The secret study sessions in the library were going perfectly. Ryan was an incredible teacher, and the empty classrooms felt safe and private. We were making serious progress in math; I had gotten most of it anyway. Now we just read together and help each other out with flashcards, often ending our sessions around 8:00 PM. Nic and I hadn't spoken since our impulsive outburst. I saw him around sometimes, and he saw me too, though he always pretended not to. Well, I did the same.
"Thank you," I said to Ryan after he walked me off to my dorm. A few minutes later, I grabbed my coat and hurried to Jen's café for an espresso before she closed up for the night. On my way out, I ran into Nic. I played it cool, as usual. I didn't know what hit me, but I brought up Ryan, and I observed as his expression changed. His eyes flickered, sharper than usual, at the mention of Ryan's name, though he tried to cover it with a shrug. That told me all I needed to know. It was about me. I pulled his strings again, trying to provoke any emotion from him, but he was quiet, masking it all. I didn't read any meaning into it; I didn't want to dwell in my fantasies anymore.
My study sessions with Ryan started turning into casual hangouts. Our friendship overflowed beyond the bounds of the library. We began grabbing quick, late-afternoon lunches together at the campus food hall, and I found myself swinging by James's dorm room.
Ryan was everything Nic was not: easygoing, genuinely funny, and entirely unburdened by external expectations. He didn't treat me like a ticking time bomb or a professional liability; he just treated me like a friend. I realized I craved his easy company, especially after Nic's last suffocating "instruction."
It was a Friday evening in my room, with Oprah and Zina causing all sorts of chaos. Oprah had just resumed classes a week ago. She came in as the first runner-up in her string instrument competition and kept whining that if she had played the cello instead of the piano, she would have won. Zina and I encouraged her anyway; she was perfect in our eyes, and she didn't need to pursue a music major if it wasn't what her parents wanted, to pursue a degree and become a professional just like them.
Zina suggested a group outing. "We need a break from syllabus shock," she declared. "Dinner downtown tomorrow."
"Great, I'll inform the boys." We rarely left campus because we had everything we needed on campus, but it would be nice to feel the world outside of these walls.
The plan solidified quickly: me, Zina, Oprah, James, and Ryan.
The evening was perfect. We found a lively local bistro off-campus. It was a week until Halloween, and the streets were lit up with Halloween decorations. The conversation flowed easily among the four of us. James and Zina were in a hilarious debate about who knows what.
"Okay, guys, I saw a haunted house sign on our way here, let's go check it out," Zina said.
"Count me out," I said.
"Me too, that's really not my thing," Ryan seconded.
"Well, that's sorta my thing" James interrupted.
"Oprah…" Zina smiled weirdly at her.
"Well, I guess that leaves me no choice; I can't have them eating each other alive," Oprah said with a sigh.
"Good thing you're going with them; don't take too long," I said, waving them off. It was just Ryan and me now. I looked up at him.
"We should order desserts. What do you think?"
"Sounds good to me." We both got ice cream.
"So, you're a scaredy-cat like me," I teased as I scooped my ice cream.
"No, I'm not; I just think there's no logical reason to scare humans for entertainment."
"So you're still a scaredy-cat then," I laughed.
"I guess so…" he admitted, slightly embarrassed. Our conversation drifted to our experiences with scary movies until the rest returned. They didn't take long, as I thought.
As the night wound down, Oprah pulled Zina and James away and wandered off to check out a street musician, leaving Ryan and me trailing behind. The atmosphere shifted. We were walking beneath the old campus oaks, and the easy chatter faded away.
"I had a really great time tonight, Annabel," Ryan said, his voice soft.
"Me too, Ryan. It was nice to just… be normal."
He stopped, turning to face me completely. The soft campus lights filtered through the leaves, casting a warm glow on his kind, earnest face—although he looked slightly nervous.
"Look, I know you're dealing with a lot of pressure from your family and from Nic," he began, "and I really respect that you're serious about school. But I can't keep pretending I just want to have study sessions with you." For someone who was usually reserved, he was quite bold.
My heart gave a heavy thump. I knew where this was going.
"Anne," he continued, taking a step closer, "I really like you. Like, more than a friend. You're the first person here who makes me forget I'm supposed to be glued to a compiler 24/7. I'd really like to take you out on an actual date, just you and me, if you'd let me."
The confession was everything a nice, traditional boy's confession should be—sweet, respectful, and earnest. It was flattering, but the only thought that surfaced was, What would Nic say?