By some grand miracle, for the second time we passed it, Lexi didn't notice the large sign advertising the University's location. She was oblivious to the upcoming situation. She followed me aimlessly, curiously studying the building. By her calm composure, I figured she was imagining the building to be some sort of museum or exhibit. I tried not to wince in anticipation.

      As I headed deeper down one of the alleyways separating the city's many edifices, following Susan's instructions, Lexi frowned.

      "Are you sure we have the right place?" Her nose crinkled as she studied our surroundings.

     Spotting the neon pink post-it wedged between one the side door's hinges (Susan's doing), I nodded. With my back to Lexi, my outstretched hand paused, inches from the metal handle. I was torn. Torn between the satisfaction of finding the office, the excitement of potentially changing Lexi's life for the better, and anxiety towards revealing my true intentions. There was no hiding the truth now.

      Turning to face her, I swallowed. "This is the right place," I confirmed nervously. Opening the door, I gestured with my hand that she enters first. "After you."

      Lexi hesitated; brows pinched together as she studied me from head to toe. "Why are we using the back door?"

      "This was the door I was told to use." I tried to shrug coolly, gesturing again that she go ahead of me. If I managed to get her inside the building before telling her the truth, maybe I could guard the door and force her to hand in her work or remain stuck inside... It wasn't the most gentleman approach, but I was desperate.

      Lexi took a small step forward, still a foot short of the door. "Why are you so nervous?"

      "I'm not nervous." Everything about my stance and voice was nervous.

      "Yes. You are." Brown eyes narrowed to scrutinize me some more. "You keep swallowing. You won't meet my eyes and you're wiping your hands against your Jeans as if they're sweaty."

       I didn't say anything. I couldn't deny her words. I forced my palms away from my thighs and my eyes down to hers.

      "Why are your palms so sweaty, Jaxson?"

      I didn't miss the hint of accusation in her tone, as if she knew I did something she wouldn't approve of.

      Involuntarily a nervous giggle escaped my throat. "I just want you to enjoy this."

      Lexi remained sceptical.

      "Come inside," I essentially begged. "I promise I'll explain everything."

      Movements slow, features still furrowed, she did as I asked. I followed her inside, already placing myself protectively in front of the closing door, preventing her potential future attempt to flee.

      Inspecting the white hallway, searching for hints of our whereabouts, Lexi waited for an answer.

      "So..." I chuckled apprehensively. How did person A tell person B that they did the one thing they asked them not to do, without making person B angry?

      Saved by the sound of heels pattering against the marble floor, heels that were progressively getting closer, my head whipped towards the noise. I greeted the worker with a smile, shoulders tense as I waited for their reaction.

      Silver hair in a loose bun atop their head, a box of files held to a plump hip wrinkling the fitted grey skirt, the worker walked past us unconcerned. I heaved a breath of relief, until they froze, head whipping our way as if startled.

      I froze along with the employee, only then realizing that we were somewhere we ought not be. Panic surged in my chest. There had to be a way of explaining two teenagers' presence in an empty hallway in a prestige building.

      Amid fashioning a cover story that truly wouldn't have served as much cover, the worker grinned. Careful not to grow too hopeful, I relaxed a bit.

     "Jaxson?"

     My name escaping her red lips, I heaved a sigh of relief. "Susan."

      Susan nodded, looking around before taking a step forward, making a point of keeping her voice low.

     "Glad to see you made it." She smiled softly. Though she tried to act casual, I noted the studious glance she passed over me, as if searching for the fatal illness that would soon take my life. Seemingly finding no hints in my appearance, her gaze moved to Lexi. "You must be Lexi-Grace."

     Lexi nodded politely; brows still furrowed tensely.

     "Though I've had only one conversation with Jaxson, I've heard a lot about you." Susan grinned. "He's crazy about you."

      Cheeks burning red, the forced polite smile on Lexi's face remained. While most would have been sheepish, denied Susan's remark, I grinned proudly. Damn right, I spoke a lot about her. I was not ashamed of my utter, undeniable infatuation with the girl.

      To ease Lexi's uneasiness, I lead with introductions. "Susan's the secretary. She made this happen."

      Susan smiled at Lexi but tensed at my praise. Right. What she was doing could get her in trouble.

      "But," I corrected myself. "We don't know Susan. We stumbled upon this door all by ourselves."

     My words succeeded to ease Susan's worries, but Lexi tensed, brows shooting into her hairline. She was blinking rapidly, eyes ready to blow out of their sockets.

