Chapter 37 Chloe
chloe
Sometime in the last two hours, the main floor of the library has almost completely filled up.
Between tutoring, classes, volunteering, and all the time I’ve been spending with Maverick, I knew that I had to turn my phone on DND, plug the flow state app in my headphones, and get to studying.
It would appear I’m not the only one that's either behind, or just trying to get a head start on finals. I stretch my arms over my head and crack my knuckles. I offer a hushed, ‘Sorry,’ when the girl across from me looks up like I’ve fired off a canon rather than just popped my small bones.
I rifle through my bag, because even though I couldn’t see incoming notifications, I still didn’t trust myself not to get distracted.
When I turn my phone back to default mode, suddenly DND feels like a huge mistake when I unlock it and find an email from the school.
It’s been over a week since that interview, which in the grand scheme of life I guess is a grain of sand.
But in my current situation, it felt like a lifetime. Without hesitation, I open the email.
Dear Ms. Cooper,
After an extensive interview process, we regret to inform you that we were unable to select you for the teacher assistant position for Professor Carlos Soto in the upcoming semester.
We greatly appreciate your interest in the role and hope you consider applying for a position again for a future semester if it still fits in your academic plans.
We thank you for your time and wish you luck in your future here at Linden Creek University.
Tina Marshall
A rush fills my head as all the blood drops and fills my legs.
We regret to inform you.
I read the words three times over but they never fully set in.
We regret to inform you.
I read again. How is this possible? How did—How…How did this happen?
When I can no longer form a coherent thought, and before I end up frozen to the chair, I cram all my shit into my bag in the messiest—but still on-brand—way possible, and practically sprint for the front doors.
I faintly register orange and brown leaves falling around me, but it’s the failure and the panic I can’t get a grip on. The wind is strong today, whipping my hair across my face, and I close my eyes as I run through the campus, desperate to get out of here.
“Woah.” One hand grips my bicep and I’m spun around. “Where are you running off to?”
“I—” I look around from the library now in the background to Nathan’s hand clutching my elbow. Liquid heat begins building in my eyes, and my throat already burns. “I have to go.” I turn, pulling out of his grip and batting my fingers across my water line.
“Chloe, wait.” Nathan runs fast enough to pass me, then stops in front of me with both hands on my shoulders. “You can’t still be mad at me.”
My face furrows and I push out of his hold.
“I’m not mad at you,” I say more annoyed than I intended. “I just need to get home.”
“You seem like you’re still mad.”
“Well, that’s because you're self-centered.” This time, the annoyance was intentional.
“Okay.” He huffs. “Clearly, you’re upset with me.”
“Nathan, enough. I’m not mad or upset, because in order to be those things with you, I would have to think about you.”
He rolls his eyes, and I know I’ve touched a nerve.
I dared to poke that precious little ego of his and now he’s feeling the bruise.
He scoffs while somehow still smiling as he attempts to come off as unphased, but with my rose colored glasses finally off, I feel like I’m seeing him for the first time.
I’m able to see so clearly through his bullshit now.
“I know you think the world revolves around you, but that’s only going to get you so far.
Now, can you please move.” I don’t give him the chance to say anything else, or even to be decent and step out of the way.
Instead, I lead with my shoulder as I barge past him and I don’t stop until I get home.
Steam fills the glass dome of my diffuser as the lavender oil begins to circulate. Somehow, I managed to make it home without crying. Panic hasn’t set in yet either, so I’m attempting to get ahead of it, by blasting some calming oils throughout my apartment.
The knock on my front door startles me. I peel myself off the couch, dropping the pillow I was clinging to, and open the door.
“Hey. What’s wrong?” Maverick asks, slightly out of breath.
“Did you run here?”
“You asked me to come as soon as I was done,” he replies like the answer is obvious. “Noah drove us today, and Milly’s waiting for him to finish a meeting with Coach, so I just showered and ran over.”
I close my eyes, dropping my head. Maverick steps in, kicking the front door closed behind him. Before I can brace myself, his arms wrap around me. I slump against his chest, finally letting the tears I’ve been holding back spill freely.
“What happened?” He holds me close against his body with one arm while his other hand cradles the back of my head.
“I didn’t get the TA position.”
His breath brushes against my ear, and I try not to wonder if he’s disappointed.
“Awe, Chlo.” His arms tighten around me. “Did they tell you why?”
I shake my head, wiping my tears with the sleeve of my sweatshirt. “I just got an email that said they appreciated my interest but they were unable to select me.” My shoulders slump and I take a step back, hanging my head low.
He tilts my face toward his, brushing his thumb along my tear-streaked cheek. His chest is still warm from running over here, and when I place my hand there, the feeling of his heavy heartbeat somehow calms my own.
I breathe out, dropping some of the tension in my shoulders.
“What can I do?” he asks softly. “Do you want me to order some food?”
“I’m not really hungry. I just—” I shake my head again, but at least the tears have slowed. “I just want to lie down.”
He nods once, takes my hand in his, kisses the knuckles, and guides us toward my room.
The sun fell some time ago and the moon is on the horizon, lighting up only a small corner of my room. Maverick hasn’t moved. His arms are wrapped around me like he’s anchoring us both.
I don’t know if I’ve processed what happened yet, but I do know that it felt manageable as soon as Maverick got here.
Whether it was his understanding, or that now he was the one believing that it would work out.
Maybe it was because it was the first time I’ve failed at something and his reaction was that it was okay.
His thumb traces slow absent shapes across my shoulder. It’s so small, but it’s steady in a way that makes something in my chest finally loosen.
I’ve been hesitant to trust my heart again.
I know now that I’ve been blinded by this desire to have love.
I thought if I was patient, understanding, and tireless enough it would happen.
That was how I was showing my love. But I’ve been so focused on proving my worth in every aspect of my life, that I never stopped long enough to look up and see if it was worth me.
With Maverick, he meets me right back. He doesn’t just give loyalty freely, but from the second I shared mine with him, he reciprocated it. I might not have said the words out loud, but I’ve shown him attention, and care, and he’s mirrored it every time.
So, while I’ve been hesitant to open up to the idea of giving my heart to someone again, Maverick has taught me that real love doesn’t drain you. And even in this moment, when I should be uncertain about everything, I’ve never been more sure that my heart is beyond full of love for him.
“You sleeping?” Maverick whispers against the back of my head while he trails his fingers over my shoulder.
I shake my head so soft I’m not sure he understood me, but when he shifts up onto his elbow, and plants a kiss to my temple, I know he did.
I roll onto my back, looking up at him. He’s covered in shadows, with the exception of the sliver of moonlight his eyes shine in. He’s so perfect it takes my breath away.
“What are you thinking about?” he asks, brushing a lock of hair away from my face.
My heart hammers so fast and loud that I feel it everywhere. I lick my lips, and try to swallow the tears lining my eyes. I try to hold it all back, try to hold out just a little longer, but I’ve lost all control.
“Is this real?” My voice is a shaky whisper.
I feel his gaze on me like a thousand suns, and then for the first time since the one and only fake kiss, his lips are on mine. “It’s real, butterfly.”