Page 75 of Arctic Titans of Northwood U: Volume 1

My heart tripped and I wasn’t sure if it was the nerves over the impending test date or something else entirely.

Chapter Seven

SAWYER

To say anxiety was debilitating before my first physics test would be putting it mildly. Last night, I’d done pretty poorly in drills, but last week’s game against the Breakers had gone in our favor, so the performances evened out in Coach Murray’s eyes.

The team supported me. This morning, as I marched out of the team house, they all cheered for me. And it was a boost I hadn’t realized I needed.

The day brought warmer winds that melted the crusty snows almost into extinction. And when I realized that I could see the blue sky rather than the gray overcast clouds that had remained in place since November, I was genuinely inspired to remain on campus and on the team.

I had studied hard and I had paid my dues. I could do this goddamn test. I could do it.

Except, as I walked into the faculty building and into the mass of worried students who anticipated this same test, all my confidence faded away.

I talked to no one else and my mind started drifting away from the task at hand. I needed to think of physics and the tutor who had put so much effort into getting me ready. Or not. Why would I think of my tutor? He wasn’t supposed to be a factor in this. He was hired to do a job, right? It was the same to him either way. But, as I found a chair and unzipped my backpack to check my notes one last time before we were allowed into the lecture hall, I recognized how badly I wanted to make him proud.

But why exactly he would be proud of a near-failure like me was a mystery I didn’t want to worry about just now. Instead, I flipped through my notebook quickly and startled when a note fluttered out of it and into the floor.

I was grinning before I even picked it up. The fucker had done it again.

I read the note twice and barked out a laugh that rang against the walls of the hallway. “Fuck you,” I muttered and folded the note carefully, then tucked it into my pocket for safe keeping. I’d collected several notes from him and they were all in the same style. An uplifting little message with existential dread tacked onto it.

My heart did a little dance solo in my chest and fear returned as Professor Wallaby stormed the hallway and let us all into the lecture hall. There, we were given an open question test and ninety minutes to fill it out. So, when I was finished in fifty-five minutes, dread filled me to the brim.

These things were calculated, right? She wouldn’t have given us an hour and a half if an hour was enough.

I went through my test, twice, just to make sure. The basic theory I had answered well enough. There was one question that required solving a mathematical problem, which I had skipped entirely. But there was no way it would require anyone half an hour to solve if solving was an option.

The truth was, I didn’t know if I’d answered anything else correctly at all. Every concept Noah had tried teaching me had faded from my memory. The questions were convoluted at best and blatant traps at worst. So, I sweated and shivered and tormented my lip with all the might in my teeth until I realized I would die if I had to sit in here another minute.

I tore myself off my seat and carried the filled out paper to Wallaby’s desk like I was carrying my own execution warrant. I set it there, suffered her cold gaze of dismay, and turned away to practically run from the lecture hall.

Outside, I finally exhaled, and I took a deeper breath of air that moved the cogs in my brain. I had obviously made a horrible blunder.

I gritted my teeth and marched straight to my room, then dragged Avery to the gym. Quiet as ever, Avery simply looked at me for a moment, then nodded his full understanding. For nearly two hours, all we did was quietly work out. From the treadmill that burned my energy down, to the full body exercises, free weights, and some calisthenics that I could endure, this preoccupation with pain and exhaustion was all that kept my mind intact.

It was in the locker room, after we had showered, that Avery finally asked the question. “That bad?”

“Probably worse,” I said, my muscles searing, knees trembling.

He nodded and spared me pitiful looks. Words were unnecessary here. We knew it was only the first of many tests this semester, but it was a blow to my determination should I fail already.

And if all else failed, at least I could find some comfort in living in a simulated reality, like Noah said. Mine would be a boring gameplay, some cottagecore where I did a lot of woodworking and bird feeding, and very little ice hockey.

I dreaded meeting with Noah again. I didn’t know how to tell him that all the hours he had spent on me had been a waste.

As days passed, my temper grew more subdued. What was left in me was a sense of shame that, despite all the efforts, I had done so blatantly poor that I couldn’t even identify my own mistakes. Down the drain it all went. Feynman’s learning technique and Noah’s approving nods. So, when a week passed with no updates from Wallaby on the student portal, I decided I owed Noah at least the truth and the repayment for his efforts. We still had one test to get through. The test of his skill at the bar. And I hoped to God he would do better than I had. Otherwise, I had no reason to waste more of his time.

I visited him after Wednesday’s practice to make plans for Friday night. After knocking on his door, I waited for the soft footsteps and the turning of the doorknob. On the other side, rumpled-haired and a little flushed, Noah stood shirtless and barefoot, wearing only a pair of shorts.

“Er, do you ever wear anything when you’re alone?” I teased, my mood spiking instantly. The warmth and the appealing subdued yellow light of his room pulled at my heartstrings.

Noah was ever so slightly surprised to see me, but he stepped aside to make room for me to come inside. I hesitated, but stepped in anyway. “Heating’s been broken since this morning. I can’t breathe in here.”

As the door shut, the heat of his room dazed me. “Then open a window,” I pointed out.

“Seems wasteful.” That was his reply as he made his way to the bed and sprawled on his back.