to alleviate one of the world's most pressing issues," Jamie droned, his eyes glued to the cue cards in his hand. "Entern is the combination of virtual reality, internet networks, medical institutions and developing communities that addresses systemic inequalities in healthcare—"

"Remember eye contact," I interrupted smoothly. The common room was deserted, save for the two of us.

Since spring break till the end of April, it had been full steam ahead. Krista—as predicted—had gone into a study cave in order to tackle the Calculus course that threatened to ruin her GPA, and Riley had been using every available office hour in order to perfect her final thesis.

I was in the same boat. While I hadn't heard back from Columbia University, I still had earned places in three other med programmes—Boston University, Langone and Tufts. My future was secured, regardless of the location.

Some might have used this milestone as an opportunity to decompress and take it easy towards graduation, but not me. If I wanted to graduate magna cum laude in May, I only had room for one B in my course load. Everything else needed to be A or above.

Yes, I had a lot to do, but I always had time for Jamie. Especially when he needed my help.

Jamie had taken what expertise I could offer about medicine and prototyped a back-end iteration of Entern, not publicly available. The software was enough to model how virtual reality systems connect with established medical databases. Trouble-shooting had consumed most of his time since spring break.

His proactivity about the Innovating Philanthropy project the entire semester had paid off. Now, we only had to refine his presentation in anticipation of the presentation night next week.

And his public speaking needed refinement.

"Each sentence, pick a person and look at them," I advised.

Jamie glanced at his cue cards and swore. "I can't. I just feel like I'm going to stumble over my words if I'm not reading them directly off the page."

"Then you stumble. Just pause and start again," I said. "You know the presentation content like the back of your hand. But the audience isn't there for the PowerPoint. They're there for you."

His eyes swam with nervousness. "How are you so confident when you do public speaking?"

I chewed on my cheek, recalling all the speeches I'd given or events I'd hosted as the WISA treasurer. The science fair projects that I'd presented in high school. The speech competition that I'd entered at twelve years old. Perhaps the latter I had harboured anxiety towards.

But in more recent years I couldn't remember feeling a lick of dread. Not enough to throw my game, anyway.

"I don't know," I admitted sheepishly. "I've just never been anxious about audiences. I don't believe that anyone in the room is critical or wants to judge me or see me fail. I just tell myself that they're peers. Also, fuck their opinions."

"Oh, my God."

"What?"

"I can't think like you can." Jamie said miserably, "Here I was hoping you'd tell me to picture the audience in their underwear."

Thinking back to the WISA funding presentation, and the lethargic old men in the room, I shuddered. "That's nasty."

Imagine them in their underwear. What idiocy. Had that trick ever worked in anyone's life?

"I can't do it. I've done group projects before and it was terrifying enough," Jamie complained. "I just see people looking bored or like they're laughing at me and I lose faith in myself."

"I know. Solo is hard. But Farrah will be there, yeah?"

Jamie paused and nodded. "Yeah."

The Innovating Philanthropy presentation night would not be just a series of sleep-deprived seniors giving speeches in a lecture hall. The Science Faculty had booked Halston University's new conference centre and slapped a dress code on the event.

I would have been there myself, cheering Jamie on, if the WISA Intersectionality in Science panel didn't fall on the same evening. WISA had been planning the event for too long. I had too large a responsibility to not attend it.

But Farrah would be at the Innovating Philanthropy conference, and she would naturally look after Jamie.

"So there's immediately one person who is rooting for you," I told him. "Everyone is irrelevant."

"Except they're not. There are recruiters and my professor and people to network with. They're very relevant to any internships or jobs I might get."

Oop. That was annoying.

My words of comfort would have hit harder if the final project was just another hour of mediocre PowerPoint speeches amongst classmates, but even I couldn't deny the gravity of the event. People with money, connections and power were going to attend, looking to fish the cream of the crop into their companies as interns or graduates.

Like when Jamie was still bouncing ideas about Entern, I couldn't lie about the nature of the world. There was no easy fix for nerves when his future—or a fraction of it—rode on social performance. Schmoozing and laughing. Mentioning a coffee date to touch base at the right time. Swapping business emails. It all disgusted me. Yet Jamie had to join the masquerade with his own perfect mask if he wanted a corporate job.

"I don't know what to tell you." I truly didn't. Neither of us had the answers for everything.

Jamie shook his head, sighing gratefully, "That's okay. I just needed to vent this. Look at Farrah, not my cue cards."

I smiled through the tightness in my chest. "That's the winning strategy. You'll do great. And if you don't, we'll take you to the bar after to commiserate."

"Only if the first round is on you."

"Of course, dude."

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

"I heard back from Columbia."

