“Fine,” she said as if settling an internal debate. “Bring her along, too. You can introduce me as yourneighbour,and the three of us will play nicely together. How does that sound?”
Awful. It sounded awful.I winced.
“I’m really sorry, but there’s this rally. Mei wanted togo, so I said I’d go with her. It’s a demonstration of solidarity with the Chinese students in Tiananmen Square?—”
“Why do you care about the students in China?” Francesca shrugged.
“It’s about democracy and freedom of speech. You should care too.”
“Forget it, then.” She sat up, swung her legs around and left me alone with my thoughts, which quickly spiralled into regrets. Before long, the low bass of her music rumbled through the wall.
Francesca had never suggested an outing with just the two of us before. She was making an effort, and I’d brushed it aside.I’m such an idiot!Her dark mood would have set in like a storm, which I knew from experience was best to let rage and blow over.
I knockedon her door first thing the next morning. No answer came, so I tried the handle.Locked.
“Shit!”
Crouching down, I tore a sheet of paper from my pad and scribbled a quick note. It was too late to change plans with Mei, so I suggested Francesca meet me at the union after the rally.
I signed it with a kiss and stuffed it under her door.
Only a handful of the professor’s words filtered through my thoughts as I tried and failed to focus.
“Reduced prefrontal cortex activity…”Francesca’s eyes, as dark as a lake.
“A highly active amygdala…”The way her rage bubbled up and over.
“Increased levels of cortisol… butterflies… racing heart rate…”I’m in love with her.
Of course, I’m in love with her.
The epiphany had me scooping up my books and skipping down the stairs of the lecture theatre.
“Sorry, so sorry,” I said to the turned heads of my classmates.
“Is there somewhere more important you need to be, Miss Truscote?” The lecturer’s pale face was pinched with derision.
“Sorry, I just need to…”Find Francesca. I need to apologise for not putting her first.I dashed out and down the hallway, to where, I wasn’t sure.
To Jeremy’s. Yes, he might know where to find her.
Somewhere between cortisol and cortex, a frantic determination took root. I had to tell her. She needed to know. And it was time Jeremy knew what was going on too — what he’d been foolishly getting in the way of.
I love her. I want to be with her, properly. And I think she wants that too.
With my head down, I sped across campus towards Jeremy’s halls, charging through the icy rain that dotted my glasses. The biting cold stung my face and whipped strands of hair from my ponytail.
“Jeremy!” I shouted before I’d even reached the landing.
“Jeremy, have you seen Francesca?” I yelled to a row of closed doors. Even to my ears, my voice soundedoverwrought. But this was important, no time for breath or composure. This couldn’t wait. I needed to make a frizzy-haired declaration to the girl I loved.
Besides, love isn’t perfectly groomed; love isn’t pretending you’re something you’re not.
A door creaked open and Jeremy’s head popped out, his ruddy cheeks even more flushed than usual. “Trusty? What are you doing here?”
I bounded towards him, but he retreated, pushing the door to and peering through the gap, but by then I’d already glimpsed his bare torso and tousled hair. A musky odour escaped his room as I drew closer.
“Oh!” I whispered, a smile cracking across my face. “You’ve got someone in there, haven’t you?”
