40. Chapter Forty
The morning after, the archives still sit heavy in my chest as I walk into the Behavioral Entomology lecture hall.
The ache from Dean Reynolds’s words hasn’t disappeared, but I refuse to let it dim the one place where I have always felt most like myself.
I square my shoulders and step through the familiar doorway.
The tiered room hums with its usual low energy, the scrape of chairs and the faint rustle of notebooks opening around me.
The sharp, chemical bite of dry-erase markers mixes with the comforting scent of old paper and the distant aroma of coffee someone has brought in with them.
I breathe it in slowly, letting the familiar smells settle over me like a second skin.
I make my way to my usual seat in the front row and slide into it, notebook already open on the narrow desk in front of me. The blank page waits, ready for whatever Dr. Okonkwo is about to share.
This is still mine. The work, the focus, the learnings waiting inside every lecture. No matter what the rest of campus sees when they look at me now, this room still belongs to me alone.
Dr. Okonkwo sweeps into the lecture hall like a sudden storm, her colorful patterned scarf fluttering behind her and her voice already filling the room before she even reaches the podium.
She launches straight into a story about firefly mating signals, hands moving in wide arcs as she describes the precise flashes of light that males use to court females across dark rainforest canopies.
Her Nigerian accent curls around every word, vibrant and lively, and the entire room leans forward without meaning to.
“Imagine,” she says, eyes sparkling, “one wrong flicker of light and the lady firefly simply turns away. Precision, my dears. That is what wins the mate.”
A ripple of laughter moves through the seats. I smile despite the lingering weight in my chest, my pen already moving across the page as I try to capture every detail.
Then Dr. Okonkwo pauses. She sets her notes down with deliberate care and lets the silence stretch just long enough to make everyone sit up straighter.
“And speaking of precision,” she continues, voice dropping into something almost reverent, “I have the final selections for our mid-term rainforest field expedition. These slots are limited, and they were awarded on pure academic merit.”
My heart gives a single hard thud against my ribs before it feels like it stops entirely. I grip my pen tighter as she lifts the sheet of paper and begins reading the names in order.
Each one lands like a small stone in still water. Upperclassmen mostly. A sophomore here, a junior there. Our class of freshmen shifts restlessly, already preparing for disappointment.
Then she reaches the last name on the list.
“Elodie Maddison,” she says clearly, “our only freshman selected.”
A polite applause carries through our class, mixed with surprised whispers. Heads turn toward me so fast I feel the collective shift of air. My cheeks burn hot as Dr. Okonkwo beams straight at me, her smile wide and proud.
“That is right,” she calls over the noise, pointing one elegant finger in my direction. “The rest of you should be taking notes.”
The moment feels huge, bigger than anything I expected. I’m the only freshman going. The only one. My notebook blurs for a second, and for the first time since Dean Reynolds’ words yesterday, something pleased and tingling blooms in my chest.
I did this. On my own.
Dr. Okonkwo’s proud smile finds me again, wide and genuine, and for the rest of the lecture I sit there wrapped in it, barely hearing the rest of her words.
When class finally ends and students begin to file out, she calls my name from the front of the room.
“Elodie, a moment please.”
I gather my notebook and walk down to her desk on legs that feel a little shaky. She waits until the last student is gone before she turns to me fully, her dark eyes sparkling with real delight.
“That paper you submitted on pheromone trails and colony hierarchy was exceptional,” she says, voice direct.
“The way you connected insect chemical ecology to broader social systems showed real insight. I knew the moment I read it that you belonged on this trip. Congratulations, my dear. You earned every single bit of this spot.”
Her praise lands like a maternal hand on my shoulder.
I feel brilliant all on my own. Despite what anyone thinks, academia still belongs to me completely, untouched and alive.
I head outside and sit on a bench for a moment, my poetry notebook opening in front of me before I can think twice about it.
Rainforest canopy dripping gold,
pinned wings catching firefly light,
one small voice rising through the green.
I stare at the words for a long moment, then close the notebook with shaky hands. The ache from yesterday feels smaller now, like something I can carry without letting it bend me.
Back at my desk in the archives, I set my notebook down and pull out my phone with fingers that still tremble just a little. The glow of the screen feels brighter than the lamplight above me.