Sushmita set down the chair in her hands and glanced my way. "Oh, my gosh. What'd they say?"

The entire executive committee of WISA, and dozens of volunteers, occupied the third floor of Halston's Business building. The Business building was the newest Faculty building on campus, with sleek glass staircases and minimalistic flair. It was the ideal locale for mixers and functions, which is why WISA booked it for our panel on Intersectionality in Science.

"Waitlisted."

"That's good. That's fantastic," Sushmita congratulated. "Now you know all your options."

"Not really. I'm still holding out for Columbia because I've dreamed of going there for so long. I'll probably wait until the absolute last day to hear an update from them."

"And if that update never comes?"

"Langone it is."

WISA had forty-five minutes to rearrange the room, set out chairs and fix the canapé table for dainty snacking. Sushmita and I, on chair duty, each snapped open a foldable plastic chair and set them into the ruler-straight rows we'd formed.

"New York is the place to be, huh?"

"Well, some of my friends are planning to move there after graduation."

"Would Jamie happen to be one of those friends?" she asked knowingly.

"Yes, but it's not what you think. I really like the idea of being in a big city. I think I can match the energy, the pace of it."

And, perhaps, the idea of running into Jamie at a cocktail bar or a café was enticing. If he was single, years from now, and life somehow brought us together...

Krista, Quentin and I were planning to find an apartment, but I had no idea what Jamie wanted these days. The first and last time we'd spoken about this was five months ago, on the curb outside Topaz, before I promptly threw up.

Not the most productive conversation.

Having emptied the trolley of chairs into neat rows, Sushmita and I left the function room. We passed two of our WISA friends, tasked with checking the microphone system, as we headed for the open storage cupboard down the corridor to get more chairs.

The rooms of the Business building wound around the inside of its walls, leaving a cavity from its highest floor all the way to the ground. I threw a cursory glance over the third-floor balcony and saw a familiar silhouette, tall frame and black hair.

I nudged Sushmita. "Hey, Ravi's here."

Sushmita released the trolley in her hands to lean over and peruse the ground floor. Her eyes lit up when she spotted her boyfriend. A group of about fifteen people surrounded Ravi, mostly burly athletes but some unfamiliar women. Even Jake was here—

"Wait." I paused, watching as the football players lined up and scanned their tickets for the event. "What's Jake doing here?"

"What do you mean? Jake's come to WISA events before. They all have."

"Yeah, but his twin brother, his own flesh and blood, has the presentation of a lifetime tonight. He should be at the conference centre."

I was baffled that Jake of all people, kind and considerate, wouldn't have gone to support Jamie tonight. Believe me, I was grateful he came—but even I was itching to see Jamie's presentation, and I was running the damn panel.

"Maybe Jamie gets nervous presenting to people he knows," Sushmita reasoned. "Or maybe he'd rather Jake attend this event—like, on behalf of him. He was promoting it pretty hard."

I blinked. "What?"

"What?"

"What?" I asked, thoroughly confused by Sushmita's blank stare.

She said self-explanatorily, "Just that Jamie's been promoting the WISA events to help boost our attendance. I think he's gotten some of the football boys to do the same because they have such large social media followings. Don't you watch his Instagram stories or anything?"

It didn't sound like a farfetched thing for Jamie to do. Krista boosted WISA events all the time to her one million followers, and though I was touched he cared enough to promote our content, a simple fact contradicted Sushmita. I'd never seen Jamie post anything about WISA on his story.

"Of course I do." I slipped out my phone and quickly brought up Jamie's profile. "But there's nothing here."

Sushmita leaned over my phone even as I repeatedly refreshed my screen. "Are you sure?" She pulled up her own phone. "Look, I've got it. See?"

And indeed, Jamie had several enthusiastic stories urging people to visit the Intersectionality in Science panel. Free food and drinks, free tickets for Halston students, and a good cause—all taglines he used across three stories. In comparison, the Innovating Philanthropy conference received one promotional slot.

"That's not on mine." 

The realisation hit me sharply like a rubber band. "He hides these stories from my account."

Sushmita agreed. "Seems like it. I totally thought you knew, though. Didn't you see our numbers skyrocketing since September?"

My stomach tightened as I realised that I had noticed. When I made the funding pitch presentation last semester, I had pored over the reports of event headcounts long enough to get the general trend.

WISA events had undergone a strange revitalisation disproportional to the amount of money we spend on promoting them. No-one could explain it, but then again no-one had tried. We didn't want to probe too hard into a good thing, lest it fell apart around us.

"That was Jamie? And the football team?"

