Chapter 13
Callie
This isn’t over?
Before I can ask Lochlan what he means, he jumps back into the SUV and drives away. I didn’t get his number and I didn’t give him mine. That sounds about as over as you can get.
Heart heavy, I wave goodbye to the tinted windows and make my way up the front stairs of the physics building. As an afterthought, I walk by my professor’s office hoping his door is open. Because of the snow, maybe his regular appointment was a no-show and I can move mine up by a few weeks.
I tap on the wood frame and his brown eyes lift. He’s dressed in jeans and a sweater, probably because classes were cancelled.
“Come in, Calliope. I’m glad you stopped by. Sit down please.” At the absence of his pleasant demeanor, I start to worry. When his lips purse, I know I’m screwed.
Professor Subramanyam hands me the thumb drive where I stored my thesis. “I have to say, I am truly disappointed. I marked up the first half, then gave up.”
Stunned, I gasp. “C-can we review the places where you think I need to improve?”
“No. I’m sorry. There isn’t anywhere near enough time. That’s why I assigned you a mentor, Mr. Chase. Has he seen this?”
I nod.
“Unfortunate. I will speak with him, as well. I think you may have bitten off more than you can chew.” He leans back in his chair, mouth grim, and I’ve never felt more a failure.
“Thank you,” I mutter numbly.
There has to be some kind of mistake. Staring down at the snow dripping from my boots, I walk out of his office trying to recall the hints Gerard has been dropping about my math. In a way, I guess he did try to warn me.
Dazed, I wander to the student center, order a coffee, and gape at the thumb drive. I should insert it into my computer. However, once I do, this failure will become real and I can’t face that yet. All my dreams of independence will be dashed. I’m never going to get out from under my mother’s iron thumb.
Fuck. Other than relationships, I’ve never failed at anything and honestly don’t know how to deal. Zombie-like, I sip my coffee until it’s gone, then tear the Styrofoam cup into pieces, playing with the piles of tiny white balls.
When my phone alarm beeps, I’m shocked how much time has passed. I’ve been sitting here for almost two hours. Shit. I can’t possibly handle lunch with Yuri but it would be rude to back out minutes before we’re to meet.
My fine upbringing wins out over depression.
Mother would be so proud.
My foot’s asleep so gingerly, I jump up and down on it as I call an Uber. All set and paid for, I head back to the street, wrapped in a thick layer of foggy depression.
After pulling my pink hat over my ears, I wrap my scarf around twice. With only my eyes showing, I wave down the Jeep matching the description on the app. Later, inside the restaurant, I’m a bit out of breath as Yuri stands and helps me out of my coat.
When I unwrap myself, he asks, “Is everything all right?”
I shake my head no and squeeze my eyes tight. “I’m sorry. I should go.”
He takes my hand, dark eyes full of concern. “Sit. Please tell me. Perhaps I can help.”
“I don’t think anyone can.” I turn politely and blow my nose.
Intelligent Mongolian eyes penetrate the shell I’ve carefully crafted. Perhaps, if last night never happened, I might be interested in pursuing a lover. For now, I need a strong ally, a stranger with kind eyes who won’t judge me for my failure.
After I settle with a glass of wine, he nods encouragingly. “Tell me, myshka what is bothering you?”
I take a deep breath. “As you know, I’ve been researching EMF. I need people to know, even in small doses, it can cause cancer.”
I shudder at how my small sample of mice died for my noble cause. “Several cities, Atlanta and Columbus already have this technology in use for crowd control. God forbid they use it.”
Yuri pats my hand. “Your research is a good thing, so why the tears?”
