Spare Me the Details

Holden

Thursday was a disaster. I thought the moment was right. I thought she was feeling the same intense vibe as I was. But she shot me down before I could make a move it appears we both would have regretted.

Instead of coming home, I stopped by Sam and Phil’s place to beg for some advice. Neither of them had any answers or easy solutions, but it was nice to talk things out a bit. I’m grateful they were willing to listen.

So I’ve spent all day trying to buckle down and get through some of the journals Dina helped me find. Her insight into my area of study is remarkable. She’s got this knack for zeroing in on specific details in a search and coming up with materials that I otherwise wouldn’t have found. Because of her, my confidence for these exams has increased exponentially.

Too bad my confidence in where I stand with Dina has decreased by the same margin.

Around 8pm, my phone chirps, but I ignore it, assuming it’s either my friends or Phoebe. Aaron has been working nights, and she doesn’t like being alone, so she keeps texting me to come over. I love my sister, but… actually, there is no but. If she needs me, I’ll be there.

I pick up the phone to reply, only to be taken aback by the sender.

Minnie: Hi.

She’s succinct; I’ll give her that.

Holden: Hey.

There’s so much more I want to say, like “I’m so happy to hear from you,” or “I’m sorry,” but I decide to let her lead.

Minnie: About the other day…

I’m sorry.

Sorry? What is she sorry for? I don’t know what to say. You’re forgiven? Should I consult Phoebe? I’m sure her billionaire boss romantic leads always say the right thing.

I’m not asking Sam or Phil again. Boyd would probably laugh. My dad would ask my mum, and that can’t happen.

Guess I’m on my own here. I shake out my shoulders to pump myself up, then focus on my phone.

Holden: You have nothing to be sorry for.

This feels like the moment you turn in a huge exam and have to wait for the results. You know you’ve done your best, but without the validation of a percentage, you have no clue if that’s good enough.

Minnie: I do. Maybe you’ll let me explain one day.

I want to tell her she can explain now. That I’m not busy, so I’ll come over and we can talk about whatever she thinks she’s done wrong. But for once, when it comes to Dina, logic prevails. I just hope she understands where my priorities need to be.

My reply, no matter how I word it, sounds dismissive or short. So I opt to call.

“Hello.” Her answer is tentative and lacking any enthusiasm. It’s so anti-Dina, I check to make sure I dialled the right number.

“Hey. I thought it would be easier to call.”

“Yeah, sure. Of course. Texting is my default choice, but it does lack context sometimes.”

“That’s… uh… I guess that’s what I was worried about. Listen…”

She breathes a sigh into the phone. “It’s fine, Holden. You could have just texted me. We don’t need to make this a whole production.”

Something about her not calling me Dickens stings. It may be because she says my name like it’s a curse word. Or maybe it’s the implication of what she’s saying. Time for an instant redirect from my initial plan.

“No, I was just going to say, if you have any free time, I could really use a study accountability partner. Someone to grill me on critical information until I know it upside-down and backwards.”

She doesn’t reply for a few seconds as Nacho squeaks his toy near the phone. “You have no idea what you’ve done to me.”

An unexpected reply.

“You’ve had the same—”

“He squeaks this thing constantly, and I blame you for it. If I’m not paying attention, he climbs up on my lap to squeak it in my face. All. Day. Long.”

Boy, am I glad she interrupted me or that would have gotten awkward.

“Sorry. Bribery was my only option to get on his good side. I’m not sure it’s worth it if I end up on your bad side, though.”

She chuckles as the squeaking sound fades into the background. “You’re not on my bad side. Most of the time, it makes me laugh. Hold on while I go in my room.” There is some shuffling before she continues. “Back to your question. What kind of grilling are you looking for?”

If I were less of a gentleman, I’d take creative liberty with that question. “Throw your best methods at me. What are you? The colour-coded flash card type? SQ3R? Making fun dance videos to illustrate a point?”

“I would dive headfirst into a tank full of ravenous sharks with a thousand oozing papercuts before you’d ever find me dancing on video. And it depends on your learning style. I prefer the PQ4R method.”

“P? Four Rs? Teach me your ways, Dina Blake.”

It sounds like she flops on her bed, then starts reciting her study wisdom. “With PQ4R, you preview, then you question.”

“Mm-hmm. You’re speaking my nerdy language. Continue.”

Her giggle is the kind of sound that can roll the tension right off my shoulders.

“Then you read, recite, reflect, and review. Obvious addition being reflection. I don’t know if it will be helpful for your material, but I always find that extra step of re-writing what I studied in my own words helps me retain the information better.”

“Yes, this is brilliant. I propose a new, improved, 5-R system.” I’m smiling wide; partly because I love nerd-speak, but mostly because I’m talking to her.

“What’s the extra R?”

“Just like you said. Read, recite, reflect, review, and retain. That’s the important part, isn’t it?”

She doesn’t reply for a second, but when she does, the joy in her voice is obvious. “We’d need a new title for this method. How ’bout AQ5R?”

I don’t know what it says about me that I’m so enthralled and excited that we’re having this conversation right now. “What does A stand for?”

“Analyze, question, read, recite, reflect, review, and retain. Sounds like a flawless method to me.”

“You are one of a kind, Minnie. So what do you say? Will you grill me with the new, improved AQ5R method and help me rock these exams?”

“We’re not adding rock as a 6th R. I’m drawing the line.” She laughs again and I can’t help but feel like she gets me on another level. Like no one else, not even my best friends or my family ever have.

Suddenly, a more interesting question dawns on me. “Do you have a middle name?”

The line goes silent again, but this time I know it’s not because of spotty reception.

“That’s a sharp turn in the conversation. I do, but I’m not telling you.”

“Oh, now come on. It can’t be that bad.” I run through so many options in my mind, but none of them feel distinctly Dina.

“It’s not that it’s bad. A girl just has to maintain some mystery. I’ll tell you what. If you rock these exams, I’ll tell you my middle name. But you have to tell me yours, too.”

“Fine. More motivation, I guess. Though I promise nothing can be worse than mine.”

“Is it Morrisey?” There’s a note of excitement in her voice as she rambles on that’s different from her study method excitement. “You know? From the Catcher in the Rye? Holden Morrisey Caulfield. I figured since your sister was Phoebe, your parents were fans of the book.” She chuckles into the phone as I lean back in my chair, absorbing her book nerdiness.

“They insist our names were a coincidence. Neither of them had read the book before. But I guess you’ll have to help me rock these exams so you can find out what it really is.”

“I said no, Dickens!”

My stomach sinks at her adamant refusal. How did I misunderstand this entire…

“I mean, no to rock being part of our new method. Yes, to the grilling… er, studying. I’ll help you study.”

Phewf. I was really confused for a second. “You’re too good to me, Dina Something Blake. I promise I’ll return the favour.”

“You don’t owe me anything. That’s not why I agreed.” I hear her tussle with Nacho for a minute, trying to take away his squeaking squirrel. “Just… drop it. Ugh.” She laughs with a triumphant “Ha!” that I can only interpret as victory. Obviously, she returned to where he was or he made his way into her room. “When and where should we meet? Library? Your place?” She makes a hmm sound, then adds, “My place?”

For several weeks, since I first met Dina, I’ve been chiding myself for not maintaining my focus. For allowing myself to be distracted. But when the offer comes up, only one choice stands out as both the best and worst possible options.

“Your place would be perfect.”