"Not just the football team, though they are really trying. Krista really helps. The Halston campus life account helps, too. But it has always been a team effort," Sushmita said proudly. "Our supporters, they try to attend once in a while or spread the word, you know? Sharing event posts on their social media, telling their friends about the stuff WISA does."

I hadn't paid close enough attention to any other football player to notice their social media activity, but it was unlikely they took the effort to hide their posts. Why had Jamie hidden his? Why couldn't I know?

Sushmita took one look at the puzzled, warm, frustrated expression on my face and laughed. "Bet you don't hate football players now."

Hate them?

Oh. Damn. All my rules and my standards and my prejudices. I had been so wrong.

Several football players had proven themselves to be considerate and observant. Jamie himself was so kind and forgiving of the bullshit I put him through. And my views of intelligence had been so narrow-minded. There was more than one way to express an interest in learning. It didn't need to manifest in perfect grades and a perfect extracurricular portfolio. 

Sometimes it manifested in asking for help.

Realising how judgmental I had been toward Jamie, a wave of shame washed over me.

All this time I kept telling myself that the prospects weren't good enough, that he wasn't good enough, but I was lying. I was looking for excuses to push him away and keep him at arm's length. Because if he got close, and I fell for him, and he broke me, or I broke him...

Then I might have to accept that I wasn't good enough.

And Jamie...

He far exceeded any standards I used to adhere to.

Sometime since meeting him and now, sometime between touching his body and touching his mind, I'd come to respect his judgment, his worldview, and the way he treated people. If TV couldn't make me laugh, I bet Jamie could. If yoga didn't cheer me up, I bet he could.

He was one of a kind, like both the roaring ocean and safe harbour. Both the daunting summit and the rope keeping me safe. He was the only person who could make me smile and then sulk, make me logical and then crazy, make me overthink then forget everything else in the world but him. He could rip my heart out of my chest and I felt safe enough to let him.

All that to say, I loved Jamie too much to let him go without a fight.

"Shit," I swore, backing away from the balcony.

Sushmita cast me a curious look as we walked to the storage cupboard. "What?"

"I gotta go," I muttered, my mind whirring and calculating.

"What? Where? Why?"

"I mean, not now. I'm not going to walk out on our own event," I insisted. "But straight after this, I gotta dash. Do you think it'd be okay if I do canapé duty during the panel and swap with someone for pack up duty?"

"I think so. Ren surely wouldn't stop you," Sushmita mused, knowing how understanding the WISA President—Renata—was.

I hoped the panel finished on time. If I sprinted from the Business building to the new conference centre, I could still make Jamie's presentation. And I could catch him afterwards, and tell him everything he'd deserved to hear since he'd told me that dumb poo joke.

If there was ever a notion I could will my feelings away—just give it time and friendship and I'd somehow be ready to see him walk into another's arms—that notion promptly died. I'd never be ready for that. He was my person.

I'd gotten over a cheating bastard, my first love, a racist pig, and the one that got away. For all the ups and downs in my past, I thought love would inevitably leave me. I had been ready for it to leave me. I was ready to let my exes go. I was ready to pick myself and start again, every time.

But not this time. How did I ready myself to lose Jamie when the mere thought killed me?

I was a nervous wreck throughout the panel. Thankfully, I wasn't on emcee duty tonight. The panellists were experienced and worldly and oh-so wise, and yet I listened to them in a kind of trance.

The guilt would plague me later, but all I could think about was the optimum route I should take to get to Jamie as soon as possible. I'd probably be a sweaty mess by the time I reached the conference centre. And my outfit. Darn, it was such a bad outfit for running. Pumps, pressed trousers and a silky blouse—with my bulky handbag, too.

But it was easier to think of pathways and clothing and odour than Jamie's reaction... Even thinking of the probable rejection had my stomach clenching and roiling as if I'd downed too much tequila.

Renata okayed the swap. For the rest of the night, I pleasantly served canapés before the panel and, during it, refilled the glasses of water that sat in front of each panellist. It was a wonder no-one noticed my shaking hands—except Sushmita, of course. I knew she wanted to ask what had gotten into me, but her own WISA duties called her across the room.

When the panel ended and the attendants took to networking, I fetched my handbag and dashed out of the room.

Sushmita intercepted me briefly as I dashed for the stairwell to the ground floor. "Can you at least tell me what's got you in such a rush?"

"Birthday cake!" I threw over my shoulder, hoping she'd get the metaphor this time.

And she did.

"Oh. Oh." Then I heard her jubilant laughter echoing behind me. "About time!"

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

About time indeed!

I finally get to write the mushy part of Viv and Jamie's relationship, it's taken so long lmao. It's all smooth sailing from here. Thank you for suffering through Viv's ups and downs.

Remember to vote, comment and follow me! <3

Aimee x