The afternoon light slanted through the tall spotless windows. Grace sat at her immaculate desk with her textbooks open, her laptop glowed and papers were nearly stacked.
Her pen tapped rhythmically on the wood surface, but her focus was short.
She leaned back in the plush chair and then stared at the ceiling. Her phone laid face down on the desk because she had no messages.
Maya and Amber had both begged off the weekend because of family events and prior plans. With Derrick, she hadn't even asked, there was no point. There was too much unsaid between them. She couldn't handle that right now.
Her finger drummed impatiently. She felt like their house and her life was a glided cage.
Later, Grace stepped into the marble and glass expanse, where her parents sat in their usual spots.
Her mother, pristine in her cream suit, sipped tea without looking up while her father was reading the financial section of the paper and he lowered it as soon as he noticed her approach.
"Shouldn't you be studying?" her father said without warmth.
Grace braced herself, "I was. I needed a break."
Her mother glanced up now, disapproving but silent as her father folded his paper carefully, "A break is a luxury, Grace. One we can't afford when you're underperforming."
The words cut deep. Underperforming, because she got an A- minus last semester?
"It was one unit," Grace tensed.
"And it's one crack in the foundation that weakens everything. We did not build this family for you to be average." Her father deadpanned.
Her mother set her cup down softly, the clink unnaturally loud and then she nodded in agreement, "You have responsibilities. Expectations. We've invested too much for you to falter."
Grace felt her throat tighten, but she kept her expression carefully neutral. 'Years of practice.'
"You better fix your grades before we decide to act on it," her father said coldly.
He didn't elaborate, the threat was evident from his voice.
Grace nodded stiffly and turned on her heel, walking away.
The echo of her footsteps filled the silence they left behind.
---
At night, her hands shook slightly when she opened her laptop. The exam answers she stole, now sat on one of her folders. On her desktop.
She clicked it open.
Lines of questions and corresponding answers filled the screen, they were typed tidily. Professor Callahan's signature at the bottom confirmed their authenticity.
Grace stared at them.
This wasn't who she was, or maybe it was. Maybe it was who they made her.
She exhaled a low breath and whispered to herself bitterly, "They want perfect. I'll give them perfect."
Her hand reached for a pen. She began copying the answers by hand, committing them to memory. The room was dead silent except for the scratch of her pen against paper.
The invisible mask that she wore everyday tightened as she worked. For her this was survival. She was not going to break. Not yet.
---
On Sunday afternoon, Grace walked along the cobblestone streets, a tote bag over one shoulder, her strides were brisk but relaxed. It was a rare weekend alone in town without her parents breathing over her neck.
She slowed as she approached Dempsey's Bookstore, its display windows boasted first editions and new releases. A little bell jingled when she pushed the door open, and the familiar scent of old paper and roasted coffee wafted over her.
Her fingers trailed along spines as she walked through the aisles, her eyes scanning titles without much thought. She turned a corner and stopped short.
Derrick was standing there, holding and old copy of Crime and Punishment. He was in a black turtle neck and jeans as he read the back cover.
He glanced up at the movement and their eyes locked.
For a second, neither of them spoke, then Derrick's lips curved into a slow, almost shy smile, "Grace."
"Derrick," Grace called to him politely.
She was about to walk past him, feigning non-chalance, but he stepped in time with her, "Didn't expect to see you here."
"It's a bookstore, Derrick. Not exactly a nightclub." He chuckled warmly.
"Still. Nice surprise."
She offered him a light smile as the tension between them grew densely. There had always been something there. Something Grace pretended wasn't and something Derrick didn't want to acknowledge too.
They walked together for a moment as the shelves closed them in.
Grace stopped near the philosophy section and her eyes narrowed on a book that was placed just out of reach. She stretched for it and she couldn't quite get it.
A shadow fell across her, and Derrick's hand easily plucked the book from the shelf, his body close behind hers.
His breath brushed her ear, "This one?"
Grace stiffened but nodded, taking it from his hand without turning around. Their fingers brushed and her pulse spiked. She stepped forward quickly, pretending not to notice, "Thanks."
Derrick's smile lingered behind her.
They stepped out of Dempsey's together and the small sidewalk buzzed with a few people.
"There's a coffee place next door. You interested?" Asked Derrick.
Grace hesitated as she thought of saying no or leaving. "Fine. One coffee."
"I'll take it," Derrick grinned.
They sat at a corner table, books stacked between them. Grace wrapped her hands around her cup, savoring the warmth.
Then they talked.
Surprisingly, it was easy. They debated Tolstoy versus Orwell. Grace then made a sarcastic comment about love stories in classic literature. Derrick countered with a well-aimed barb that made her laugh before she could stop herself.
His eyes softened at the sound. "You should laugh more often."
Grace looked away, the warmth in her chest making her uneasy.
Time went by as their coffees grew cold but they still talked.
"Hey....why didn't you answer my message?" Asked Derrick.
The question cut through the quiet as Grace's finger tensed around her cup. "What message?"
He leaned back in his chair, studying her, then he took out his phone, scrolling until he found it, then showed it to her. "Thinking about next week...Next time, no rules. Just us."
Grace swallowed hard, her cheeks flushing, "I thought you were...(she searched for the word)…sexting me."
Derrick blinked and then laughed. A rich, deep laugh that drew glances from a nearby table.
"No," he said amusingly shaking his head. "I meant the game night. You remember? Maya and Amber bailed after losing. It was just you and me left. I figured next time, we should make it more fun. No rules."
Grace stared at him, embarrassment prickling along her skin. She fought the urge to look away, "Oh," she said quietly.
"Though (he leaned in slightly) If you want it to mean something else, Grace..."
His gaze held hers, warm and steadily.
Grace forced a smile keeping her walls up, "Don't push your luck Derrick."
And they both laughed it off as they finished their coffee in companionable silence.