Begin Again by Emma Lord

Author:Emma Lord [Lord, Emma]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Macmillan

Chapter Nineteen

That weekend a cold front comes in that has everyone burrowed indoors—everyone except Shay, who’s home for the weekend. After spending most of Saturday and Sunday sitting on my bed overthinking every thought I can possibly think and not getting a single thing done, I regret not going home, too.

The thing is, there is plenty to overthink. Namely the fear that’s rippled like an undercurrent ever since I got my acceptance letter—the fear that I don’t belong here. That I’m not cut out to match pace with these ultrasmart, supercompetitive kids in this top-tier school the way my parents were. That I’ll never have the same easy sense of belonging it seems like everyone around me has, that even Connor seems to have even though he doesn’t go here anymore.

Then there’s Shay and Valeria, a problem I’ve still managed to unpack from a hundred directions even though the most obvious one is stay out of it. And I have. But it doesn’t take it from the forefront of my mind, knowing Shay is out there angry with herself and Val is out there embarrassed to have people reading her words and I’m just sitting here unable to do anything to help.

In the periphery I keep trying to ignore is . . . everything else. The overdue call to my dad. Milo’s news. The ribbons I’m worried I’ll never have enough of. Those are the sharper thoughts, the ones I have to push down before the edges catch me by surprise. So I ignore them. I make lists that go nowhere. I draft an email to my professor about the exam I never send. I stare at my phone long enough to burn a hole in it.

And then the phone rings. There’s this instant, almost desperate kind of relief. I’ll tell Connor everything. Maybe he’ll know what to do, what to say.

“Hey.” My voice is so hoarse I realize I haven’t spoken to anyone all day. “How’s life?”

“It’s, uh . . .” I hear a door click shut and imagine him in his bedroom at his parents’ house. “Well. I guess it could be better.”

“What’s wrong?”

“You’ll be so disappointed in me.”

I sit up straight in bed. “I could never be disappointed in you.”

Connor sighs, like that’s the last thing he wants to hear right now. “I’m, uh . . . I’m not doing so hot in my classes. It turns out.”

There’s an immediate sympathy chased by an overwhelming relief. “Oh. Well—me neither, really.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” I say, my spirits already lifting just hearing him on the other end of the line. “I just bombed an exam, actually. How about you?”

There’s a beat. “I’m, uh. I’m failing two classes.”

I’m glad he called and didn’t FaceTime, because I can’t stop my eyes from widening. “Well. There’s still time to turn things around.”

“Yeah, but . . . my application to transfer back. They’ll see those.” Connor takes a breath so heavy I can feel the weight of it even all these miles away. “Andie, I don’t think I’m going to get back in.

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