Final exams. The thing that had haunted me and stressed me and continuously chewed me up only spat me back out during November.
For the most part, I was prepared. The lesser part, not so much. I knew the content. I remembered most of the things I had stayed up late studying and revising in the morning. But as I walked up to the large building on campus, I began to question how to spell my own last name.
I had done all sorts of tests my whole life, every year, and I never failed any of them. I had my own system of learning new things, and over the years, I perfected that technique. However, this was college, no matter how many times Aiden told me that the 'college' part didn't matter; That it was just another simple test.
I knew he was right, but the nerves and shaky breaths came anyway. I muttered to myself as I pushed through the building doors, stepping into the otherwise crowded space. This was the first exam of the day. I had another in four hours I didn't dare allow myself to think about. I needed to approach this one at a time. If I thought about the stress that awaited me throughout the week, I would probably have an anxiety attack right in the middle of the auditorium, which I had entered to find a seat.
"Alright, guys," the professor at the front of the room shouted. "I'm going to hand out the stack of exams to the people seated at the front. You will take one and pass the rest of the stack to the person behind you. If someone gets skipped, please let me know, and we will get you one." He went on, "If you don't have a pen, I have some at the front. Once everyone has their test, we can start."
As he explained his instructions, my heart raced faster, smacking against my ribcage. My palms began to sweat, the back of my knees already starting to feel damp. I shifted in my seat and gripped the pen I had taken out of my bag in my hand. I watched restlessly as people closest to the front were handed the stack of exam papers, and they were passed on to the people seated behind them.
When the stack reached me, I stared at the front page. I swallowed thickly and inhaled as far as I could.
"Hey, can you pass them over?" A girl behind me whispered. If she was as nervous as I was, she did not show it. I nodded and took my paper, handing the rest to her.
Once everyone had their exam, the professor received the spares and leaned against the table, peering up at the clock hung on the wall above the whiteboard. "Alright, everyone," he said, "The test lasts an hour and a half. You may begin."
Ninety excruciating minutes.
My pen decided to run out of ink halfway through. I reached for my bag to take out my emergency pen (I always carry an emergency pen), only to find out that one had spilled ink all over the bottom of my bag. I wasn't even close to finishing my exam, which meant I couldn't afford any lost time. I then turned to the girl seated behind me and quickly explained to her my situation. She happily gave me her spare.
I faced the half-filled page and began answering each question with another shaky breath.
The rest of the week passed almost the same, with the only exceptions being the lack of pens. So after that first exam, I went out and bought a whole packet of ten black inked pens for five dollars.
Each night I returned to my apartment, Aiden would be waiting for me outside the door, sitting on the ground and leaning against the wall. He carried coffee and sandwiches in a bag. And every time I saw him, I wanted nothing more than to wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him, then cry from the stress. But I didn't. I thanked him with a kiss and spent the rest of my nights with him. One, in particular, I had gotten a phone call from Barbara.
"Emma!" She sounded nervous. "How are you? How was exam week?"
"Stressful," I admitted. "But good, thank you for asking. How are you and Sam?"
"We're good! Gabriel is getting more and more excited for Christmas." She let out a stiff laugh.
"Is everything okay?" I asked, immediately worrying.
"Oh, yes! Yes, honey, everything's fine." She cleared her throat, paused, and sighed. "I just wanted to ask you something...."
I straightened in my desk chair, briefly glancing at Aiden studying atop my bed, pen between his front teeth. Always handsome.
"Sure. What's up?" I bit down on my bottom lip, using my pencil to draw any random pattern that came to mind.
"I wanted to invite you over for Christmas dinner. I know you might want to spend the holidays with your mother, so if you cannot make it, that is completely fine."
My mother and I weren't on the best terms lately. After finding out she had basically lied to me about my father, I hadn't talked to her since. I knew I should have, I had meant to, but with exams coming up, I barely had time. But that was no excuse. A phone call didn't take more than five minutes.
A wave of guilt flooded my thoughts. I had never spent a Christmas without my mother. She was always there with Mark, sitting at the table or perched on the kitchen counter with takeout.
We never went out for Christmas. Not because we couldn't afford it, but because we always preferred to spend it at our house, together.
As if she had read my thoughts, Barbara added, "We'll be spending it here, at the house. Gabriel misses you; we all do. But if you can't make it, we will understand. There is no pressure. We just wanted to invite you in case you might be able to come."
"Thank you for thinking of me, Barbara. I would love to come, but I think I'll spend it with my mom this year. Maybe we can have dinner some other time?" I hated saying no. I hated saying no to Gabriel. I felt even more guilty than I did before.
Barbara reassured me that it was okay and quickly ended the call. I slipped my phone onto the desk and rubbed a hand over my face, sighing heavily.
"Are you alright?" Aiden appeared at my side.
"Yeah." I perked up and mustered a smile.
"Don't do that. Don't smile because you have to. Tell me what happened." He crouched in front of me, looking up.
I fiddled with my hands over my lap. "Barbara, my stepmother, asked me to come over for dinner on Christmas."