     "Pardon?" Lexi demanded, uncharacteristically rattled. "Why do I feel like we're breaking rules."

     Susan and I winced.

     "Jaxson." Her tone was full of warning. "Are we supposed to be here?"

      The nervous giggle returned. I didn't want to lie, so I didn't answer. I looked past Lexi, ignoring her fiery gaze, and focused on Susan, hoping she'd take the lead.

      "They're just down the hall," Susan started, seemingly anxious to return to her desk as if she didn't want to be around when Lexi learned the truth. "Two rights, then a left... Good luck."

      With one last smile, Susan headed down the opposite end of the hall. I wasn't sure if she was wishing us luck with the council or wishing me luck with Lexi. I probably needed both.

      Susan out of sight, Lexi didn't hold back, regarding me with her most stern glare. Something told me that she was starting to work things out.

     "Who is they?" she asked slowly.

      I ignored the question, instead taking her hand and leading her the way Susan had directed.

      "I might have done something that you wouldn't entirely approve of," I began cautiously.

      Lexi let go of my hand, eyes widening like saucers. She was too smart for her own good. "No... Please tell me you didn't."

      There was no denying the truth in my grimace. Lexi cursed under her breath, and my own eyes widened. I had never heard her curse. Maybe this was a mistake. Maybe the supernatural forces were messing with me.

      Lexi was clutching her hair, pulling slightly, clearly distraught. But I knew that as much as she was angry and afraid, a large part of her panic stemmed from how much this meant to her, and it reminded me how important this was. So, when Lexi continued to complain and listed all the reasons that this was an unreasonably horrible idea, I let her talk. I let her talk even when we neared the room of people that were soon in for a surprise.

     I heard the soft whispering and brushing of chairs against the floor off to my left, but Lexi was too busy freaking out. Continuing with this approach, I knew we wouldn't make a promising first impression, but Lexi's legs were moving forward, mindlessly following me and I wasn't about to stop that.

      "They don't even know we're here!" she eventually concluded loudly, surely not unnoticed by the they she was referring to.

      "Yes, well," I kept my voice low, stopping in front of the opened door. I knew before looking inside what I'd find. "They'd wouldn't have let us in otherwise."

      Lexi grumbled helplessly, frustrated fingers back in her hair.

      "And what?" Lexi's eyes narrowed accusingly. "You thought you could break all their rules and they'd suddenly be happy to hear us out?"

      I didn't speak, frozen in place. I didn't dare sneak a sideways glance, I kept my gaze straight, undeniable apprehension dancing across my pupils. I awaited the dreadful moment that Lexi noticed the multiple pair of eyes fixed our way.

      "We're not doing this." She shook her head vehemently. Little did she know, we were already doing it. "I appreciate your dedication, but this isn't the way to do it... Let's go. We need to leave before anyone sees us."

      Lexi's attempt to turn around was halted harshly by a resonating voice.

      "A little word of advice," the gruff voice echoed across the large room and into the hall. "If you're seeking not to get caught by a certain group of people, it is wise not to have an argument outside their door."

      With no other choice, only then did I face the room, smiling apologetically at the group. A dozen judges scattered across the room, each with their own laptop and desk, half the group regarded us with amused curiosity, while the other half scooted to the edge of their seats as if prepared to call security.

      Face as red as the fire extinguisher on the wall, Lexi tensed so rigidly that I winced. Small feet turning as if ready to bolt, I took her hand again, holding her in place.

      "I know we're not supposed to be here." I took a careful step inside, one hand held back as Lexi didn't dare to move. I would have to drag her along with me. Literally. "And I'm sorry to disregard your rules, but I thought it better to try than to live with regret." Or die with regret in my case. Everyone was quiet, blinking in confusion, so I kept going. "Hear me out if not to help me, but to at least appease your curiosity."

      Silence filled the room as they deliberated my request. As looks were shot in between each of them, opinions softly whispered, I ignored the tugging of my hand.

      After a few long moments, during which I was certain Lexi hadn't exhaled a single breath, the judge with the pinched beard and flannel shirt spoke again.

      "We'll hear you out." There wasn't a smile as I was hoping for, only narrowed eyes. "But you're probably wasting your time."

     I wasn't fazed by their lack of enthusiasm. "Lexi-Grace is a phenomenal writer and I think it would be a grave mistake to decide against reading her work." I cut right to the chase, few brows raising in response.

     "We read every submission submitted within the appropriate time frame." There was a challenging tone behind this one's words, as if Lexi missing the deadline was crystal clear to the group.

