Catching Feelings by Ana Hartnett Reichardt

Author:Ana Hartnett Reichardt [Reichardt, Ana Hartnett]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bold Strokes Books
Published: 2022-09-01T23:08:13+00:00

Chapter Eleven

I love taking tests. Sure, I’m skilled at note-taking and organization and am, generally speaking, a “good student.” But tests are where I really shine. My pen cuts across the stapled paper as I finish my short answer on behavioral phenomena and sensory processes. Done. As a rule, and I’m sure this is a very unpopular one, I never double-check anything. Not one answer. I always go with the first thing to pop into my head. Studies have shown that your gut is usually right.

While the rest of the class hunches over their papers, I pack up quietly and bring my test to Dr. Phillips. “First one to finish, again. How’d you do?” she whispers.

“Hoping for a triple-digit score.” I give her a thumbs-up and a smile as I move toward the door. I’m meeting up with Katie in the dining hall for a quick bite before my next class.

“Well, that would be a first.”

“See ya Friday, Dr. Phillips.”

My feet thud against the linoleum of the empty hallway, and I push through the door into the early spring afternoon. Free…for a moment. I cut across the lower quad and admire the return of green on the trees and the contrast of the colors with the gray stone of the buildings. Katie sits on a bench outside of the dining hall just across the concourse.

She waves when she sees me walking up. “You’re done already?”

I hold up finger guns and blow imaginary smoke from the barrels. “Fastest in the south.”

“Come on, nerd. I’m starving.”

We grab our lunch and sit next to the fireplace in a pair of cozy old armchairs. This spot is always taken, and I can see why; it isn’t hard to imagine lounging here in the warmth of fire and leather and friends for a couple of hours.

“So you’re officially cleared?” Katie asks.

“Yep. I’m cleared to resume any and all activities. That means Kim gets to reacquaint herself with the bench, and I finally get to play again.”

Katie wipes some crumbs from her sweatshirt. “Oh, come on, it was one week. You flew through protocol.”

“I didn’t ‘fly’ through it. That implies that we didn’t take it seriously. I just got lucky.”

She raises an eyebrow. “You’re positive you’re okay to come back?”

“I know it seems fast, given the drama of the hit and me passing out—”

“Getting knocked out. Big difference.”

“Knocked out. Yes. But honestly, I just wasn’t affected very much after a day or two. Good as new.”

Another brow rises.

“I promise,” I say.

I take the opportunity to down a couple of bites of lasagna while Katie contemplates my ability to play. The dining hall prepares some surprisingly delicious meals, a luxury I know many colleges don’t have.

“Okay,” Katie finally says. “I believe you.”

“Good.”

“How are things with you and Maya?”

I shrug. “You know how they are.”

She leans forward, elbows on knees, and rubs her hands in front of the fire. “Do you like her, Andy?”

The question doesn’t shock me. It perturbs me, exposes me. Makes me realize my left butt cheek is numb.

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