Chapter Forty-Eight: Dilemma, Part II

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Ophelia:

The entire drive home to my house, my throat feels kinda raw and my eyes prickle.

My lower lip wobbles and I purse my mouth together, frustrated at myself. I mean, this is such a good opportunity for Luke. Of course it is. Full scholarship to like, one of the best engineering programs in the country?  That's amazing. I should be so proud of him, and happy for him.

But when I get home, I rush to my room to avoid talking to anyone, and as soon as my bedroom door closes behind me, hot tears pool in my eyes, streak down my face.

He... He's going to move away, and leave me behind, and...

Kitchener is an hour and a half away from Toronto. I can't even imagine being so far from him.

He's Luke. And he's the love of my life, and we're supposed to be together forever, and...

I've lived ten minutes away from Luke for literally my entire life. We went to school together, and grew up together, and we see each other all the time. What will happen when I can't see him and be with him and hold him anymore?

I smother my face in a wad of tissues and curl up on my bed beneath a fluffy blanket, trying to get myself together, except the tears just won't stop.

I mean, I know I'm probably overreacting. He'll probably get into U of T, which I know is his first choice, but, school is so expensive and, a full scholarship is just... not something you can really turn down, is it?

Should he turn it down so he can stay in Toronto? Should I want him to turn it down, for me?

No, of course not, because that would be selfish and I love him and I want what's best for him but I still... can't live without him. I need him. I love him so much and the thought of being apart from him makes me sick.

What if he goes to university and meets all these new people, all these girls his age, and has all these cool new experiences without me and decides that he doesn't need me anymore? What if he meets another girl who's smarter and prettier and older and funnier and... she's there and he's there and I'm here, stuck in stupid high-school?

My chest aches from trying to stifle the sobs wracking my body and my throat aches, and my heart aches.

Maybe, next year I could apply to go to Waterloo too? But they don't even have a good English program, at all, so that kinda sucks.

Would I pick a sucky English program so I could be closer to Luke? Would he pick a sucky engineering program so he could be closer to me?

I don't know I don't know I don't know...

All I know is that whatever happens, we'll figure it out together, right? Him and I? We're a team and I'm sure we can... find the best solution for him, and me, and us. We have to. There isn't another option.

I'll just wait, for him to hear back from U of T. That's what I'll do, I think.

I scrub the tears away and sniffle away the congestion fogging up my nose. I try to tell myself that it will be okay but my heart doesn't believe it, because it keeps aching in my chest, squeezing painfully beneath my ribs.

Why does being in love have to hurt so much?

***

Melanie:

I'm about to call the kids for dinner when my phone starts buzzing.

Victoria's name flashes across the screen. I wipe my hands on a dishtowel, click the green button to accept the call. "Hey, you. What's up?"

"Hey, babe. How's it going?"

"Just finished cooking dinner. You?" I balance the phone between my ear and my shoulder, open up a drawer to pull out a serving dish.

"Same. I'm calling because I think we're gonna need to talk, Mel, about these kids of ours." My eyebrows scrunch together as I hear her heavy sigh seep through the speaker. She seems... serious, which I know means that she has something genuinely important to share. Which, coming from Victoria, gets me instantly worried. "I just spoke to Luke," she confides softly. "He's been hearing back from universities, for next year."

I lean back against the counter, knowing exactly where this is going. "Where did he get in?"

A small hum. "Ryerson, York, and McMasters. And..." Her tone shifts to something quieter. "He got a full scholarship to Waterloo, Mel. Tuition and housing, everything."

My shoulders feel heavy as the full implication of that settles in. "Congratulations, Vic. Aw. He must be excited, huh? I'm sure you and Dylan are so proud of him, that's amazing."

Her gentle, dry chuckle buzzes through the line. "Well, he doesn't seem all that excited, to tell the truth. Kitchener's not exactly around the corner."

My brow furrows knowingly. "Has he told Ophelia yet?"

"He did..." She lets out a loaded breath and confesses, "It's really stressing him out, Melanie. He is... hopelessly in love with your daughter. I think the very idea of leaving her nearly brings him to tears."

My heart constricts and my eyebrows pull together. Oh... I can already see the train-wreck lying ahead of us and have to force myself to take a breath, think about this rationally. "What about U of T? Any news there?"

"He hasn't heard back from them yet. You know that's always been his number one choice, but..."

I nod, already knowing. "It's a full scholarship, Victoria. That's an incredible opportunity for him."

"I know. We all know. I just thought I'd give you a call so we can... support them through this? I have a feeling it might get messy."

The visceral, sinking sensation in the pit of my stomach is telling me the same thing. "Thanks for the call, Vicky. I'll touch base with her, see how she's feeling. Keep us updated?"

"You got it."

I force a wry smile onto my face. "Alright, talk soon."

"See ya."

***

Ophelia:

I just finish washing my puffy, flushed face in the bathroom when Mom calls us for dinner.

I try to put on a cheerful face, try to make things seem normal. I'm just not ready to talk about it, I guess. I want to wait, until we have the full story, so that Luke and I can figure it out together, try to make it work.

I just don't think my parents will understand. They think that education and building a career is really important, the most important thing for me and Darcy right now, and I'm sure Luke's parents think the same thing, and... I mean, it's true, but...

