Page 5 of Seeds of Love
By the time the lecture ends, my head is spinning with thoughts and ideas. Dr. Reeves made some compelling arguments for big oil, I suppose. But no matter how logical he makes it sound, I’ll never support an industry that treats our planet like a disposable coffee cup.
As we file out of the hall, Tara turns to me, her eyes wide.
“I get major creep vibes from that guy,” she says, shivering. Her frilly pink top is a stark contrast to my funeral-chic hoodie.
She hooks her arm through mine like we’re old friends, not two strangers who met three hours ago. I stiffen for a second, then relax.
Human contact won’t kill me. Probably.
“Same,” I agree, my brain still reeling. “He spent more time contradicting himself than making sense. One minute it’s ‘save the planet,’ the next it’s ‘who wants to intern for Big Oil?’“
Tara nods vigorously, her curls bouncing. “Right? I’m this close to dropping the class and taking up underwater basket weaving instead.”
“Mood,” I mutter, surprising myself.
“Ooh, idea!” Tara’s eyes light up. “We could totally ditch his next class and get coffee instead. You know, for our mental well-being.”
I laugh. “Tempting. But I’m pretty sure ‘Serial Class Skipper’ isn’t the college legacy I’m aiming for.”
Tara pouts, and suddenly I’m aware of how effortlessly gorgeous she is. Her blonde hair is shiny and perfectly curled. She’s slim but with some nice curves. Meanwhile, I’m over here looking like a protractor with anxiety.
“Lunch?” Tara chirps, yanking me out of my pity party. “I’m free now if you are.”
I check my watch—11:55. “Yeah, I’m good until 2:00.”
“Perfect! My brother swears by this place called Sushi Palace. You in?”
I hesitate, then blurt out, “Are you sure you want to have lunch with me?”
Tara freezes. “Alexandria! Duh. That’s what friends do.”
Friends.
“Hey,” Tara says, her voice softening. “I get it. I used to be super shy too.”
I wince. Is my social ineptitude that obvious?
But then Tara grins. “Want to know my secret weapon?” She leans in close. “Confidence is like a muscle—fake it until it gets strong enough to be real. Trust me, one day you’ll realize you stopped pretending months ago.”
I feel my eyes fill up.Shit. Damn hormones. Can’t someone be nice to me without me wanting to cry?
“Now,” Tara says, linking our arms again, “let’s go demolish some sushi and plot world domination. Or at least figure out how to survive Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Oil Tycoon without losing our last brain cells.”
The University of Mountain Springs sprawled across the foothills like its own miniature city. Red brick buildings with solar panel roofs stretched in every direction, a deliberate blend of century-old architecture and cutting-edge sustainability. The Environmental Sciences building stood apart, its living wall of plants cascading down five stories of gleaming glass and recycled steel. Students lounged on the lawn between classes.
“Did you know UMS was one of the first universities to commit to carbon neutrality?” Tara asked as we walked. “My brochures wouldn’t shut up about it. Apparently, they generate forty percent of their own power through solar and wind.”
I nodded, already familiar with the stats. It was one of the reasons I’d chosen UMS—that and their strong connections to the legendary Global Sustainable Resources Institute program. Over 60% of the GSRI intakes were students from UMS. Something about their environmental science program being tough enough and with the right focus for the GSRI candidates.
Sushi Palace turnsout to be a hole-in-the-wall joint that looks like it was decorated by a drunk sailor with a penchant for origami. But the smell wafting out is enough to make my mouth water.
“Trust me,” Tara says, catching my skeptical look. “My brother Troy swears this place is better than anything he had in Japan.”
We slide into a cramped booth, our knees bumping under the table.
“So, this paragon of culinary wisdom,” I say, trying to channel my inner ‘fake it till you make it’ confidence, “what’s his deal?”
Tara rolls her eyes, but her smile is fond. “Troy’s a sophomore here, studying Environmental Engineering.” I raise my eyebrows, impressed. “He’s basically perfect,” she sighs. “Aced everything technical in high school and can do no wrong in anyone’s eyes.Especiallymy parents, who are so pleased they birthed a golden child. I love him to bits though.”