      "And I understand your need for boundaries," I returned genuinely. "But I think you can also understand how some special circumstances might warrant breaking those boundaries."

      "As much as we'd like to, we can't accommodate everyone's needs. Every applicant can reapply next year."

      I chewed the inside of my cheek. I didn't have a year. I wouldn't be there to convince Lexi to go through all this a second time. "I don't think it's fair to make her wait a year."

      The angriest looking board member eyed his peers, as if to judge their reactions. "We receive a lot of messages about special circumstances. Is it too much to ask about these circumstances?"

      I hesitated, hoping my face didn't show the falter in my confidence. I anticipated their reaction to my words; certain they'd think our excuse unsatisfactory. I wished I could play the pity card with them too. But how could I say, "Her special circumstance is my resurrection to help her do this!", without admitting that I was a dead person brought back to life only to die again?

     "Lexi was afraid to admit how badly she wants this; how much this meant to her," I started cautiously. "And when she finally decided to take her dreams seriously, she psyched herself out to the point—"

     "She forgot," he guessed, barely resisting an eye roll.

     I felt Lexi shrink beside me and my jaw tightened. I wouldn't let them destroy the progress I made. They didn't know Lexi-Grace like I did. They had no right to judge.

      "She forgot," I agreed, sticking out my chin. "She was staying up late and spending every bit of free time perfecting her piece. And she was stressing herself out, filling her mind with doubt because she was in the process of changing her entire career path... And yes, she forgot. But I think we can all agree that sometimes we forget important things."

      Though nodding absentmindedly, the group didn't seem any closer to giving in.

      "That's true," someone in the back agreed. "And we can be sympathetic to that, but when we've had special circumstances that encompassed hospitalization and the loss of loved ones, what makes this situation more appropriate to accept than others?"

      "Has anyone wanted this so badly, has anyone been so determined that they drove half-way across the country to be here, to speak their case to you in person?" I challenged.

      Few looked minorly impressed, shaking their heads in agreeance.

      "But whose determination, is it?" The earlier, gruff looking judge challenged me. Would it be wrong to fight someone who was almost my grandad's age? "She doesn't seem too pleased to be here."

     I hesitated again; lip tight between my teeth as I bit back a nasty remark.

     "I take it this was a surprise?" I wanted to pry those arrogant fingers folded beneath his chin. Maybe shave the moustache that he seemed to admire.

     "Yes." I forced through gritted teeth. "But that doesn't make this any less important."

      "There are only few spots in the program." Mr. Grumpy pants shook his head, sitting up straighter. "And though I praise our writers for being talented, talent only gets you so far. Success requires dedication and punctuality."

      "Dedication is not something Lexi-Grace lacks," I retorted, cheeks heating. "And the same can be said for punctuality. Especially when it comes to this. She—"

      "If she can't speak for herself, then I'm afraid we can't help you." He looked past me, at Lexi, and leaned forward expectantly.

      I squeezed Lexi's hand reassuringly, hoping, praying that she would speak up for herself. Face as red as a fire truck, Lexi sucked in a breath. When pink lips parted to answer, hope burned in my chest.

      "We're sorry for bothering you," she whispered to her feet, tugging me away from the doorway.

      Eyes crinkled painfully, I resisted the tug, shooting the panel one last pleading look. I received a few sympathetic regards, but most eyes were resolute. It didn't matter what I said. They wouldn't hear me out. It had to be Lexi.

      A little way from the room of critics, Lexi pulled free from my grasp. Cradling her head, she paced the empty hall.

      "I'm sorry," she said and by the way she was shaking her head at the ground, I didn't know whether she was apologizing to me or herself. "I know how much you wanted this."

      "I wanted this for you." I took a tentative step forward. "You have nothing to apologize for. It was my fault. I should have warned you."

      Lexi continued to shake her head – I suspected that she didn't even realize she was doing it.

      "You had the right intention. You went about it the wrong way, but your heart was in the right place."

      "It doesn't have to be the wrong way."

      Lexi stopped pacing, to look at me with pinched brows.

      "It doesn't have to be over –" my words faded when Lexi shook her head again. "No," she said instantly. "I can't."

      "You can't or you won't?"

      "It's pointless."

      "You didn't answer my question."

      She hesitated. "I – I can't."

      "You and I both know you can," I countered, taking another step forward in hopes that she'd look at me. "You think you can't because you're not willing to try. You think it's pointless, but it's not. You can try, Lexi. You're just scared."

