The Color of a Promise (The Color of Heaven Series Book 11) by Julianne MacLean Page B
Authors: Julianne MacLean
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study when you get back to your room? Make some coffee.”
Of course I knew that such a suggestion was hopeless. He was far too drunk to retain any information, much less stay awake. He’d probably pass out the minute he fell onto his bed, if he even made it up the stairs.
It didn’t matter. Failing exams was his problem. I just wanted him to leave.
Thank God, he did—but only after I let him kiss me good-bye in the hall.
As soon as I shut the door behind him, I used my sleeve to wipe his drunken kiss from my mouth, and picked my lamp up off the floor. I flicked the switch to make sure it still worked. Then I sat down on my bed for a long moment and rested my forehead on the heels of my hands, working hard to quell the anxiety that had risen in me during that encounter.
Finally, I got up and decided to pour another cup of coffee to make up for lost time.
I stayed up all night studying, catching only a few hours of sleep between 6 and 9 a.m. Then I left my room and found a quiet corner in the library to study all day—in a place where no one would find me.
Chapter Thirteen
Kyle texted me that afternoon and asked: Are we good?
Seated at a table in the library, I covered my face with both hands and shook my head. No, we weren’t good, but I couldn’t deal with him in that moment. I still had a lot of material left to cover, and I didn’t want to mess up his game when he needed to be studying, too, so I quickly typed a reply: Yes, we’re good. I am studying the fundamentals of fluid power. You?
He immediately replied: Boring economics stuff.
I didn’t know what to say after that, but I knew it had to be something that would end the conversation, because I didn’t want my phone to continue buzzing every five minutes that day.
Good luck! I texted . Study hard!
He replied with a smiling face icon, and I set my phone down on the table.
The rest of the day passed with no more texts from Kyle, nor did he show up at my door in another drunken stupor that night. I was relieved. And I hoped, for his own sake, that he was getting his act together and focusing on the books.
Just after I shut off the light in my room at 2:00 a.m., he sent me another text.
Good luck in the morning. I know you’ll do great.
I decided not to reply. As far as Kyle knew, I was already asleep.
Shutting off my phone, I set it on the floor and pulled the covers up to my ears.
When I woke the following morning, I had only one thing on my mind—one single, vital goal: to write my exam and show my prof that I did deserve a place in his class, and that I was a strong enough candidate to be considered for the master’s program.
Because when it came to mechanical engineering, I couldn’t seem to get enough. I wanted to know everything there was to know about the field and reclaim my place at the top of my class.
As difficult as it had been lately, at least lessons were learned. It was time for me to focus on my future and stop trying to be something I was not.
I knew my purpose now.
And there was no place in my life for Kyle.
o0o
Unfortunately, Kyle didn’t see it that way.
On the day I wrote my last exam, Kyle also wrote his. We both finished at noon, and he wasted no time before texting me from the frat house.
How’d you do?
A terrible feeling of dread washed over me because I knew I would have to break up with him all over again, after lying to him for the past week. I felt badly about that—honestly I did. It brought me no pleasure to hurt him, but I also believed I had done the right thing by helping him to stay focused on school and encouraging him to study for his exams. Heaven knew where he might be right now if I’d insisted on a clean break the night he came to my room. He might still be drunk.
I texted him back. It was rough. How about you?
It was okay. Glad to be done. Time to celebrate. Want to meet me for lunch at the pub?
I took a deep breath and thought about it for a few seconds, and couldn’t see any way
Of course I knew that such a suggestion was hopeless. He was far too drunk to retain any information, much less stay awake. He’d probably pass out the minute he fell onto his bed, if he even made it up the stairs.
It didn’t matter. Failing exams was his problem. I just wanted him to leave.
Thank God, he did—but only after I let him kiss me good-bye in the hall.
As soon as I shut the door behind him, I used my sleeve to wipe his drunken kiss from my mouth, and picked my lamp up off the floor. I flicked the switch to make sure it still worked. Then I sat down on my bed for a long moment and rested my forehead on the heels of my hands, working hard to quell the anxiety that had risen in me during that encounter.
Finally, I got up and decided to pour another cup of coffee to make up for lost time.
I stayed up all night studying, catching only a few hours of sleep between 6 and 9 a.m. Then I left my room and found a quiet corner in the library to study all day—in a place where no one would find me.
Chapter Thirteen
Kyle texted me that afternoon and asked: Are we good?
Seated at a table in the library, I covered my face with both hands and shook my head. No, we weren’t good, but I couldn’t deal with him in that moment. I still had a lot of material left to cover, and I didn’t want to mess up his game when he needed to be studying, too, so I quickly typed a reply: Yes, we’re good. I am studying the fundamentals of fluid power. You?
He immediately replied: Boring economics stuff.
I didn’t know what to say after that, but I knew it had to be something that would end the conversation, because I didn’t want my phone to continue buzzing every five minutes that day.
Good luck! I texted . Study hard!
He replied with a smiling face icon, and I set my phone down on the table.
The rest of the day passed with no more texts from Kyle, nor did he show up at my door in another drunken stupor that night. I was relieved. And I hoped, for his own sake, that he was getting his act together and focusing on the books.
Just after I shut off the light in my room at 2:00 a.m., he sent me another text.
Good luck in the morning. I know you’ll do great.
I decided not to reply. As far as Kyle knew, I was already asleep.
Shutting off my phone, I set it on the floor and pulled the covers up to my ears.
When I woke the following morning, I had only one thing on my mind—one single, vital goal: to write my exam and show my prof that I did deserve a place in his class, and that I was a strong enough candidate to be considered for the master’s program.
Because when it came to mechanical engineering, I couldn’t seem to get enough. I wanted to know everything there was to know about the field and reclaim my place at the top of my class.
As difficult as it had been lately, at least lessons were learned. It was time for me to focus on my future and stop trying to be something I was not.
I knew my purpose now.
And there was no place in my life for Kyle.
o0o
Unfortunately, Kyle didn’t see it that way.
On the day I wrote my last exam, Kyle also wrote his. We both finished at noon, and he wasted no time before texting me from the frat house.
How’d you do?
A terrible feeling of dread washed over me because I knew I would have to break up with him all over again, after lying to him for the past week. I felt badly about that—honestly I did. It brought me no pleasure to hurt him, but I also believed I had done the right thing by helping him to stay focused on school and encouraging him to study for his exams. Heaven knew where he might be right now if I’d insisted on a clean break the night he came to my room. He might still be drunk.
I texted him back. It was rough. How about you?
It was okay. Glad to be done. Time to celebrate. Want to meet me for lunch at the pub?
I took a deep breath and thought about it for a few seconds, and couldn’t see any way
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