Chapter Seventeen

Hannah

“Your roommate is really dating Sean Jackson?” Dad asks yet again. It’s the beginning of winter break. Dad has come to pick me up. Jasmine and Sean left five minutes ago to drive back to Akron, but Dad is still starstruck.

“Yep, since the tenth grade.”

“I just wasn’t expecting to meet a top NFL prospect in my daughter’s dorm room.”

“Trust me, when he’s with Jasmine, he’s just Sean from Akron. I think that’s what he likes about her.”

“She seems nice.”

“She is. We’re good friends.” I’m going to miss Jasmine over break. And Ben. God, I don’t know how I’ll manage to go three weeks, even though he’s promised to drive to Cleveland at least once to visit. It’s not fair. We just got together at the end of Thanksgiving break, three short weeks ago, but we’ve barely seen each other. He’s been buried in the Christmas rush at work and two massive papers due for his classes. I’ve been studying non-stop for finals, trying to salvage my grades. So far, we’ve had all of one date, a lot of texts, a few quick cups of coffee between classes, and two make out sessions in the stacks at the library. I think I saw more of him when we were just friends.

And now I’m leaving for break while he stays in Arlington to work. I can’t believe it, but I really, really don’t want to leave.

Of course, that’s not only about Ben. I’m terrified to go home.

Finals are over. My chem final went better than I expected, and there’s a tiny chance I passed the class. Not that it matters. I’ll be out of the Honors Program, and sooner or later, I’ll need to stop hiding behind my lies. I’m going to have to tell Dad, and imagining it makes me nauseous. But the hardest thing to tell him will be this: I don’t care about the Honors Program anymore.

I’m still toeing the line of expectations and reality. I signed up for half of the recommended chemistry curriculum next semester, the ones I could take even if I get booted from the Honors Program. But on a whim, I added Intro to American Lit and Contemporary Social Justice just because the descriptions in the catalogue sounded amazing. And last week I signed up to volunteer with the Arlington World Outreach Club because some guy handed me a flyer on campus and I got sucked in by the work they do for overseas aid organizations. This is probably not how I should be spending my free time when I’m failing my major.

I don’t know what I’m doing anymore. My academic career is a mess, and I’m watching it roll toward the cliff without lifting a finger to stop it. I’m dancing around all these random classes that shouldn’t even be on my radar. I’m ignoring the thing I’m supposed to be passionate about because all I really want to do is read.

Telling my dad would be so much easier if I was just shifting focus to another field in science. If I decided I wanted to go to medical school, or work as an immunologist at the CDC. Announcing that my major is going to be “undeclared” feels selfish and like a waste of all my potential.

But I can’t stay on the path I started down when I came to Arlington— It feels wrong. I just don’t know how to find my way to what feels right.

After securing my dirty laundry basket to the top of my rolling suitcase, Dad looks up and flashes me a warm smile. “Well, your first semester at college is successfully in the bag. Ready to indulge in some holiday merry-making?”

I suppress a grimace. When I turn up with a D in Honors Chem, he won’t think this semester was so successful. “Sure,” I say, with a brightness I don’t feel.

He smiles again, this time soft and wistful. “I’m so proud of you, kiddo. Your mom would be, too.”

Oh, Jesus, if we don’t leave right now, I’m going to start crying. “Thanks, Dad. But we’d better hit the road or else traffic will be a nightmare.”

If he notices my red, glassy eyes or the strain in my voice, he never says so.