      Lips parting to object, I beat her to it.

     "Lexi." I stilled her wrist with my hands, this time forcing her to hold my gaze. "I can't force you to do this, but it can't hurt to try. I believe in you."

      "Doesn't mean they will."

      "But they might. What's the worst that can happen. What are you really afraid of?"

      Lexi didn't miss a beat. "Rejection."

       "If you go in there, I fully believe rejection is not in the cards for you." I swept my thumb across her forehead, trying to smooth the creased lines of worry. "But even if they refuse to hear you out, even if you get that rejection, it's not the end of everything. It's just one group of people's opinions. You haven't exhausted all your options... And isn't it better to try and be rejected, than to live the rest of your life knowing that you never gave your dreams a real chance?"

       Lexi's gaze softened, eyes crinkling almost painfully. She drew her lip between her teeth, gnawing, thinking. I could practically see the wheels spinning in her mind. Before she could draw blood, I swept my thumb across her bottom lip this time, releasing it from her tight grip.

       "I know it's scary," I sympathized. "I know this is so far from your comfort zone. But I think you need this. I think this fear you're feeling right now will be nothing compared to the feeling of regret if we leave with your work still in hand."

      Lexi was quiet, looking between me and the hall in contemplation. I could tell by the pensive look in her eyes, that I had nearly reached her. She needed one last push, one last nudge to urge her feet back the way they came. Swinging my backpack around, I took out the poems that I printed. Lexi watched my every move with careful consideration.

      "Go in there and do your best." I held out the stack of paper with an encouraging smile. "You've come so far from the unconfident girl I first met. You know what you want. You're starting to speak up for yourself... And it doesn't matter if you go in there and your face goes flaming red or you lose and stutter your words. None of it matters. Because you're still you and this is still what you're meant to do."

       With a heavy breath and shaky fingers, Lexi took the stack from my grasp.

       "You've been quiet for so long," I went on softly. "I think it's far time that you've let your voice be heard."

      That was the last push she needed. Instead of shaking her head, she was nodding it feebly, chest rising up and down with deep breaths.

       As she readied herself to go back down the hall, I smiled proudly.

       "A little word of advice," I called, lingering behind her. I gave her space. Of course, I wanted to watch, but this was her moment. I would witness her moment from a minor distance. "Let them see how much this means to you. You have the tendency to hide the value in which you place certain things, as if you're protecting yourself in the chance things go wrong. I get it. I've done the same... But please don't put your guard up. Let them see you. Let them see the real Lexi-Grace."

      With a soft smile, eyes permanently wide as if she couldn't believe what she was doing, Lexi nodded. With tentative steps, she headed back towards the room.

       Only pausing briefly outside the door, with a sharp inhaled, Lexi stepped over the threshold. She moved quickly, as if afraid she would lose her nerve if she waited too long. Most of the group's attention returning to the entry pieces, chatting animatedly, many moments passed before they noticed Lexi.

       The stack of papers shaking along with her fingers, Lexi cleared her throat. "I—I've come to see if you'll hear me out."

       Few smiled as if proud to see her take a chance on herself, but others, I counted five, cocked their brows skeptically, as if they thought their time would be wasted. I swallowed the rage crawling up my throat. Every nerve in my legs burned to walk in there and talk some sense into them. To tell the about all the progress Lexi had made and how more difficult they were making this for her. But I couldn't meddle. I set my feet in place, watching Lexi from the hall.

       I watched Mr. Grumpy pants in anticipation, deciding to name him Peter, in honor of my least favourite uncle.

      "So, you do think that you're more deserving that the others who request special exceptions?" Peter challenged.

      The clock ticked forward, the rising and falling of breaths and impatient tapping of feet the only sound in the room. For a fleeting moment, I feared Lexi wouldn't answer.

      "No." She huffed in a heavy breath. I frowned, not sure that I agreed with her approach. It was not the approach that I would have taken to convince them to hear her out. Lexi took another steadying breath. "I don't think I'm any more deserving of this."

      I was definitely questioning her approach now, but by the way she tilted her chin upwards, head held uncharacteristically high, a little voice in my head told me to have faith.

       "I'm no more deserving than the hundreds of people who missed the deadline for reasons that are certainly better than a forgetful mind. But that doesn't mean I'm not still deserving. Because I am. I am deserving of getting a chance. And if I have learned anything these past months, it is to stop comparing myself to others. I am enough the way I am."

       If I grinned any wider, my cheeks would crack. Lexi was as red as ever, and the tremble in her voice was prominent, but for the first time in her life she was speaking up for herself and I could not have been prouder.