I open the group chat and type the simplest words I can manage, heart still racing from the lecture hall.
I made the mid-term field trip. Only freshman selected. I can’t believe it!
The replies come so fast my phone buzzes almost continuously in my hand.
Alex: Elodie, that is incredible. We are so proud of you. Dinner tonight to celebrate? Our treat. 7pm at La Tavola in town.
Adrian: I knew your paper would stand out. Can’t wait to hear every detail tonight.
Chase: You earned this. See you at 7. I’ll drive.
Then Jamie’s voice note pops up. I press play and his bright, excited voice fills the hushed space around my desk.
“BABY! You’re the ONLY freshman?! I’m literally screaming in the editing suite right now. This is HUGE. I’m bringing my camera tonight so we can film you telling the story properly. Wear something cute, I’m already counting down the minutes. You’re a genius.”
I laugh softly under my breath, the sound echoing in the silence left behind from Jamie’s enthusiasm.
The invitation sends a wave of excited trepidation through me.
Tonight will be our first official date with all five of us out in public.
Just us, together, celebrating something I earned completely on my own.
I set the phone down and rest my fingertips on the edge of my notebook, the poetry from earlier still visible in the margin. The ache from yesterday feels smaller now. Today reminded me that my future is still mine first, and the pack wants to celebrate it with me instead of taking it away.
“Elodie Maddison, only freshman chosen for the entire rainforest expedition? I am so proud of you I could actually burst!”
Sophie gets going the second I step in front of the mirror, bright and bubbly enough to make Noodle’s ears twitch in her lap. She sits perched on the edge of my bed, legs swinging like she can’t possibly stay still, one hand still stroking the little gray tabby’s sleek, healthy fur.
Noodle looks utterly content, eyes half closed, purring so loudly the sound vibrates through the whole room. Chase’s care really has worked wonders. She is a completely different cat from the scruffy stray who used to scratch through my window.
I laugh and glance over my shoulder at her, cheeks already heating. “You’re being dramatic again. It’s just one spot on the trip. Plenty of people got in.”
Sophie presses both hands to her chest like she might actually explode from excitement. “Just one spot? The whole campus is buzzing about it. I heard two different professors talking about your application in the quad this afternoon. You did that, Elodie.”
Her grin is infectious. I let myself soak in the words, let them wash over me like the late afternoon light reflecting in the mirror behind me. Even if I know she is exaggerating a little, it still feels nice.
Then she tilts her head, still petting Noodle’s ears. “But are you ready? It’s only a few days away… ugh, academics move at the speed of a sleepy caterpillar. They take forever to finalize anything useful. You have basically no time to prepare properly.”
Her expression turns playful. “Though I bet the pack is already planning to spoil you rotten. Specialized field notebooks, fancy insect proof gear, all those thoughtful little things they know you will adore. They’re going to make sure you have everything you need.”
A rush of warmth blooms deep in my chest, sweet and unwavering, the kind that comes so easily now whenever anyone mentions them.
At the same time, a tiny flicker of nerves stirs low in my stomach at the thought of the fancy dinner waiting for us tonight. La Tavola. All five of us, out in public, celebrating something for me.
I turn back to the mirror, watching my strawberry blonde waves catch the golden ribbons of light.
I bemoan the loud color even now, wishing I were not quite so identifiable, and let the warmth and the small flutter of nerves sit side by side inside me.
Sighing, I turn away from the mirror, the little flutter of nerves growing stronger. “I have nothing nice enough to wear to La Tavola. It’s a proper fancy restaurant. The pack chose it to celebrate and I’m going to show up looking like I just stepped out of the archives again.”
Sophie’s eyes light up with that familiar matchmaking sparkle. She sets Noodle gently on the bed and hops up, crossing to my closet in three quick steps. “You absolutely do not. Look right here.”
She slides the hangers aside and pulls out the one formal dress I own, the simple black knee length one I bought on a whim last year and have worn exactly once. “This is perfect. The back is elegant, and different enough from what you usually wear. It will look stunning on you.”
I take the hanger from her and hold the dress up. The fabric feels cool and smooth under my fingers, nothing like the soft cardigans and check skirts I live in. Black has always seemed too striking for me, too far from the muted neutral palette I prefer.