Earnell’s face drops. He steps away from me, bursting the bubble of euphoria I’ve been living in. My defenses prepare to remount. He storms off before turning around and saying, “Anyone but you, right? Why am I never good enough?”

There is nothing that can be done in this moment. No way to rectify it. It’s the nature of relating. I stand forlornly for a few more minutes, hurting for Earnell and myself. I reach down and draw a heart in the snow with an X through it, a warning for others on the cliff of romantic uncertainty. I mill aimlessly, trying to stay out of view of Keli and Gabby, not wanting them to see my fall from grace. I walk, then sit on snow-covered stairs, before beholding the illuminated night sky. Comfort doesn’t come. The Dartmouth Aires finish their last song, “Ain’t No Sunshine,” by Bill Withers, a melancholy number about burning and loss.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

The next four weeks of the semester advance at warp speed. I feel like I traveled astrally from the Winter Carnival to midterms. When the dreaded exams finally arrive, I greet them like a houseguest I don’t like but tolerate. Oh, welcome back. So nice to see you again. Look at that, you brought a fruitcake this time. How lovely. Not. When I unwrap the other hostess gifts a week later in the form of graded exams, I’m thrilled to see that I’ve gotten three A’s, one B+, and a B-. Luke Skywalker continues to slay with her pencil lightsabers.

Now with two months left in the semester, the pressure to complete everything intensifies.

I feel like a headless chicken running madly in all directions. Before the end of the year, I will have to take final exams, write and memorize my monologue for the final theater performance, attend the end-of-year freshman retreat, and finalize my financial aid paperwork for next year. My never-ending checklist grows daily. As soon as I cross one thing off, something else gets added. It’s daunting, but I’m managing.

The people around me also worship the ritual of busyness. I haven’t seen Gabby or Keli in over a week, and Earnell is avoiding me. Whenever I see him, he turns and quickly walks the other way. He also wears ridiculous disguises. Ironic. He was right, I still know it’s him no matter what he’s wearing. I wonder how long he will keep it up.

Tray Tray has canceled two of our recent tutoring sessions. Econ threatens to knock me off the high academic horse I’ve been riding if I don’t reconnect with her soon. I’m definitely not going to let that happen.