𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐨𝐥𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 | ✓

52

⚠️ Warning: This chapter mentions suicide in the second half; if you think it's triggering for you, I suggest you skip this chapter, or maybe just the second half, that's up to you. Needless to say, the following chapters will be mentioning the act, but I won't be putting a warning at top of them.

∞ ∞ ∞

Friday comes too fast. I barely got two hours of sleep last night, but at least now I have the fifteen papers ready, just like Wright had asked. 

As I brush my hair in front of the mirror, I can't help but wonder how he sees me. Which of my features stand out the most for him? I wonder if he likes anything about my appearance. I shake my head and push away the thought, but heat rushes to my cheek nonetheless.

With a sharp inhale, I shove aside these thoughts and tie up my hair.

My phone buzzes and I glance at it, only to see it's a text from Mom saying her sister will be visiting her later today and if I'd like to drop by.

I groan and push my phone into my jeans' front pocket. I wonder what she wants from them. My aunt is by far, one of the most obnoxious living beings I've ever had to deal with. I already feel bad for Mason and Dad having to put up with today for a few hours.

With a huff, I walk out of my room. Coat in hand, I glance at Melody, sprawled over the sofa.

"I'll be back in a few hours," I inform her as I slip into my coat and sling my bag over my shoulder.

"Sure, and I'll be here, studying like a miserable college student."

I roll my eyes and laugh at her dramatic ass before stepping out of the house.

Soon, I reach the campus and hurry to the Maths' building. My heartbeat steadily rises as I climb up the stairs, and it has nothing to do with going up the stairs.

Near Wright's office room, I slow my pace to fix my hair and shirt, making sure the redness of my face from sprinting up the stairs has gone before I knock on his door.

"You're five minutes late," he says without looking up from his notebook as he writes something down.

I smile as I step inside, closing the door behind me. "It was traffic."

He pauses, drawing his eyebrows together before arching one and glancing at me from above the black frame of his glasses. "On the sidewalk?"

I shrug and plop down on the seat, dropping my bag next to my leg. "It's New York, you never what can happen and where you might get stuck in traffic."

A corner of his mouth twitches upwards. He shakes his head and puts the notebook aside and at last fixes his focus on me.

"You're in a fairly good mood," Wright notes.

I grin at him. "Maybe I am."

"How did the research go?" he asks and leans into his seat.

Bending down, I unzip my bag and pull out a purple binder and hand it to him. "Followed all your instructions. It was really hard, but I think I got a hang of it."

He begins flipping through the pages and I observe him closely. "You're not in a bad mood either," I point out after a long moment of silence.

He glances at me. "You're not going to drop my one bad day, are you?"

"I read the book you gave me."

This grabs his immediate attention. "And?"

Unable to contain my excitement, I break into babbling, "It's awesome! Not even ten pages into it and I already had a vague idea of what I should do. It gave a direction to everything! And the notes you'd written, made everything so much clearer. I began searching stuff up to dig even deeper into some of the topics. In fact, I talked about it with my dad yesterday and he loved my ideas, I think. I can't believe it; things are finally starting to get sorted out. Once I graduate, I'll put my entire focus and energy into it. This book might be the best thing I've ever got."