Chapter 142

Asher waited for me outside while I joined the faculty advisor in his office. He was behind his desk, typing on a computer, while I sat in one of the uncomfortable chairs facing him.

“Let me get this straight,” he said, after asking three times for me to spell my name. “You have failed your qualifying exam…”

“Withdrawn from it,” I said.

“Same thing,” the advisor said. “But you have done so because you are pregnant.”

After keeping it a secret for so long, it still shook me up to hear it said aloud so plainly.

“Yes, that’s right.”

The advisor made a humming noise and continued typing. After a moment, he spoke. “I assume your intention now, then, is to tell me you plan to withdraw from the Academy.”

“No,” I said at once.

He finally glanced at me, away from the computer screen. Confusion furrowed his brow. “No?”

His surprise made me nervous. Surely, I hadn’t imagined the existence of the transfer exam.

“I wanted to sign up for the academic exam,” I said. “Is that… possible?”

“It’s possible to sign up,” the advisor said. “Passing is an entirely different matter. Are you sure you want to waste your time? Wouldn’t it be easier to drop out now and pursue other options for your life?”

I vehemently shook my head. “It will not be a waste of time, sir. I can pass. I know I can.”

“No purely athletic student has ever passed the transfer exam.”

“I understand that.”

“You believe yourself to be the exception?” the advisor asked.

“I refuse to give up.” I understood it would be difficult, but the way everyone was acting like it was impossible made me so frustrated. “Please sign me up for the exam.”

The advisor hummed again. He held my gaze a moment, as if measuring my strength of will. I returned his stare with determination.

Eventually, he sighed and turned back to his computer. “Very well. It is your right as a potential student to take advantage of this option.” He typed away for a minute. He didn’t slow as he said, “I can schedule your exam next month, so you will have a bit more time here at the Academy.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Thanks aren’t necessary. It’s my job.”

He typed the last few keys with a flourish, then lowered his hands to his desk. Looking at me again, he said, “I would suggest you drop from the cheerleading team, however. With your condition, I doubt you could keep up with them.”

“I understand.” I couldn’t argue with him there. Especially with my prognosis that I should not perform physical activities, I would never have been able to meet the minimum standard acceptable for the squad.

“Good.” He laced his fingers together on his desktop. “Now, Cynthia, my advice to you would be to study as much as you can. To pass this exam, you will have to achieve something that countless others before you could not. It will require unprecedented dedication.”

“I can do it, sir.” I would not lose my chance at a happy life for me and my baby. I would do whatever I needed to do to make that happen. Even if that meant I had to learn how to be a scholarly student in a hurry.

After everything I’d achieved and all the hurdles I’d crossed in the past few months alone, I firmly believed I had what it took to make this happen.

And I didn’t have any other choice.

The faculty advisor nodded and sent me on my way. When I was nearly at the door, he stopped me. “Cynthia.”

I looked back at him.

“Good luck,” he said. “You’re going to need it.”

Asher stood outside the building on the corner of the sidewalk. Arms crossed, he glared at the road like the passing cars had personally offended him.

“Asher?”

When he turned to me, his face softened for a moment before his blank-expression mask slid back into place. After being so close for such a long time, it was unnerving to watch him close himself off to me again.

“How did it go?” he asked, when I came to his side.

“Good!” I clapped my hands together. “I signed up for the transfer exam. It’s next month, so I have some time to study. Seems like I’m going to be spending all my free time at the library.”

Asher nodded. “And in that time, I can help you decide on a Plan B.”

“I don’t need a Plan B, Asher. This is the backup plan.”

“Plan C, then. Just in case.”

Asher was looking out for me, I knew that. He didn’t want me to fall flat if this didn’t work out. But the fact that he had jumped straight to me failing without seeming to believe I had a sliver of a chance aggravated me more than I wanted to admit.

I pushed the bad feelings down and tried again to steer him into talking about the exam.

“I’ll have to work hard, but the payoff is going to be so worth it. Can you imagine? I’ll get to be a mom and stay here in the college of my dreams.”

“It’s not that easy,” Asher said.

“I know that. But didn’t you hear me? I’m going to work hard –”

“When you drop out, I can help you find a low-rent apartment in a nice neighborhood. I’ve been looking into a few. Also, there are some tax-funded resources that are available to eligible single mothers. There’s a website…”

He obviously had been doing research on my behalf, which I appreciated, but he made it seem like he was certain I would fail. He’d even said, when you drop out. Not if. When.

“I think we can put all that on pause, yeah?” I said. “When I pass the transfer exam, none of it will apply to me.”

“Plan C, remember? We can’t just pretend it isn’t a very real possibility that you won’t pass the exam.”

I blinked, surprised by his certainty. Then the hurt set in.

Of all people I wanted to believe in me, Asher was at the top. I trusted him and his opinion. I’d been so confident before, and wanted to hold onto that feeling. But if Asher didn’t think I could do this… maybe I couldn’t.

No. I had to stay strong. Asher was just being an overprotective worrywart like always.

I tried once more to bring him back onto my side. “You’ll feel silly saying all this when I ace the exam.” I forced a laugh, to make light of it even though my heart was aching.

Asher had to believe in me. After everything we’d been through together, he knew the depth of my determination and will. He had to know I would never give up.

My laugh slowly faded. Then too, did my smile. I held his gaze for a long moment, pleading him with my eyes to have faith in me.

Frowning, he looked away.

The air left my lungs in a rush, like it had been punched out of me.

But no, I refused to make assumptions. A look didn’t mean anything. I needed him to say the words, to my face, before I’d think less of him.

He deserved the benefit of the doubt.

So I took a steadying breath, and asked him, flat-out. “Asher, you do believe I can pass the transfer exam. Right?”