"There's actually no point in studying anymore. I mean, colleges don't look at midterms, right?" Sofia asks for the fourth time in the last hour.
"No one's making you stay here," I say, scrolling through pictures and practicing the movements for sign language.
This morning Mindy, C.J, Sofia, Marcus and I had all decided to go to the town library to study for midterms together after school. So far everyone's cracked open a book, laptop or at least taken out some flashcards, but all Sofia has done is taken out her phone and complain about having to study for classes.
"But I need to study," she says, completely contradicting what she said maybe thirty seconds before.
"Then bitch, study," C.J says. He turns away from her to roll his eyes at Mindy, who softly elbows him to knock it off in front of her.
"Amanda can you help me?" Marcus asks. I take a break from sign language to look at the practice problems for calculus.
"I still don't understand derivatives. I just, how, what is happening? I tried to do this problems and I am so off," he rambles as I take a look at his work compared to the teacher's.
"You didn't do the derivative wrong, you just subtracted instead of added there." I point to the spot in the middle of the problem.
"I still don't know how I got the right answer, though," he puts his head in his hands.
"What, you just guessed the right answers?" He can't not know what he's doing and still be doing it, right?
"Kinda? I'm doing the steps I guess, but I don't get it at all," he says and I am so close to walking out of the library and back to my house. I could never be a teacher, never in a million years for a million dollars.
"Dude if you don't understand this then you're not only fucked for this test, you're fucked for the entire year," C.J chuckles, and this time Mindy elbows him harder. He winces and rubs his arm, but when she gives him a look he drops the face and kisses her head.
Honestly I never thought they'd be good together, but not only are they hella cute, C.J is also really good for Mindy and visa versa.
"You think I don't know that? I never thought anything would be harder than pre-calculus, but then calculus happened. I thought you were supposed to be good with at least one of them, but I guess not me!" I drops his head to the table and groans loudly.
"Shh, we're in a library," I scold, but it only makes him groan again, but at least this time he muffles his sounds with his sweatshirt.
"Let him drown in his misery, it'll be over soon," Sofia says finally opening her textbook.
"I won't be okay until high school has ended," he announces to the table. He lifts his head up and fixes his hair to the best of his ability without a mirror.
"Do you think if I fail the class but get a good score on the AP test that I'll be alright?" Marcus asks.
"I never really thought of that," Sofia says, tilting her head, thinking about it hard.
"Don't do that, and I don't think you'll be fine if you fail calculus. Besides, if you're failing a class they hold you from sports," I remind him. I remember when my dad told me at one point that fact was the only thing that kept him motivated to do schoolwork.
"It's alright, I don't really like baseball that much anyway," he says, but I glare at him, challenging him to continue with the joke, or what better be a joke.
"I'm kidding, yikes, hold your horses there," he holds his hands up in surrender.
"That's what I thought," I say, going back to my own work. I shouldn't have agreed to a group study session. Whenever I do anything with anyone, work is the last thing that will ever get done.
"Have you heard anything from UMichigan yet?" C.J asks.
"Um yeah." I look down at the table and pick at the skin surrounding my thumb. "I got put on the waitlist. They said they'd let me know by April 30 if I got in."
I knew it was a long shot that I got accepted, and I even prepared myself mentally before applying and right before I opened the letter. But it still stung when I read the letter, and I still cried for maybe a solid hour after receiving the news. To say it was heartbreaking would be an understatement. But I'll get over it, maybe. I guess I have to at some point.
"Oh, I didn't know that, I'm sorry." I smile sadly and get back to work. I found out weeks ago in December, but the thing is, I didn't tell anyone out of embarrassment. Hearing everyone talk about which schools they're being accepted to and not getting into the school of my dreams is hard on me, harder than I ever thought.
"It's fine. I mean, I got into a few others so it's not that big of a deal," I play it off with the best smile I could pull off, but there's nothing about this situation that makes me happy.
*******************
"Why didn't you tell me?" Marcus asks. We're finally leaving the library hours later from that conversation. Can't imagine how long he's been holding back that question.
"Who likes to talk about failures?" I respond. "Not exactly something I would proudly share with anyone."
"They didn't reject you," he says.
"They didn't accept me either. Besides, who knows how many other people are on the waitlist in front of me?" I tilt my head up to keep the tears from flowing. God am I this pathetic?
"I did everything I thought would be enough, and it just wasn't. I knew Michigan was the school I wanted to go to ever since I toured it the summer before junior year. It was all I worked for, but it feels like it was all for nothing. I didn't get in."
I sniffle, allowing the tears to fall. There's no use in hiding them, from keeping them in. Marcus pulls over to the side of the road and gets out from the drivers seat and comes around the car. Opening the door to the passenger's side he hugs me while unbuckling my seatbelt.
"Don't say it was all for nothing. Besides, I'm sure you'll find everything you want in another school," he reassures me.
I keep crying, doing the sniffle-choke thing to be quiet and to calm myself down. Marcus doesn't speak anymore, but keeps hugging me, stroking my back and shushing me soothingly. I squish my face int his chest and hug him tighter, feeling more calm and comforted in his warm embrace.
"You feel better?" he whispers as my breathing begins to regulate back to normal.
"I guess," I answer. Obviously the situation hasn't changed, but my emotions feel a lot more composed.
"You guess?" He leans down and presses his cold lips to mine, taking me in for a breathtaking kiss. He moves his hands through my hair and traces along my jaw to the base of my neck and finally landing his palm at the nape of my neck.
I grip his jacket and rest my hand on his cheek which is just as cold as his lips are, but I couldn't care.
He pulls back from me and I fight the urge to lean towards him again.
"What about now?" he asks once more and I nod brainlessly.
He chuckles and gives me another light peck before seating me back into place and getting back into the car.
When he sits down he rubs his hands together and blows into them before starting the car up. It's only then I realize how cold he must have been standing outside the car for all that time.
"Are you alright? Do you need my gloves?" I ask, feeling bad.
He shakes his head and takes ahold of the steering wheel. "No I'm fine."
The rest of the drive is silent, but thankfully tension isn't in the atmosphere. It's actually quite relaxing, especially when he takes one hand from the wheel to hold my hand. For all I know it may have been to keep his hand warm but I've decided I like to think he wants to continue to make me feel better.
He parks at the front door of my house and I begin to get out when Marcus grabs me by the sleeve of my puffy coat.
"Where's my goodbye kiss?" he asks, cheekily.
I smirk and lean over the console to give him a sound kiss before pulling away. I laugh at his blissed out face, his eyes still closed from the kiss.
He opens his eyes after a few seconds and gives me that damn smile of his. Even though it's nearly 20 degrees outside, my insides melt to goo.
"I'll see you tomorrow. I love you, Manda," he says.
"Goodnight Marcus," I reply and hop out of the car before I do something silly like profess the love for him I don't think I have yet.