The words surface in front of my eyes one by one; we’re delighted to inform you of and extend acceptance …
I jump back from my desk as if I might be burnt. Like my laptop is a hot stovetop, I’m scared of testing to see if it’s still hot. Then I’m sprinting for my door, because there is only one person I want to share this feeling with.
“I have news!” I skip into my boyfriend’s room, where he’s seated at his desk, engulfed in something.
“That’s great, babe.” He doesn’t even look up from his computer.
Another minute passes, and I’m standing here teeming with excitement that I only want to share with him. Meanwhile, he’s ignoring me. My issues of abandonment begin to bubble to the surface. My insecurities, the ones that tell me I’m not good enough, haunt my thoughts like cobwebs, unable to be cleaned away.
“Um, hello?” My inner bitch rises quickly to the surface, even as I’m shoving away the negative chatter in my mind that’s telling me he doesn’t care.
Callum is still typing away, and after a beat, he actually makes eye contact. “Sorry, what did you say?”
“I came in here to tell you news of mine, and you’re completely ignoring me.” My voice is pain and anger.
It’s irrational, I know it, but this is the biggest news I’ve gotten to date. It’s also part of my healing process; by accomplishing this on my own, without help from either of my parents, I’m one step closer to proving to myself that I’m not a product of their affair. I’m my own person, able to stand on my own two feet.
“I’m sorry, babe. I’m really sorry, shit. I’ve been mired down in school shit for the last hour and it took me a minute to come out of my studying coma. Tell me, come here. I want to hear it.”
My lip is still pushed out in a pout as I enter reluctantly, wanting more groveling. “It’s whatever, I don’t need to tell you.”
Callum pulls me into his lap. “Hey, don’t be like that. I’m sorry. I want to hear it, I want to be the first person you tell. I love you.”
I take a steadying breath and then relent. “I love you, too. I got into Georgetown Law.”
It’s not even a millisecond before we’re out of the chair, I’m in midair, and Callum is swinging me around.
“Let’s fucking goooo, baby! You did it! Fuck yeah! I’m so proud of you!” He is yelling so loud, the whole house probably hears him, but I don’t care a bit.
We twirl around, and when he finally sets me down, Callum and I jump up and down. It’s true that we’re not only in love, but he is my best friend. He is the one who I turn to when I want to celebrate moments in my life. Twin flames, baby.
“Oh my God, Georgetown. You did it, baby. Holy crap.” He runs a hand through his hair and then lunges forward to kiss me.
Callum’s skilled tongue slides into my mouth and I greet it warmly, a welcome surprise as we embrace. Of course, I can’t help but wonder if he’ll want to come with me to DC.
As I rest my head on his chest, I daydream about exploring a new city together.
“Now, what can I help you with?” I rub his shoulder where my arms are wrapped around the back of his neck.
The high from my acceptance letter is buzzing around me like an electric shock, but I can tell Callum is more than stressed.
“No, we should go celebrate. Let’s go to dinner.” He starts to move, but I pin him in place, if that’s even possible considering my serious disadvantage compared to him.
“I’m so excited about law school. I am. But you seem super stressed, so let me help. Then, when we figure it out, we’ll go celebrate for both of us.”
My boyfriend sighs and I see the exhaustion lines on his face. “It’s my course load … it may be too much. I’m scared I have no time as it is, and student teaching is taking over everything. I don’t know if I’ll graduate on time.”
Now I see it, the piles of paper and books spread over his desk. He never did know how to organize, and it’s a good thing he has the most anal girlfriend on the whole planet.
“Stop, slow down. You’re going to graduate, because you found something you actually want to do and that’ll propel you to the finish line. And if not, I’ll drag you across it, so …” I grin haughtily.
“You’re exactly the kick in the ass I need.” Callum motions to his desk. “I never thought having a passion would be so fucking messy.”
If he only knew …
“I’m proud of you, for what it’s worth,” I tell him, because I am.
“You’ve been waiting years for me to be something.” He laughs at himself.
I shake my head. “No. I always knew you could be great. I just didn’t want to push you.”
“You always had way too much going on to pay any mind to my laziness.”
“Actually, the reason I worked so hard is because I envied you. This thing with my father, thinking that if I could just be better and do better to impress him and my mom … I wished so much that I could slack off a little. That I could go to the pool when it was open in the summer and skip class. That I could have a few too many beers and sleep in rather than waking up with the sun. That I could rely on the love of my family to let me be young for just a little while longer. Half the time I was mad at you, it was me projecting because I couldn’t hang out with you the way I wanted to.”
“Jeez, I’m sorry, baby.” He kisses me again, though I’m not mad at all.
“Lucky for us, we are two sides of the same coin, and working together benefits us both. I can organize you, and you make me slow down, relax.”
“Twin flames, baby.” He winks, because he keeps saying it jokingly even though we both silently acknowledge it’s very real.
For the next hour, we buckle down and create a plan and schedule for Callum. I get his whole life in line, so much so that by the end of the sixty minutes, he is way less stressed about being able to graduate on time.
Then he takes me out for a three-scoop ice cream Sunday, which then leads to sex in my bed. All in all, the exact way I would want to celebrate getting into law school.
32
BEVAN
My ears ring with the dull roar of music that’s been pounding into them for the last two hours.
Quickly, but what feels like forever, I’m walking toward our front porch, my limbs sweaty and exhausted. Tonight was one for the books, the perfect night out at the college bars that didn’t end in tears or everyone abandoning each other. Our unit of roommates was intact this weekend, with Austin and Gannon both in town for my girls. Callum and I spent half the night humping each other on the dance floor, and Scott is even bringing someone home.
“Who has keys out?” Scott shouts from just up ahead, where his date is latched to his neck as they walk.
“I’ve got them.” Callum raises a hand, the one that isn’t draped around my shoulders, and fumbles in his pocket.
To me, he quietly whispers, “This will get us in first, so we can avoid all the small talk.”
I grin against his chest, burying my face there, because I know what he means. Once we get in the house, everyone always congregates in the living room. There will be a debate about what food to order, what will get put on the TV, if we’re doing more shots.