Page 30 of The Two Halves of My Heart

Two weeks later, I’d moved into halls less than an hour from home. The course was the same, and I would be able to complete the degree without going mad this way. I didn’t tell my parents. I had all the paperwork and transfers arranged, and so I didn’t see the need. But I’d be able to go home regularly. I’d be able to see Grace. And I didn’t give a damn about if that made me a pathetic loser or not.

There were three girls in my stats class. Two were classic geek girls, all the way to the square glasses they wore. But one of them seemed cool. Fresher’s ‘week’ was still going strong when I’d transferred, and I’d seen her in my halls of residence on another floor.

Part of me was desperate to find someone that could make me forget about Grace. Fall out of love with her and fix my miserable heart. But there was another part, the part I worried about, that convinced me we were destined to be together since the day I’d brought home Bob for her.

So, I left it to fate. Grace and I weren’t together, so if something were to happen with anyone at Uni, then great. Nobody hurt. I hoped.

Every day I said the same mantra to myself, convincing myself that I was making the right decision. I’d taken the first few steps away and although it hurt when I woke up in the morning—I missed Grace and even Mads like crazy, despite our growing hatred—life went on.

I waited a month before I went home. It was getting harder and harder not to admit to Grace what I’d done, and the need to go back to surprise her had grown unbearable. But I needed to give myself time as well.

I made sure I left after lectures on Friday with the hope that we’d have the weekend together.

It was after eight before I arrived at Mum and Dad’s, but that wasn’t late, and there was no way I could sleep knowing she was just a few houses away.

Busy tonight?

No. It’s Friday. Why would you think I would be busy? Come on, Oliver, have you forgotten everything about me already?

Look out of your window.

That’s stupid.

Just do it, Grace.

I waited until her curtains twitched and waved up at her as she looked down through the shadows to me. Even from this distance, I saw her face light up like it was Christmas morning. And wasn’t that a jolt to the ego.

She flung open the door and launched into my arms. All I could do was wrap her up and pull her close to me. I breathed in her scent of sunshine and strawberries, despite it being November, and imagined that everything in the future would be as good as this moment felt.

The weekend together fit around Grace’s part-time job as a waitress in the local pub. The fact that Mads now worked in the kitchen with her wasn’t unexpected. Hell, he’s never let her do anything on her own. But despite that, I knew I made the right decision. I wasn’t ready for Grace to be out of my life. Not by a long shot, and perhaps I never would be.

My first year of University passed in a blur of mathematical equations and visits home. My original plan to move on was still at the back of my mind, and I’d made some good friends from my course. Sam and Jack kept me sociable, and it was amazing what a little space and confidence did for me. I’d always been shy—happy to hang back, wait, and assess the situation before jumping in, and that was still me, but now I pulled it off without looking like a loner.

The cool girl from stats class had also joined our group. Amy was one of the smartest people I knew. She could do math in her head like she was a scientific calculator. We even made it into a drinking game. If she could do the calculation faster in her head than the opponent on a calculator, they took the shot. She got a lot of free drinks and showed up a fair number of guys.

But no matter how hard I tried to think of her as the sexy girl she was, my mind couldn’t get over the fact she wasn’t Grace.

“Amy, come on now, you might be winning, but we’re downing tequila here like we don’t want to see tomorrow.”

“Olly, don’t kill the mood,” Sam complained, tipping the latest shot down his throat.

We’d been at the bar all night, and if I had to drink anymore, I’d throw up and pass out. Or both. “We should walk back now while we can still stand.”

“Jack?”

We looked around the bar, but Jack was playing tonsil tennis with a girl in a booth. I sent him a quick text—or at least I hoped it was to him—and dragged Amy and Sam with me. We couldn’t drink anymore. My mouth felt like dry carpet, and my lips still tasted of salt and lime.

The fresh air sent Amy reeling, and Sam and I had to stand either side of her to keep her vertical. Winning at her little math trick had its good parts. But, when we decided to drink, it turned out we couldn’t hold our spirits all that well.

We dropped Sam off with instructions to down a pint of water before passing out. Like hell—he’d face plant the bed and regret it in the morning.

And then I left Amy at the door to her floor.

“Who’s going to make sure you get home safely?” she asked as I waited in the stairwell.

“I’m fine. It’s only a few flights up.”

“Text me?”

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