Chapter Forty-Seven: Dilemma

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Luke:

When I open my inbox after work on Monday, I'm greeted
by an email that I was not expecting. Not in a million years.

Holy shit.

I read over it once, twice, three times. My mouth hangs open and my mind kinda shuts down as the words float hazily across my vision.

Full scholarship

University of Waterloo

Congratulations

Acceptance

Faculty of Engineering

Full scholarship Full scholarship Full scholarship

Waterloo Waterloo Waterloo

Again, holy shit.

And so I just kinda sit there for a bit, not sure whether to be ecstatic or sick. It's this dizzy mix of disbelieved and grateful and surprised and, well, a bit of dread, too, because, I know what this means and I didn't... expect to have to make this decision.

I mean, it's not a decision, right? I can't move to Kitchner for school. Leave Toronto? No way.

Except, fuck. I know that a full scholarship to fricking Waterloo is rare and prestigious and I guess I'm still shocked because there's no way this could actually happen to me. My essays were not that impressive. I mean, it's probably a mistake but, still, I...

Fuck.

I toss my phone on the bed beside me, collapse onto my back and rub my face into my hands.

A gazillion and one things run through my mind and I can feel my temples start to prick with a headache.

They have like, the best research facilities next to U of T. Best eng program in the country, amazing co-op opportunities, high-tech facilities, everything.

They blow York and Ryerson out of the water.

What if... I don't get into U of T?

What if I have to choose between going away to Waterloo and staying in the city at York or Ryerson, even though those programs are obviously inferior?

And, with a full scholarship?

I don't know whether to laugh or cry, honestly.

I probably spend an entire hour laying there, googling shit that I think will help me deal with this dilemma.

An hour and a half drive by car. Closer to two hours on the Go Train, $20 ride each way. And I google the price of tuition at all the schools, which over 4 years amounts to, well, a shit ton of money. And I do more research on the school rankings, especially for chemical engineering, and about job prospects after graduation, about transfer programs between universities.

By the time Mum calls me for dinner I'm still as confused as ever.

And the main thing running through my mind right now is Ophelia Ophelia Ophelia because... how could I possibly leave her behind? How?

I take a deep breath, tell myself to calm the fuck down. I haven't even heard back from U of T yet, so, I'm freaking out for nothing, right?

Yeah. Right.

Should I tell my parents? My friends? Should I wait until I hear back from all the schools so I can make a decision? Should I tell Ophelia? I just...

"What's up, sweetheart? You look like something's on your mind."

I snap out of my daze and look up to where my mom's sliding a casserole dish of pasta onto the table. She's studying me, her eyebrows knitted together a little.

"Uh, yeah," I lie. I shoot her a small smile. "Just tired, I guess."

I don't think she buys it, but she doesn't say anything because I know she doesn't like to pry, and because she thinks I'd talk to her and Dad if something important was on my mind. Which, I would, normally.

But, how do I tell them that I'm trying to decide whether or not to accept a full scholarship to one of top two engineering programs in the country? I mean, what kinda decision is that, even?

Ophelia's smile and her laugh and her giggles and her... her everything flash across my mind and my throat feels kinda raw all of a sudden.

You're an idiot. If your application was strong enough to get you a full scholarship to Waterloo, it's pretty much guaranteed you'll get into U of T. Problem solved.

It's not like we don't have money to pay for school. My birth mom, Sandy, left all her savings to me for college, and my parents invested it so, it's a decent amount of money. I know I'm super lucky. I won't even have to take out student loans or anything.

But like, $60,000 is a fuck ton of money to spend on school if I have the option to get my education for free, you know?

"Everything alright, mate?" As we sit down to eat, Dad apparently notices my weird mood too, because he looks at me with some mild concern wrinkling his forehead.

"Not feeling so great, I guess." I poke through my spaghetti, suddenly not hungry even though I haven't eaten in hours.

"Coming down with something, maybe?" Mum asks. "Allergies? It's that time of year."

That makes me smile, a little. "I haven't had any seasonal allergies in years, Mum."

She shrugs, unbothered. "It's just rare to see you in a funky mood, babe. Anything we can do?"

Give me a full scholarship to U of T?

"I'm good, really. Just one of those days."

Thankfully, they leave it at that.

The next morning, before work, there are acceptance letters from both Ryerson and York in my inbox, which, if I'm being honest, doesn't really surprise me. Both schools offered me a couple grand worth of scholarships that barely cover a year's worth of tuition.

Shit, I know the going to school in Toronto is really competitive but really?

Still nothing from U of T.

My friends go to U of T. Justin, Khaled. People I went to high-school with. Darcy. It's where Fee wants to go too. I won't know anyone at Waterloo.

By Wednesday, I'm still feeling anxious and uncertain and worried. Feelz usually comes over on Wednesdays after school. It's kinda become our thing, because I finish work early, and she doesn't have soccer practice or work or whatever until later in the evening.

Normally, I'm super excited to see her, and so is my dick, but today I'm just so out of it, and, I feel guilty for even considering the possibility of moving away for school and so honestly, I'm nervous to face her. Because she's gonna know that something's wrong and I don't wanna have to lie to her.

But if I tell her, I know how much it'll upset her and I hate seeing her unhappy.

I open the front door for her and she beams at me with that brilliant, luminescent smile of hers and my chest actually fucking aches.

