My stomach rolls, and this time it’s not from alcohol. “I think I made a mistake.”
“Oh, you definitely made a mistake.” Reid chuckles. “The question is, what are you going to do about it?”
“I have no idea.” But I’d better figure it out quick because there are only two weeks left in the semester.
52
QUINN
It’sFriday morning and I’m curled up in a booth at Daily Grind, cramming for finals and trying not to think of Cooper, which is easier said than done since Wildcat football is all anyone on campus wants to talk about.
Case in point, the guys at the next table are discussing the best way to score tickets for the upcoming bowl game.
I put on my headphones, blocking out their annoying chatter, and return my attention to the study guide before me. I don’t have time to sit around obsessing over football. And I definitely don’t have time to feel sorry for myself or wonder what Cooper’s doing and if he’s dating anyone new.
Riiight.
Okay, fine. Yes, I’ve obsessed. But only between classes. And at night. So, basically only when I’m awake and not studying.
Whatever. At least I’ve steered clear of Greek Row. Not that it’s been a challenge. I’m hardly in the mood to drink and party, especially with exams starting on Monday.
I’ve got a Calculus final that, judging by my current performance on this study guide, is going to kick my ass, and Call-Me-David is supposed to post the grades for our final papers today, which has me refreshing my email every five minutes.
It’s a step up from constantly checking my phone, hoping there’ll be a text or call from Cooper. I spent all day Sunday hoping he’d come to his senses and ask to meet up.
Spoiler alert: he did not come to his senses and ask to meet up.
So, yeah. My new post-Cooper plan is to keep my head down, get through finals, and go home for the holidays to lick my wounds in private while eatingallthe frosted sugar cookies.
Maybe by the time spring semester starts in January, I’ll be able to handle the prospect of facing him. Of seeing him on campus and watching him hook up at parties.
Doubtful.
They say you never forget your first love, but even if it’s not true, Cooper will always hold a special place in my heart. Not only because he was my first, but because he was the first person to believe in me and to encourage me to follow my dreams, no matter the odds.
My phone buzzes on the table and I snatch it up, more than ready to take a break from the study guide from hell. I open my email to find a canned message from Call-Me-David. Grades have been posted for the Creative Non-Fiction term papers.
I log into my student account, mentally cursing the slow Wi-Fi as the page loads.
When the grading matrix finally pops up, I scroll straight to the bottom.
A+.
Holy crap. I got an A+. From Call-Me-David.
There’s a note in the comments section and I zoom in to read it.
Excellent work, Ms. Mowery. This was one of the best papers I’ve read all semester. It really highlights your tremendous growth as a writer.
Pride washes over me and I tap my feet on the floor, biting back a squeal. I did it. I actually freaking did it.
“This calls for a celebration.” Preferably one of the carb variety.
Before I can get up, my phone vibrates again. It’s a message from Priya.
Priya: How’d you do?
Me: A+. I think maybe I had too much coffee and I’m hallucinating. You?
