Chapter 22 Trial by sunrise
Chapter 22: Trial by Sunrise
Golden stared at the email again as if the words would rearrange themselves into something less terrifying.
Verbal presentations. Tomorrow. Morning.
The library slowly faded away, and Golden felt like she’d slipped into an alternate dimension. Even Alex’s dramatic groan sounded distant, like it was echoing from inside a tunnel.
And slowly, she began to sink.
Allan was the first to recover. He slid his backpack onto one shoulder, expression sharp.
“Okay. No panic,” he said, steady and calm. “We outline tonight. We rehearse. We kill it.”
His voice pulled Golden back to reality, anchoring her long enough for focus to return.
Alex looked up from her hands, face pale.
“Do I look like someone ready to be verbally sacrificed before Professor Dwayne? Why can’t we just catch a break for goodness’ sake?”
Golden swallowed hard. Presentations were her personal nightmare, too many eyes staring, too many minds judging, too much pressure. She was the top of the class, yes…but presenting felt like walking barefoot into fire.
She exhaled slowly.
“We’re doing this together,” she whispered more to herself than the others.
Allan’s gaze softened.
“Exactly.”
He knew about her hidden demons, how standing before a class felt like drowning.
They didn’t bother lingering in the library. They moved toward one of the classrooms.
It was obvious no one was going home anytime soon.
Professor Dwayne was out for blood.
Study Room B-14 — Night Strategy Meeting
The small room smelled faintly of dust and overused air-conditioning.
Allan and Alex immediately set to work airing it out while Golden waited in the hallway. They weren’t about to risk triggering her asthma. Only after twenty minutes when they were sure the space was safe, did she step inside.
Papers covered the table. Golden’s laptop screen glowed like a miniature sun in the dim room.
Alex slumped into a chair, her hair in a messy bun that silently screamed, I give up… but not fully.
Allan leaned back with that frustrating ease of someone who naturally took the lead without being asked.
They were all tired. Their faces showed it, their bodies fought not to collapse. Yet they forged on.
“All right,” Allan began, tapping the whiteboard marker against his palm.
“Our presentation will have three parts: overview, methodology, and expected outcomes.”
Alex groaned. “Why do you sound like you’ve done this before?”
“Because I have,” he deadpanned. “And because you two panic for sport.”
Golden shot him a halfhearted glare.
“We’re not panicking.”
Alex pointed at her. “You are sweating metaphorical bullets.”
Golden hissed, “Alex!”
But Allan smirked, his eyes lingering on Golden a second too long.
“Relax. You’ll be fine. We have a solid direction.”
Golden tried to focus on her notes… and failed miserably.
She tried not to notice how close Allan had moved his chair. How their arms kept brushing. How his voice dipped lower every time he spoke directly to her.
The emotions tugged at her like a silent war, feelings vs. rationality battling for supremacy.
If what she had for Allan before was a harmless crush, what she was experiencing now was full on infatuation.
Rationality finally slapped everything back into order, and she refocused.
They rehearsed until the clock crept past 9 p.m.
Alex massaged her temples dramatically.
“I’m going to die tomorrow. Bury me with my PowerPoint.”
“No death,” Allan insisted. “We’re finishing strong tonight.”
“And food?” Alex asked weakly.
“I’ll order something,” Allan said, already typing.
Golden blinked. “You’re treating us?”
“Call it team morale,” he shrugged. “Also, Alex becomes violent when hungry.”
“True that,” Alex agreed immediately. “A tired, hungry, and sleep-deprived Alex is not a happy Alex.”
While waiting for food, Golden stepped into the hallway for air. Her heartbeat refused to calm.
The internal battle resumed, round two.
Feelings, emotions, and logic stepped into the colosseum of her mind, armed like gladiators.
She leaned against the railing, staring at the courtyard lights.
She didn’t hear Allan approach until he stood beside her, hands tucked into his pockets, hoodie pulled tight against the cold.
“You okay?” he asked quietly.
Golden nodded.
“I will be. Presentations just… I don’t like standing in front of people.”
“You’ll do great,” Allan said, firm and steady. “You always surprise people.”
Golden’s chest warmed.
“That’s… nice of you to say.”
“I don’t say things just to be nice.”
Their eyes met brief but charged. He looked away first.
“Also… thanks. For not giving up on me in this project.”
Golden blinked. “Why would I give up?”
Allan chuckled softly. “Most people do. I’m not exactly easy to work with.”
“I didn’t notice,” Golden said quietly. “You always had a group. Unlike me… I was always the odd person in the class. Well, not until Alex came onboard. This is the first time I’ve ever been in a group.”
Her voice drifted as she stared into nothingness.
Allan turned fully toward her. Suddenly, the hallway felt too small. Too quiet.
“Golden…”
The door burst open.
“FOOD IS HERE! GET INSIDE BEFORE I EAT WITHOUT YOU!”
Alex yelled dramatically.
Golden nearly jumped out of her skin.
Allan stepped back with a half-smirk.
“Saved by the Alex.”
Golden laughed nervously and followed him inside.
They ate, argued, rehearsed, rewrote, then rehearsed again.
Golden felt her voice grow steadier with each run-through.
Alex’s jokes eased the tension.
Allan’s confidence anchored the room.
By midnight, they collapsed into their seats.
Alex yawned like a distressed lion.
“If I sleep in class tomorrow, wake me with violence.”
Golden shut her laptop. “We’ll be fine.”
Allan leaned forward. “Golden.”
She looked up.
“You’re ready.”
Her pulse stalled for a beat.
Alex rolled her eyes dramatically.
“Ugh. Can we not fall in academic love right now? I’m too tired.”
Golden threw a pen at her. Allan just smirked.