This time, instead of looking away, she winked. Actually winked.
And I had to grip the edge of my desk to steady myself.
What was she doing to me?
“The question,” Dr. Jacques said, “is whether we have the courage to examine these hidden aspects of ourselves.”
Hidden aspects, like the part of me that had felt more alive in that club with her than I ever had at home. The part that didn’t feel relieved when my mother’s call ruined everything.
I thought about everything I’d been taught growing up. About what was proper, what was expected, what my future should look like. Marriage, children. A quiet, respectable life that made my parents proud.
But none of those thoughts made me feel the way I’d felt when Marley had almost kissed me. None of them made my heart race or my skin tingle or made me feel like I was about to discover something wonderful and scary about myself.
Maybe, I thought hesitantly, maybe there are things about me I don’t understand yet.
And maybe that’s okay.
Curious.
The word rang in my head again.
Maybe she was right. Maybe instead of being afraid of these new feelings, I could try to understand them. Maybe I could be brave enough to explore whatever this was between us, even if I didn’t have words for it yet.
I could feel Marley’s presence like warmth at my back, and for the first time since Saturday night, I allowed myself to wonder:
What would have happened if my mother hadn’t called?
What would it have felt like to kiss her?
The thought sent a shiver through me that had nothing to do with the cold.
And why, I wondered, my heart beating faster, do I want to find out so badly?
“That will be all for today, class. Have a lovely day,” Dr. Jacques said, jolting me out of wherever I’d kept my head.
The hall started emptying, people moving around and chatting as I packed up my things. I literally had nothing much to do today; we only had one class on Mondays anyway.
I packed my things, still lost in thought.
“Hey.”
I caught her scent before she even uttered that word. I turned my head and saw her settling into the seat beside me, the one that had been vacated moments before.
“Well, good afternoon, Marley,” I said automatically.
She laughed softly. “Have I ever told you that you’re so formal?” Amusement dancing in her eyes.
“It’s muscle memory,” I said. “Back home, you’re formal with everyone. Elders, teachers, strangers… even friends sometimes.”
“In Germany, we’re the opposite,” she said. “We are very direct, less ceremony.” She said with a grin, then tilted her head. “Though I kind of love the way you say, ‘good afternoon.’ It feels like you’re addressing me as royalty.”
I laughed before I could stop myself. “And there’s something relaxing about how you just say exactly what you’re thinking.”
“Cultural differences,” she grinned, then leaned back, studying me. “Speaking of which, what are your grand plans for the rest of this lovely Monday?”
“Nothing too exciting,” I admitted. “Just heading back to my dorm to sleep a bit, then brainstorm the remaining interview questions for our project.”
Her face lit up.
