Page 10 of One Day

I can feel the energy in the room shift. This is huge. It’s a small part in a much bigger picture, something shiny for the winning student to add to their portfolio.

When the project brief reaches me, my eyes immediately dart to the top of the page as I pass the rest of the stack off to the row behind me. Ideas are already brewing in the corners of my brain, the stir of competition igniting the flames in my belly. I want this, and I’m ready to work my ass off to get it.

Professor Andrews clears her throat at the front of the room, drawing everyone’s attention back. “I know this is a lot to take in. It is a massive opportunity for all of you, and I have full faith you’re up for the task. As I mentioned, we are working with the hockey team. I want you to use the players to your advantage, not only for the profiles but for the app proposal in general. They know the sport better than anyone. They are fans of the sport. They’ll know what is useful and what’s not going to land. I’m going to let you all go now, let you stew over this, and I look forward to seeing what you come up with. If you have any questions, please do not hesitate to reach out to me. My email and office hours are at the top of the sheet.”

With the clap of her hands, we all start to pack up. I stand, bag slung over my shoulder, when she clears her throat again. A few heads turn her way, but it’s only when our eyes meet that she lifts her hands and waves me forward, silently asking me to hang back.

The muscles in my shoulders tighten as I step to the side, allowing everyone in my row to pass. This is what I was hoping wouldn’t happen. The last thing I wanted was to start off on her bad side and it seems that’s exactly what I did.

“Your name?” she asks when I reach the bottom step of the lecture hall, and the last of the students filter out. Her hair is cut off just below her ears in a French bob, a slight wave to the golden strands. She’s younger than almost any other professor I’ve had. An accomplishment in itself that at only thirty-two, she’s built herself a name. One that has earned her more than just the respect of her peers, but admiration.

“Sonya Cartelli,” I say, standing a little taller when she steps out from behind the podium.

“Sonya,” she says, like she’s testing my name out. “You were late.”

“I know.” I squeeze my fingertips in, pressing them into the palm of my hand. “It’s a long story,” I start, ready to explain the reason for my tardiness, but pause when I see the corner of her eyebrow raise. “Actually,” I say, steeling my breath. “I’m not going to give you an excuse. I should have been on time. I’m sorry I wasn’t. It won’t happen again.”

She nods her head while packing up her own bag. “I’m glad to hear it. I remember you from last year. You attended my guest seminar.”

Pride fills my chest knowing I made a lasting impression on her. “I was,” I tell her, loosening my grip. "I was really excited to hear you were joining the department this year. I feel like I can learn a lot from you.”

“I’m glad. You’re bright, Sonya. You had a lot of great questions, and I can tell you’re passionate about tech. I’m looking forward to seeing what you come up with for your prototype, but I want to warn you, it’s not an easy industry to be in. Not for anyone, but especially not for a woman. It’s not fair, but you already have obstacles in front of you for simply being that. Don’t give them any other reason to bring you down, especially something as stupid as tardiness.”

I nod my head, feeling the weight of her advice as it sinks in. When I decided this was the program I wanted to apply for, my advisor had tried to deter me. He said I could do something easier, something without so many ups and downs, but a little hard work has never scared me. Not then, and not now.

“I won’t,” I say, determination coating my bones. “I promise.”

CHAPTER FIVE

WALKER

“Thank you,” I say, grabbing the paper cup from the edge of the counter before returning to my table in the corner of the overly crowded coffee shop on campus. The exposed ceilings carry the buzz of people waiting for their next fix, and I don’t think I’d have it any other way. The loud noise and the smell of freshly ground coffee beans in the air keep me coming back and fueling the coffee addiction I don’t care to kick.

Flynn likes to joke that I have more coffee in my veins than blood with the amount I consume daily, and she’s not entirely wrong. If I plan to have an acceptance letter from the law school of my choosing this time next year—I need caffeine.

“That desperate for a fix, huh?” Reid asks, sliding into the seat across me with a coffee of his own in his hands. He clearly saw me walk up to the pick-up counter to get a refill, and since the baristas here know me, they let it go. I should probably care about the glares I get in doing so, but I can’t be bothered. Not where coffee is concerned.

“What can I say? This paper isn’t going to write itself.” I gesture to my laptop in front of me, picking my cup up to take a sip.

Reid just shakes his head at me. “I take it the lawyer thing is going well then?”

“It’s going,” I say, running my fingers into the dark strands of hair that have fallen into my eyes. “How’s the teacher thing?” I ask, knowing he’s working his ass off to be the best in his program. Just as eager as me to have the academic stamp of approval, and likely why Sonya introduced me to him first. Knowing we had the most in common.

“Same old, same old,” he says, leaning back in his seat with a tight smile. “Haven’t done much of the teaching part yet. Still have a way to go.”

“Won’t be too long,” I say, my eyes moving to my laptop when he lifts his arm to check the time on his watch, and without meaning to, my thoughts drift back to what Sonya asked me in Adam’s less than twenty-four hours ago. Truthfully, it’s all I’ve been able to think about.

I’ve played the conversation over and over in my head, wondering how different these hours could have been if I had said yes and if she’s been doing the same. She said we’re fine, and I want to believe her, but part of me worries we aren’t. That I set us down a path, maybe not one we’ll notice right away, but a hairline fracture. Something that will grow over time.

“How’s Sonya?” I ask, the tight knot in my stomach forcing my hand. “Is she okay?”

Reid raises an eyebrow at me, reaching for his coffee on the table. “I haven’t seen her today, but she was fine when she came home last night. Why wouldn’t she be?”

Nerves I didn’t know I was feeling untangle instantly as I shake my head, hugging my coffee between my hands to keep busy. “No, she would be. She is. I was just…checking.”

He doesn’t seem to buy what I’m saying, not even for a second, but before he can question it, the door to the coffee shop bangs open and earns our attention. My lips tug up when I see Sonya and her wild head of curls as her eyes bounce around the crowded room. She’s oblivious to the fact that her entrance has caused the big Roast House sign hanging from the ceiling above the counter to shake and continues to let her eyes roam. Her face lights up when her eyes land on me, and the worry hardening in my chest, thinking I ruined something between us, softens.

“Hey, Sunny,” Reid greets her first when she makes her way over. “Everything okay?” he asks, eyes darting to me, almost like he’s searching for something he won’t find before going back to Sonya.

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