Page 52 of The Story Of Us

“All of it.” She huffs out a laugh, but I don’t feel like there’s anything funny about what just happened. “So you’re applying then?” She asks, voice timid as if she hates to ask the question.

“I don’t have a choice. I’ve been trying to put it off for as long as possible, but it’s been a constant, looming thought in my mind. I think I made myself sick with the stress of it.”

I’m rambling now, but she was always the one who I could let everything out to without fear of judgment.

“I haven’t been eating or sleeping properly, day and night I just think about all the different ways I can avoid doing it. But none of them will work. I think the only time I’ve slept properly in the past few weeks is when you were here yesterday.”

The confession comes out unexpectedly, and I watch her face, waiting to see her reaction. The only thing I can see in her eyes is sadness.

“I didn’t know you were dealing with all of this.”

“How could you? I hid it all from you before, and I had no right to tell you now, either.”

I feel like I’m constantly regretting everything I say to her, and that’s no different now. I shouldn’t have dumped all of this on her when we’re still in the beginning stages of rebuilding our friendship.

“I wish you would have told me last year. About all of it.” She says quietly, her voice soft.

“Would it have made a difference?”

I don’t elaborate on the question, but what I’m really asking is, if you knew, would we still have started something?

I’m dreading her answer. The thought of her regretting the time we spent together feels like it could be the thing that completely pushes me over the edge. I don’t know if I’d ever recover from it.

“No, I think…” she pauses, and when I catch her eyes again, there’s a shine to them. “I think I would have just liked to be there for you.”

I hate that she thinks she wasn’t, that she might think she could have done more to help. My issue with my parents and my future is something I have to deal with myself. It wouldn’t have been fair to put that pressure on Violet when everything between us still felt new and delicate.

“You were, Violet,” I reassure her as she looks down at her hands folded together in her lap. When she turns the chair away from me, I get up from the bed and kneel on the floor in front of her. I reach for her hands. And this time, she doesn’t move away. “You have no idea how much you helped me without even realising.”

She gives me a weak smile, her chin quivering slightly, and I hate that I keep making her cry.

“I wish I could go back in time, tell you about everything when it was happening, but I can’t. So I’m saying as much as I can now. It doesn’t make up for what I did, but I hope it can help you to forgive me eventually.”

She nods her head, and I can’t even imagine what feelings she has towards me right now. I can only hope that they’re positive. I take her hands in mine as a sign that they are.

“Can I help you now, then?”

“With what?”

“Your application.”

“Violet…”

I lean back on my heels to try and see her face more clearly. She looks deadly serious.

“As your friend, I want to help you with doing something that’s hard for you.” I’ve never been so happy to hear the word friend from her lips. “Whether you go to Oxford or not isn’t up to me, but this is something we both know you have to do. So let me help you.”

“Are you sure?” I ask in disbelief. I don’t understand how she could want to help me when Oxford was part of the reason why we broke up.

“I wouldn’t offer if I wasn’t.” She stands, pulling me up with her, and then she moves to the side of me, our hands still joined. “Come on, let’s get it over with.”

She lets go of my hand, and I take the seat she’s just emptied, pulling my laptop forward. Violet stands right next to me, one hand on the back of the chair and one hand on the desk as she leans forward. I pull up my application, scanning through it a few more times before scrolling to the bottom of the page and staring at the ‘submit’ button.

One click, and I’m a step closer to the future that my parents want from me.

One click, and I’m a thousand steps further away from the future I planned with her.

Violet’s hand squeezing my shoulder brings me back to myself and gives me all the strength I need to finally press the button I’ve been avoiding for so long. I try not to think too much about what I’ve just set in motion, the inevitable emails about the rest of the process leading up to interviews and offers, and instead just focus on her hand on my shoulder. I lift my hand to cover hers, and neither of us says anything, both just staring at the ‘application successful’ notification covering the screen.

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