Page 80 of The Story Of Us

But another smaller part of me knows how much effort I put into studying for it, and I want a good enough score just so that I can feel validated. It’s a double-edged sword, and as I sit with the email open in front of me notifying me that there’s been a change to my application, I force myself to think about what’s become the main reason I’m not going to Oxford.

Before we broke up, I told Violet that she wasn’t the main reason I had changed my plans, but now that we’re back together, it’s hard to deny the fact that she is. I wasn’t lying when I told her I’m not going anywhere without her. I wish she was here right now, but she had plans with Avery and I don’t want to make Violet have to choose between me and her friend.

I hover over the link for a few more moments before I click on it, and then the result is there. My eyes widen as I read and reread the screen.

I scored high enough to match my offer.

I could go on the website right now, decline all the other universities, and be safe with choosing Oxford as my firm choice. I shake my head, getting rid of the thought and wondering why it even popped into my head in the first place. Even though I did everything I could to achieve this outcome, it doesn’t matter because I’m not going.

My phone rings, and it’s as if my parents have an uncanny sixth sense for detecting when I’m on the verge of a breakdown and want to further it. I let it ring for a few seconds before answering.

“Did your results come through?”

No ‘hello, how are you’, just straight to business.

“They did.” I keep my replies short, not giving them any hint of emotion as I try to keep my voice steady to prepare for what I’m about to do. “I didn’t score high enough.”

The lie comes out easily, and I wish I could say I regret it when I hear my parents gasp and start speaking in hushed whispers to each other, but I don’t.

“This isn’t something to joke about, Isaac. What was your score?”

I make up a number that’s low enough not to be considered a pass but high enough not to be suspicious. They saw me studying for it all summer so it would be unrealistic for me to say that I completely failed it. More hushed whispers as I clench the phone in my hand, and I want to press my palm to my eye but I stop myself. I hear shuffling sounds and then my mum’s voice comes through the phone.

“It’s okay. We’ll make some phone calls to the university, and I’m sure they’ll overlook it when they see your other grades. We’ll just tell them that you were sick that day, and that’s why you didn’t perform to the best of your abilities.”

They’re relentless, and I realise there’s no way out of this except with the truth.

“I was lying. I didn’t fail. But I don’t want to go to Oxford next year.”

The other side of the line is quiet, and my heart feels like it’s about to beat out of my chest as I wait for them to say something.

“I thought you were over this.” My dad’s tone is harsh, and I’m glad I can’t see the anger on his face. “That’s enough of these silly games now. You are going to Oxford in September.”

My heart beats faster and my grip tightens on the phone as I listen to him. I want so badly to fight back, but every time I speak to him, it’s like my energy gets drained completely, so I make up another lie.

“I was thinking of taking a gap year. I want to take a break before I commit to studying for the next however many years.”

A deep sigh from my dad and a shaky exhale from me.

“We’ll talk about this when you come home. This isn’t a conversation to have over the phone.”

I nod my head even though he can’t see, but getting words out feels like an impossible task right now.

He hangs up the phone, and I drop it to the desk before sitting back in my chair, taking my glasses off so I can press the heels of my hand into my eyes. Violet hates this habit, and as soon as she comes to mind, I want to see her. I pick up my phone and call her; she answers on the second ring.

“Are you still with Avery?”

“She just left.”

“Can I come to your room?”

“Yeah, of course. What’s wrong?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll explain, but I just need to see you.”

“Okay, I’ll leave my door open.”

I thank her before hanging up, and then I’m pulling on a hoodie and shoes and half jogging to her room. My head is all over the place, but I know if I just see her, be with her, then it’ll calm me.

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