       Gaze falling to her sneakers as if second guessing herself, swiftly she countered herself, raising her eyes, not in challenge, but in seeking of their attention.

      "We're listening," Peter said plainly, careful not to let his expression reflect his thoughts. I was suddenly feeling smug. She was already breaking Mr. Grumpy pants' defence.

       Lexi only waited a beat. "I can't say that I've always thought myself deserving. I've long hated myself; didn't see it in myself to follow my dreams. I still struggle with it... obviously. But I'm learning. I'm working on it, and I've got some pretty great people helping me." She turned her head slightly to shoot me a grateful smile, and my heart plummeted in my chest. I don't think a day would pass, in which Lexi didn't make my heart race. "I know what I want, now. And I want this. As much as the other program I applied to is respectable, as much as I might enjoy it, it doesn't light me up inside like writing does. You said success requires dedication.

       I'm not afraid to admit that I made a mistake. But my forgetting does not make me any less dedicated. There's nothing I want more than this... And I don't know what to say to convince you that I'm worth being given a chance. I won't lie and say that I'm one of the most talented writers I know. My vocabulary isn't extravagant. I'm probably not the next Stephen King or James Patterson. But I'm unique in my own way. It took me a long time to realize that. I've spent a lot of time comparing myself to my favourite authors and belittling myself because our styles were so different. But different is good.

       My own ideas and ways of thinking are reflected by my words and that's what makes my pieces standout. My material is not always pleasant but it's honest. And it's not because I've faced these grand struggles other than that I've imposed on myself. A lot of people seem to think the self-imposed kind of problems aren't as significant as others, but I think—I know that they're important to talk about. To talk about being your own worst enemy; about hating yourself; about being shy and stressing yourself to the point of forgetting most of your high school years and other important events. It isn't talked about with enough honestly. I want to be that voice. And your program can help me do that."

       The grin on my face wasn't disappearing anytime soon, especially when I noticed glazed over eyes and furrowed brows of consideration. I knew deep in my heart that Lexi had gotten through to at least a few of them.

       Though Lexi was regarded with thoughtful gazes, no one made move to speak, no hints made on whether they would read her work. When it became clear that they wouldn't speak, Lexi began again, surprising me.

       "Whether or not you choose to give me a chance, thank you for hearing me out." She stepped deeper into the room, heading towards an empty desk. "I don't expect an answer, but I'm going to leave this here for my own peace of mind."

       Depositing her work on the desk, she spun on her feet, heading for the door without another word. Only when she faced me, her back to the group, did I see just how much it had taken from her. Brown eyes were blown wide in a mixture of disbelief and panic, muscles on her throat tensed as if she was holding her breath.

      Walking quickly down the hall, I was barely able to keep up. Lexi only exhaled once we were a few doors away. Hunching over, hands on her knees, she caught her breath, eyes still as wide as saucers.

       "I can't believe I did that!"

      "I know!" I sprung forward. Though Lexi was still hunched forward, I straightened her out, pulled her to my chest and spun her around. "I'm so proud!"

      Still breathless, Lexi laughed into my shoulder.

      "I take it the meeting went well." The smile in Susan's voice could be heard.

       Setting Lexi down, we turned to face the woman; me with a grin, and Lexi still bewildered. I beamed at the secretary, hoping the magnitude of my gratitude could be seen in the softness of my gaze.

      "The future will tell." Lexi shrugged passively, but the hope in her eyes was undeniable.

       "They didn't say if they'd read it or not," I continued, before Lexi could diminish what she had just done. "But I'm optimistic they will. They might have been silent but the look in their eyes was telling."

       Susan smiled genuinely. "I'm happy to hear that."

       "Thanks again." I lowered my voice. "We couldn't have done this without you."

       "It was nothing." Susan shrugged. "It was nice to do something new... Feel free to use the front door on the way out."

        I smiled gratefully again, taking Lexi's hand to guide us both towards the entrance. Lexi was already outside slipping out the door when I heard Susan's soft voice.

        "Jaxson." The woman hesitated, voice just barely a whisper.

      I turned her way with inquiring eyes.

       "Take care of yourself." She smiled painfully; eyes crinkled.

        Even the reminder of my pending death couldn't deter my mood, for I knew that I had just taken massive steps in my journey of completing my task. I didn't dwell on the fact that the end of my task meant the end of my life. I chose to see the end of my task as the beginning of the legacy Lexi was meant to live.