Between practice and class and studying, I only remembered to eat and sleep because Gyeong-Ja and Audra kept reminding me. I was up early every morning, either doing Coach Patel's favorite conditioning drills, or the agility exercises and penalty shots I'd once practiced with Theo. This time, though, I did them by myself. When I wasn't on the soccer pitch, I practically lived in the library, and I kept working even after curfew in my room, poring over textbooks and history references. When Mr. Harris kept me after class to discuss my tutoring absences, I didn't hold back.
"Maybe I'd still be going to tutoring if my tutor hadn't kissed me without my consent," I said, relishing the way Mr. Harris' eyebrows hopped in surprise.
"That is a very weighty accusation, Miss Morris-Whittaker. Mr. Ellerby is—"
"A rat bastard," I said matter-of-factly, "And there's no way I'll ever agree to be tutored by him again."
Mr. Harris studied me, then said, "Be that as it may, you need at least a B on your term paper to pass my class, and—"
"I'm well aware."
"And," he said, louder this time, to stop me from interrupting him again, "Based on today's quiz results and your heightened participation in class discussions, I'm willing to hold off on enforcing your tutoring if you promise to do the work."
"I already am." I hiked my backpack up. "And, respectfully, sir, if that's all you have to say, I should probably get back to it."
"Miss Morris-Whittaker," he called out when I was halfway through the door.
I caught myself on the frame and glanced back at him.
He held my gaze over his half-moon glasses. "I'll make sure your complaint is logged with the administration."
I couldn't make myself thank him. Not when it was the least he could do and the very least that William deserved. So I just nodded and made my way to the library. I took a winding route, bypassing anywhere that Theo might haunt. Especially after what had happened at dinner yesterday.
I don't know why it had taken me by surprise, but when Madeleine had sat down beside him and he'd draped an arm across the back of her chair, it had struck me like a punch to the gut. It's not like I didn't know that she and William had broken up, and it's not like I didn't know that Theo's goal this whole entire time had been to date her. But to see it, to see her sitting beside him the way I'd once sat beside him, to see her nestle up under his arm and nuzzle his neck had only ripped open the slowly healing wound in my heart.
But it would heal. I would make sure of it. I'd chosen to play with fire, I'd gotten burned, and this was the price I had to pay. Thankfully, the days were getting easier, now that all my free time was spent rallying my floundering grades and readying for the playoffs. But no matter how late I stayed up to study, the nights were a whole other story.
As much as I didn't want to, and as much as I knew it was causing more harm than good, I couldn't stop scrolling Theo's Instagram before I went to sleep. Hidden beneath my duvet, it was a brutal kind of torture to hold my breath and open his profile, dreading their first couple picture. After a week, it still hadn't dropped, which only prolonged my suffering. I mourned the squares I'd once occupied in his grid—grinning over cheeseburgers and cuddled up on the common room couches. They were gone now, and their absence haunted me just like the memories did. They resurfaced every time I tried to ignore Theo and Madeleine together, all wrapped up in one another as if the rest of the world didn't exist. As if everything between Theo and me hadn't even happened. Or as if it had, but he was trying to erase it.
But even though I wanted to forget him the way he'd so easily forgotten me, the universe had other plans. When we secured our spot in the finals in a brutal, nail-biter of a game, Coach Patel praised me for stopping the breakaway that would've tied up the game and sent us to penalty shots. I'd smiled, but my chest had hollowed out—the move was a technique that Theo had taught me.
When we got to Hamlet's famous soliloquy in Act 3, scene 1, Mrs. Wiltshire had me read for Ophelia opposite Theo's Hamlet. It was a special kind of torture—and apparently excellent entertainment for the likes of Connor Weatherington—to re-enact Hamlet and Ophelia's breakup. I'd left class, cheeks flaming and jaw set, with Connor's cruel laughter following me out.
Worse than all that, though, was that Theo hadn't so much as looked at me since that moment in the dining hall. It was pathetic of me to keep hoping he would. Just because I was still acutely aware of his presence didn't mean that he felt the same about mine. But I couldn't help it.
Even the night before my paper was due, when my eyes were burning from staring at my laptop for so long, I knew the moment he stood up from where he'd been studying with Connor at another of the common room tables. When he'd arrived, I'd meant to pack up and head to my room just to avoid him, but the words were flowing so effortlessly as I raced to finish my conclusion before the deadline that I hadn't wanted to break my stride. My productivity came to an abrupt halt, though, when Theo paused at the end of my table. I refused to look up and give him that satisfaction after he'd ignored me for so long, and I cursed my fingers for freezing over the keyboard. But at least my eyes behaved, remaining obediently glued to the screen until he finally left.
It was over, I told myself firmly, resisting the urge to watch him go. It didn't matter that it seemed like he had something to say. If he did, he could've responded to my texts. Or said something to me during any one of the times he'd avoided me in the hallways, when I wasn't already locked in to my work. Rubbing the fatigue from my eyes and checking my watch, I scrolled back to the beginning and started my final read-through before I had to head upstairs for curfew.
Like the fabulous roommate she was, Gyeong-Ja stayed up late to speed-read my final draft for typos, then held my hand when I hit send to submit it to Mr. Harris. Grades were due to be posted next Friday, the day before the boys' varsity final and two days before ours. Just enough time for the administration to pull me from the roster if I failed.
But I wouldn't. I couldn't. Not after I'd given it my everything. And if I still did fail, then maybe Kingsbridge wasn't for me after all. Maybe William and his mother and everyone else who kept reminding me that I was an outsider was actually right. Maybe I belonged somewhere with a less rigorous course load and cheaper tuition. Or maybe I needed to set less lofty goals altogether.
But I refused to surrender. Not yet. Not until I knew whether my all was enough or not.
After the email vanished into the ether, I collapsed into bed. With all my nights of fitful sleep and early mornings, I didn't even have the energy to brace myself and check Theo's Instagram. Instead, I let myself drift off into a sleep so deep I didn't even dream.
The next morning, I ripped out the half-Windsor knot in my tie and asked Gyeong-Ja to teach me how to tie it myself. It wasn't as perfect as Theo's, but at least it didn't remind me of him every time I got dressed for class.
It was over. And I needed to start being okay with that.
**A/N: Poor Ellie. But then again, good for her for learning to stand on her own. Though I am an absolute nightmare of a sentimental and I would've kept that tie knot forever haha.
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