Chapter 29
EDEN
“Ms. Shaw.I’m so glad you made time to come in today.”
I stand in the doorway of my academic adviser’s office, nerves pricking at my skin. Dr. Rockwell peers at me over the top of her thick-rimmed glasses and gestures to the plush arm chair in front of her desk.
“Go ahead and have a seat.”
I take in the slight smile on her face. That’s how she normally smiles ever since she’s been my academic adviser. That’s gotta be a good sign, right?
I still can’t shake the dread in my stomach as I lower myself down into the chair while thinking about the email she sent me yesterday morning.
Do you have time to stop by my office to talk about an issue that’s recently come up?
That’s not necessarily indicative of bad news…I mean, if it were, I feel like she would have been much more urgent. But the tone of her message doesn’t read “good news” either…
I let out a quiet sigh and sit up straight in the chair. “What did you want to talk about?” I ask, my toned a forced sort of pleasant.
When Dr. Rockwell lets out a sigh of her own and folds her hands on her desk, that’s when I know this definitely isn’t good news. Crap.
“Eden, let me be frank. You’ve been missing a few of your classes lately and it’s been getting on your professors’ nerves.”
“Oh.” I’m shocked at hearing this. Yes, it’s true that I’ve had a handful of absences so far semester—all because I had to put in extra hours working on Dream Guy. But I made sure that I haven’t exceeded the absence limit in any of my classes.
“Absences are typically a sign that a student is losing interest in their courses. Or they’re experiencing something stressful. I just want to make sure that you’re committed to your program of study and that everything is okay,” Dr. Rockwell says.
“Dr. Rockwell, I assure you, I’m perfectly fine. And committed to my courses. Very committed.” A weird feeling hits when I say that. Like I’m reciting lines that I’ve rehearsed, even though I haven’t. I’m saying exactly how I feel. I think? I ignore that tinge of doubt lingering at the back of my mind.
“I have to say, I’m kind of shocked that my professors would reach out to you. I haven’t exceeded the absence limit in any of my classes. And with all due respect to my instructors and you, I don’t think a few absences warrants a meeting with my academic adviser.”
Dr. Rockwell glances down at her folded hands for a second before returning her pointed gaze to me.
“Eden, let me be honest with you. I understand what you’re saying. And you’re right, you haven’t exceeded the absence limit. But I prefer being proactive with the students I advise. I don’t like letting a problem get out of control before addressing it.”
I fall back slightly in my chair. I’m a problem now?
“You’ve done well in your courses, but I’ll tell you this: you seem distracted lately. When we met last month and the month before for our regular student-advisor meetings, you didn’t seem totally focused like you did when you first started here at Portland State College.”
I think back to those meetings, realizing that she’s right. I’ve been so consumed with Dream Guy that I’ve been rushing through everything school-related. I haven’t been giving it my one hundred percent focus.
“I know you’ve got a busy life. We all do. I’m not na?ve enough to think that you or any student prioritizes school above everything else they’ve got going on. But you’re a very gifted student, Eden. I’d hate to see whatever is distracting you affect how well you do in your courses.”
I start to stammer a response, but she holds up a hand.
“You don’t have to defend yourself,” she says gently. “That’s not why I brought you in here. I just want you to think about what it is you truly want. Is it completing your coursework here at Portland State College? Or is it something else?”
I open my mouth to answer, even though it’s just now occurring to me that I don’t have the slightest clue what my answer to that question is.
“You don’t have to answer that right now. Just think about what I’ve said, okay?”
I nod. With that, our meeting ends. I thank Dr. Rockwell for her concern and walk out of her office, a mix of shocked and confused. As I exit her office building, I wander around campus and attempt to process everything that Dr. Rockwell said. Do I like attending classes here? Yes. Do I like all my classes? Of course not. Am I distracted? Absolutely. What do I like more: going to class or developing Dream Guy? No question there: Dream Guy.
I stop walking and ask myself an important question: if I could only do college or Dream Guy, which would I choose?
It’s a no brainer. Dream Guy all the way.
But I can’t quit school. Not when I know just how much earning a college degree means to my parents. Yeah, we don’t see eye-to-eye on a lot of things and that’s caused a lot of our conflict in my life. But I still love them. And despite the tough front I put up, despite all the things I’ve done in my life to defy them, deep down I still want their approval.
And earning my degree, the one thing they’ve always wanted me to do, is key in repairing our strained relationship.
Even as the realization bounces around in my head, it still leaves me feeling uneasy. Because now I know without a doubt that I’m not attending college for myself anymore; I’m doing it solely for my parents.
What feels like an invisible rock settles in my chest, amping up the unease that I feel.
I pull my phone out to distract myself and instantly feel the urge to text Danny. But I stop myself. Ever since he met up with my brother a couple nights ago, he hasn’t been very chatty with me. When I texted him to ask how it went, all he said was, “Okay for the most part.” And every time I’ve tried to start up a conversation with him since then, it’s been short responses.
I know exactly why—and I totally understand. Seeing Cruz must have made Danny feel guilty. He’s secretly dating me, his best friend’s sister, behind his back. He had to look Cruz in the eye and pretend like everything was good and normal. He needs time to process that on his own.
Even though I logically understand, it still hurts to be ignored by the guy I’m dating.
My thumb hovers over his name in my text message bank. I finally say screw it and text him.
Hey, are you around? I’m on campus and thought I could stop by and say hi.
Three gray dots appear on my screen but soon disappear. They pop up again. Then disappear again. That happens one more time before Danny stops typing.
When the screen stays blank, I scoff. Is he seriously blowing me off?
I grit my teeth and force out a breath. I understand completely if Danny needs time to himself, but all he has to do is tell me that. This whole “texting like an angsty teenager” act he’s pulling isn’t going to fly with my any longer.
I shove my phone in my pocket and head in the direction of the art building. I’ve given him enough space. It’s time for him to talk to me face to face.