A gentle smile builds on his features. “I don’t think that about everyone.”
“No?”
He shakes his head, smiling down at his hands like he knows something that she doesn’t.
“No, Jahlani,” he says in a low voice. “I’m pretty sure I only think about you.”
Her breath hitches when his words catch up to her. Her skin flushes as they maintain simmering eye contact. Her stomach flutters and she becomes hyperaware of her braids against her neck, her knee bouncing, his arms in his shirt, the part in his lips, his fingers tugging at his earlobe, the tick of the clock?—
Clearing her throat, she breaks the connection first, gesturing to her laptop screen. Grabbing the tie on her wrist, she wraps her braids up before shrugging her cardigan from her arms. His eyes latch onto the movement, and goosebumps arise over her skin. She decides she’s better with it on, and her gaze trails to the closed door. Standing, she takes a wide step around him to pull it completely open, cursing under her breath as she does.
“Let’s start,” she says, but her voice comes out shaky. High-pitched. As she walks back to the desk, she reaches for her water, turning away to finish the bottle. From her peripheral vision, she sees him adjust in his chair, dragging the laptop back to his lap.
“Why did you open the door?” he asks, tapping on his keyboard. Wiping a hand against the corners of her mouth, she settles back into the chair.
“Just a little warm in here,” she says, avoiding his gaze. “Move your chair back. We’ve wasted enough time.”
For the rest of the session, he doesn’t steer the conversation away from the lecture, and she can’t stop the wave of disappointment that consumes her when it’s over.
CHAPTER 12
BITTER AND TWISTED
JAHLANI
The Graduate Affairs Event for Data Science and Statistics is a large gathering for statisticians, computer scientists, data scientists, and anyone else interested in learning more about current research in the field. It also helps undergraduate students learn more about graduate school admission requirements and potential career opportunities.
In other words, it’s one giant white, cisgender, male nerd fest.
Jahlani had come to terms with the fact that no matter where she went, there was a high probability that she would always be one of the few Black women in the horde.
The hulking downside to her industry is the constant requirement of having to prove that she deserves to be there as much as the next person.
That no, she isn’t in the wrong class, and yes, she knows the difference between Binomial distribution and Poisson distribution. Yes, she graduated from her university summa cum laude with a faultless grade point average, but it was something she hadn’t yet learned how to wear as a badge of honor.
The watchful gazes and upturned noses never quite screamed ‘We’re happy to have you here.’ She attended several of them inNew York during undergrad, and eventually learned what type of people to avoid to survive the night.
Jahlani brings a glass of water to her lips. So far, only ten students have shown up. Checking the time on her watch, she sees that the event ends soon.
I’ll be there. At the event.
She cranes her neck around the room, looking for a familiar pair of forest green eyes and chestnut hair, but when she comes up short, she’s suddenly reminded of when her parents had promised to show up for a presentation in high school. It was her senior research project about the impact of stress on high-achieving students. She spent the whole year on the paper, practicing her speech in front of the mirror, with Imani, with her teacher.
Of course, neither of them showed.
And of course, they both had a shitty excuse.
She knows that Roman isn’t her parents, and truthfully, he doesn’t owe her anything. Given his track record for class, his words held no comforting syllable. The probability of him making an appearance was low to begin with. People don’t just change overnight, and certainly not for some random person. Certainly not for her.
Even so, the bitterness that clouds her mind is hard to stop. It was the conviction in his voice that made her believe him. And his eyes.
And that’s the problem.
The memory of them continues to afflict her thoughts for the rest of the evening. Even as she indulges in petty conversation. Even as she treks to the bus stop. Even as she unzips her dress and washes the makeup from her skin. Even as the silken comforter rests against her cheek. Even as she drifts off into a soundless sleep, the shine—their depth—still haunt her.
The weekend passes by in a blur. And Jahlani is sure that she’s over it. Over Roman not showing up.
She has a hundred other things weighing on her mind, so there’s no reason for her to be checking the class roster to see if he’s still active, and there’sdefinitelyno reason for the relief that washes over her when she sees that he is. And there is absolutely no reason for her chest to hammer as she watches the clock for their meeting to start during office hours on Tuesday.
