Some Things You Can't Control

25: Admission

Chapter 25

Admission

- EDEN GARCIA -

Holy shit.

Holy shit.

I got an A.

I actually got an A.

We did it.

I couldn't wait to tell Dylan that maybe I wasn't a complete waste of his time.

And, best of all, lunch was next — I had to find him.

"Hey, I got a C!" pipes up the guy in my class who, yesterday, had forgotten we even had a test.

Apparently, he didn't go terribly after all. Good for him.

"Well done, everyone," Mrs Davis finishes saying, "have a great lunch. Eden, would you stay behind for a minute?"

Ugh, I'd been hoping to slip out unnoticed the second I could. Apparently my teacher had other ideas. Fantastic.

So, as everyone else files out of the classroom to enjoy their short break of freedom, I weave through the maze of desks until I'm standing face-to-face with my teacher.

She grins at me, practically beaming.

I don't know what I had expected, but this certainly hadn't been it.

"Eden, I just wanted to congratulate you on your mark for the test."

"Thanks, Mrs Davis," I reply politely.

After all, this woman alone has the power to ultimately make me fail or pass this class. I need to be on her good side.

"I take it Dylan was happy to help?"

I smile, genuinely this time. "Yeah, he's been great."

"Good. I'll have to put in a word for him to get extra credit. I know how much you dislike this class-" she does?? "- and how reluctant you were to resume tutoring, but I'm proud of you. Well done."

She smiles at me and gestures toward the door, releasing me — for now.

I don't hesitate. After bidding her goodbye for today, I'm out of that classroom almost quicker than I can blink.

To find my ex.

The corridors are flooded with students eager to get to lunch on their Friday afternoon, more boisterous than normal. Only a few more hours to go, and it would be the weekend.

And, with that, my mini road-trip to Sampson. I couldn't wait.

Since things between Dylan and I had ended so sourly with our breakup, and we'd essentially blocked each other out of our lives. I was kind of regretting it now because I had no idea where to start looking for him.

What did Dylan do with his spare time these days? Where does he eat lunch?

Suddenly, I have so many questions.

The only place I could think to start was the cafeteria. I'd seen Dylan in there often at lunchtimes this past week when we hadn't met up to study in the library. Sometimes we quickly spoke, other times we just smiled at each other across the room.

He wasn't always there, but I'd just have to hope he would be today.

I keep weaving my way through the throng of students, dodging stray elbows and ducking around large groups taking up most of the hallway. When I finally get to the cafeteria, I push the double doors open and instantly start scanning the room for a certain tall, green-eyed boy.