I force a smile onto my face, pull her into a hug. She snuggles close to me as we wander to my bedroom and she's so warm, and soft, and she smells good and she feels good and she's Feelz and I love her and it hurts.

I lock my room door, out of habit, and she cranes up to kiss me, out of habit, but she pauses, and her cute little forehead scrunches up, and she examines me shrewdly before murmuring, "What's the matter, Luke? Is everything okay?"

My words catch in my throat because I don't even know what to say. So I just nod, try for a smile, thread my fingers into the back of her hair and pull her towards me because her kisses make everything better, don't they?

She's a little tense at first, obviously still concerned, but I pull her to me tighter and kiss her harder, bury my face into the crook of her shoulder, press hot, open-mouthed kisses to her neck, and she melts into me, purrs a little against my mouth.

We haven't had sex since... Hey, it's actually been a while. Friday, I think. Besides over the phone on Saturday night, which was super hot and stuff but, not the same thing. And this week she was back to school after spring break, so, she's been busy.

Normally, being with her, being close to her and holding her and having her is never far from my mind. I always want it, and so does she. But since I got this news on Monday, I've been so preoccupied and, well, sex is kinda the last thing I've been thinking about, honestly.

But I kiss her, wrap my arms around her, collapse onto the bed with her in a tangle of arms and legs, tugging at her clothes while she tugs at mine because, this feels good and I want to make her feel good, even though my head isn't in the right place right now.

When we're both in just our underwear, I can feel her skin, and I can feel her curves, the way her body feels molded against mine and yet for some reason I just don't feel... buzzed, or hot or crazy like I normally do we're together.

She straddles me, looking so fricking sexy in just her bra and panties, and her cheeks are flushed as she's grinding against me and we're kissing except fuck, fuck, why is this happening to me? Why do I have to feel like this?

She reaches down to palm me through my boxers and then tears her mouth away from mine, confused and embarrassed. "Luke, are you..."

I reach for her, pull her to me to kiss her again. I probably just need some more foreplay or whatever, I guess. I kiss my way down her neck, feel the way she arches up into me as I undo her bra. And then I'm kissing her tits, rubbing and sucking her nipples the way she loves except I'm also thinking about the possibility of living nearly two hours away from her, eight months a year for four years of my life and I can't even comprehend it, I can't...

She's squirming and whimpering and she's perfect except I'm still barely hard right now and we're both painfully aware of it. And she knows something's up, and I know that I'm hiding it from her, and I feel like crap and I just want to love her except, the thoughts won't leave me alone, and I still can't get it up, apparently, and... Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

She nudges at my chest to push me over and I topple onto my back, low-key mortified. I swallow back the lump in my throat, squeeze my eyes shut as she crawls on top of me, winds her arms around my neck, nuzzles her face in the dip of my shoulder.

"Oh, Luke," she whispers. She slides her fingers softly over the top of my hair and the tenderness of her touch, the gentleness in her voice nearly makes my eyes prick. "Please tell me what's wrong? You know you can tell me anything." She flutters light kisses over my cheeks, over my nose and my eyes. I rest my hands in the curve of her waist and hold her really tight and she cups my cheeks in those small palms, looks down at me with so much love shining in her wide brown eyes.

I exhale a heavy breath, try to calm my shit before I explain, kinda hoarse, "I got some news, uh. About university next year, and, I'm still trying to figure things out, I guess."

She stiffens a little, sucks in a breath, because she knows what the potential conflicts are, I'm sure she's thinking the worst right now. "Where... what did you find out?"

I stroke the back of her hair idly and tell her, "Well, it's pretty crazy, actually." My voice sounds hollow to my own ears. "I got... a full scholarship to Waterloo, which, is bizarre, but..."

I watch as the surprise, the flurry of different emotion flit one by one across her face before she pulls her mouth up into a soft, supportive smile. Oh, Feelz. "That's amazing, Luke," she breathes. "I'm so proud of you. Congratulations." She squeezes me against her into a hug, except I can tell from the raspiness in her voice that she's freaking out, too.

"I also got into Ryerson and York, and McMasters, but not a lot of scholarships there. I'm waiting to hear back from Queens and U of T."

She chews on her bottom lip and then, with her chin quivering a little, asks, "So, what are you thinking?"

The back of my throat stings. "I'm waiting on U of T, because, that's where I really want to go." I lean up to brush my lips against her forehead, where lines have furrowed her soft skin. "Please don't be sad, Feelz. I know it's really... scary but I'm trying not to worry until I have to, you know?"

She nods vehemently, burrows her head against my chest. "I... just want you to be happy Luke, you know?"

I'm trying really, really hard not to cry right now, fuck... "I know. I love you so much Ophelia. I... want you to be happy too."

We lay there, crushed tightly together, in heavy silence for a while, wallowing in the possibilities. I had... so many plans, for school and work and a career and, for us. For Feelz and I, and I'm just trying to wrap my mind around a solution that makes sense, even if right now it seems so... Fuck. So fucking terrifying.

By the time she has to leave, we still haven't had sex, and when I say good-bye to her at the door, she puts on a brave face but there are tears in her eyes and it absolutely fucking kills me.

***

A/N:

I'm gonna blame my tears on my menstrual cycle, because obviously that makes the most sense.

How is everyone surviving? Share you crazy-COVID-chronicles here.

XOXO Ami

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