Aiden's eyebrows narrowed. "Isn't that a good thing?"
"No," I shake my head. "I said I couldn't go."
"Why?"
"I usually spend my Christmas with my mother. I haven't missed a single one...."
"Do you want to spend Christmas with your mother this year?" He stood up and guided us over to the bed, where he pulled me into his lap.
"I don't know," I said. "I mean, she lied to me about my father. She needed help with money, and she didn't tell me... I just, I don't know." Aiden didn't say anything for a moment as his thumb drew small circles on my back. "God, I'm sorry." I covered my face with my hands. "I know you don't like talking about family. I don't want to put all my problems on you."
Aiden's hands slowly pulled mine away from my face. His smile was small, but it was there, sweet and comforting. "I like that you talk to me about your problems. I may not want to talk about my family, but I like hearing about yours. I want to know everything about you, the good and the bad. So don't apologise for doing it. Don't apologise to me."
I leaned into his chest slowly, unsure if it was okay to get so close. My face rested against the crook of his neck, my hands still on my lap. Aiden did not move. He sat there, still drawing circles on my back.
"What do you want?" He asked me, voice gentle against my hair.
"I want to spend Christmas with my brother, talking to him about monster trucks or books or whatever he's interested in." I inhaled Aiden's fragrant cologne. "But I also want to spend Christmas with you, Aiden."
Aiden's hand stilled on my back. Did I say something wrong? Oh, no.
He pulled me back by the shoulders, his expression unreadable. "You want to spend the holiday with me?"
I slowly nodded. "Yeah."
"Why?"
A laugh bubbled in my throat, but I bit it back. "Why wouldn't I?"
"No one has ever spent Christmas with me other than... well, my father."
My heart stopped for a single, silent moment. This was the first time he ever mentioned his father. The first time he ever said anything about him. I desperately wanted to ask what his Christmases were like with his father and family, but I knew he did not want me to ask about it. If he wanted to, he would do it on his own.
"Do you really want to spend it with me?" he asked, his eyes carefully watching me.
"I want to spend it with you, Aiden Blackwood," I said.
A smile twitched at his lips, but he did not let it break through. "I want to spend it with you too, Emmeline Adams."
A laugh spilled from my mouth. "I don't think you've ever called me that before. I didn't even know you knew my full name."
"What, Emmeline?" He dipped his chin. "I knew."
"Who told you?" I teased. "William?"
"Maybe." He shrugged.
My mouth gaped. "First sandwiches, now my name. What else have you asked about me?"
"To William?"
"Is there anyone else?"
He shrugged again. "No?"
I shifted on his lap. "Oh my god. Who else have you talked to?"
He studied me before answering as if he wasn't sure whether to answer me on not. "Do you remember when I had that panic attack at the library?" I nodded, and he continued, "Well, I don't know if you noticed, but I was in the astrology section."
"I did notice. I hadn't pegged you for an astrology major."
He smiled then. "I was there because of you." He said plainly.
"Me? Why?"
"I asked Myra to ask you what your perfect date would be. You said the stars. So, I went to the library to learn the basics about stars to maybe show off or impress you when I asked you out on a date, but then... you know."
I blinked once, twice, thrice, endlessly. All the words I had learnt the past twenty years of my life had suddenly been forgotten.
"I didn't expect you or anyone to show up," He admitted. "But I'm glad you did. We got to see the stars anyway."
I didn't know whether to cry or annihilate his condition and just hug him. "You were going to ask me out?"
His hand reached up behind his neck and rubbed the stressed area. "When you kissed me for the first time outside that bar, I felt relieved. I don't know why you did it, but when you said you wanted to pretend it didn't happen, it only reminded me that I couldn't have something as good as you." He looked down at where I fidgeted on my lap. "I didn't want you to regret our kiss. I wanted to find a way to prove to you that person isn't who I am, no matter how long it took. But when I stood in that library, looking at astrology books, I thought about how I treated you and the things I'd said. I felt so disgusted with myself that it ate me up until I was on the floor with a panic attack. Every time I looked at you, I was reminded of every bad thing I did. I hated how we'd met. I hated how I treated you with every encounter that followed when you had only been kind to me. I hated that I threw your relationship with your father into that fucking drinking game, and I hated that I mentioned that janitor. But most of all, I hated myself because I was afraid to get close to you, that I hurt you instead. I hurt you effortlessly, and you still held me as I cried in that library like I'd done nothing wrong in the world."
By the time he finished speaking, tears were sitting at the corners of my eyes, stinging there with a strong urge to fall.
Damn him and his hugging rule, I thought.
"Aiden..." I whispered out, his eyes dragged up to meet me. I cupped his face in my hands as my vision of him blurred. I could not contain the tightness in my chest all the times I looked at him. I could not ignore the way my heart jumped out of my chest at the sight of him at my door with coffee despite having long days himself. I could not fight the emptiness I felt when he left all those times afterwards. But I could face one simple fact.
"I love you."