But they think that Luke and I are just... kids. I know they don't really believe that what we have is real and perfect. And I'm sure that if I told them that Luke and I are planning on being together forever that they'd just laugh at me. They'd never believe it. They just don't get it.

I can feel Mom's eyes on me, throughout dinner, and Dad's too, but I just pretend not to notice.

They talk a little about work, and I tell them about school. Darce complains about one of his poli sci professors and things feel normal but at the same time, not normal, because everything is about to change and I just... need to figure it out. Luke and I have to figure it out. Figure out what we want for our future together, what's important to us, what our options are.

For a little while, I think I'm off the hook. I go to soccer practice, except my thoughts are all jumbled and distracted and anxious the entire time. But then, after I get home and take a shower, get comfortable in my bed, ready to think about it more and do some research and make a plan, there's a soft knock on my bedroom door.

"Hey, honey," Mom greets. "Can I come in for a sec?"

I nod reluctantly, hug my blanket tighter around myself and close my iPad so she can't see the University of Waterloo web-page I was looking at.

She comes to sit on the edge of my bed like she usually does and we stay like that in awkward silence for a few long moments before she explains, "Aunt Victoria told me, about Luke's scholarship."

I chew on the inside of my cheek and focus on the colourful quilted fabric bunched around my waist. "He told me about it this afternoon," I mumble, not looking at her.

She waits some more before asking, tentatively, "How are you feeling about it?"

I fight back the stinging feeling in my throat and just murmur, "Waiting for him to hear back from U of T, and then... we'll see what happens..."

She gives my knee a tender squeeze and her lips pull up into a small smile. "Your dad and I are always here if you want to talk to us about it, okay? I'm sure things will work out for the best in the end."

I swallow away the dry lump lodged in the back of my mouth and just nod. "Thanks."

She strokes back my hair, leans in to give me a kiss on the forehead. "Love you, pumpkin."

"Love you too." My voice sounds weaker and rougher and I hate it. I hate this. I hate feeling like this, so useless and unsure and worried.

She eventually shuts the door again behind her and I spend the next couple hours in an internet wormhole, learning everything I can about Luke's program and the different schools, about co-ops and internships and job opportunities and tuition.

So that, I can support him and so that we can get through it together.

Him and I, we'll figure it out, I know we will. We have to.

***

Luke:

Thursday morning, I check my email and there's still nothing. I go to work at the construction site, feeling kinda dazed the entire time as I help out with some admin stuff in the office, shadow one of the engineers in a couple meetings.

Last night, after Fee left, I was feeling so shitty and so I finally told my parents about what was going on. At first, they were really happy for me, and then they saw the look on my face and they got these sympathetic, knowing expressions on their faces, obviously realizing.

Mum told me it's a big decision, but that it's my decision, and that I should wait to hear what all my options are before I decide. They told me that there are obviously a lot of important things to consider and that it's important to do what I think is best and I just...

I don't know. I don't know anymore.

At the end of high-school I was tired of school and studying so I thought I'd take some time off, work, take it easy, before starting university. But these last few months, I've been really ready to go back to school, ready to move on with my life, you know?

And Waterloo is an amazing school.

And it's two hours away.

And Ophelia is... she's Ophelia. Feelz.

She's supposed to be the love of my life.

What if I go away to university and she meets some guy her age in high-school who sees her everyday, and makes her happy, and she decides she doesn't want me anymore?

But, if I stick around in Toronto at Ryerson or York, then I might not get the same research and career opportunities, and that might mean getting a worse job later on, and how is that good for Fee and I? I don't want to have to be one of those engineers who travels all the time. I want to stay in one place, with my family, with her.

And tuition, and scholarships and...

I barely get any sleep at night, because I'm tossing and turning and thinking and worrying. Maybe and what-if and yes and no, here and there.

Friday morning, I check my inbox first thing, and there's still nothing.

So I get ready, have breakfast, go to work, try and pretend everything is normal even though my insides have turned into a twisted pile of anxiety and uncertainty.

When I get home after work, I check my email again.

There's an unread message from the University of Toronto and my heart skips a beat, leaps into my throat at the sight of it.

I click on it, read through it once.

And twice, and three times.

Numbness settles across my skin, something cold crawls slowly down my spine.

The words we regret to inform you and waitlist and not admitted float in front of my eyes, through my head, the seriousness of them not fully dawning on me.

Didn't get into U of T.

York or Ryerson or Waterloo.

Ophelia.

My career, the rest of my life...

The tension strains my shoulders and tightens my face. My throat feels all raw and my eyes sting as I stand there in room, tugging at my hair and staring glassily at the wall.

There's this tidal wave of emotion, of angst and futility and confusion that washes over me, spears through my entire body. Intense frustration and helplessness, all at once, red and black and grey and what the fuck am I suppose to do and

Before I even know what's happened, my right arm is stuck in a crumbling hole of drywall and plaster and paint, my entire fist stinging, knuckles scraped and bloodied.

I lean my other arm against the wall and my forehead collapses against it and warm, wet tracks slide from my eyes down my face.

It wasn't supposed to be this way.

***

A/N:

Ouch.

In junior high once, we had a guest speaker who was talking to us about mental health, who said that keeping your emotions bottled up inside is toxic and unhealthy but drywall is cheap so, uh.

I'm tired. Is anyone else tired? Even though I've been doing like nothing?

XOXO Ami

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