Chapter 56 Lottie
I hurry to chemistry class, my boots striking the floor in a quick, uneven rhythm. I’m already fifteen minutes late, and under normal circumstances, that would bother me a lot more than it does right now.
But this couldn’t be helped.
I had to talk to Professor Hale.
I couldn’t let things keep going the way they had been—circling each other, pretending, hurting each other in slow motion while neither of us said what actually mattered.
And now…
Now I’m glad I did.
Because no matter how overwhelming everything suddenly feels, at least the truth is finally out in the open.
A baby!
The thought drifts through my mind again, strange and enormous and almost too big to hold onto for long. It still doesn’t feel entirely real. It feels like something I should be panicking about, but instead I’m mostly caught in this weird, breathless state of awe.
A baby.
Mine.
His.
Ours.
My chest tightens at the thought, not painfully, but with something deep and complicated that I don’t have time to pick apart right now.
I slip into the chemistry classroom as quietly as I can, offering the professor a small apologetic nod before moving toward my seat beside Sandy.
The room is quieter than usual, filled with the soft scratch of pencils against paper and the occasional rustle of pages. No one looks up for more than a second. That’s when I realize the professor isn’t lecturing. He must’ve handed out worksheets while I was gone, because everyone is bent over their desks working.
I slide into my seat and murmur, “Hey.”
Nothing.
Not even a glance.
That alone is enough to make me pause.
Sandy is never this quiet.
I turn my head slightly and look at her. She’s staring down at her paper so intently that it almost looks forced, her pencil moving in short, sharp strokes. Her posture is stiff, her expression unreadable.
Weird.
I frown, then glance down at my empty desk.
Right. Worksheet.
I push back out of my chair and make my way to the front of the room as quietly as possible.
“Hi, Professor,” I say in a low voice when I reach his desk. “Sorry for being late. I had to help out my professor from my last class, and things took a little longer than expected. Could I get the worksheet everyone’s working on?”
He studies me for a moment, his eyes narrowing just slightly in recognition.
“You’re the TA for Professor Hale, correct?”
I nod once. “Yes, sir.”
He holds my gaze another second, then gives a small nod of his own.
“Alright. I’ll let the lateness slide since it doesn’t happen often. But don’t make it a habit.”
Relief loosens something in my shoulders.
“You got it, Professor,” I say quickly.
He hands me the worksheet, and I thank him before heading back to my seat.
As soon as I sit down, I glance sideways at Sandy again.
“How were classes today?” I ask quietly, keeping my voice light.
She cuts her eyes at me for half a second, then just shakes her head and goes right back to her work.
No smile.
No sarcastic comment.
No “you would not believe what happened.”
Just silence.
I blink, a little thrown by it, but don’t press.
Maybe something happened.
Maybe she’s upset and just not ready to talk about it yet.
Sandy’s not exactly subtle when she’s in a mood, but everyone has their off moments.
She’ll tell me when she’s ready.
At least, that’s what I tell myself as I lower my eyes to the worksheet and try to focus, even though a small knot of unease has already started to form in my stomach.
The class drags.
Every minute feels longer than a minute in the sense of time, stretching out in a way that makes it hard to stay focused.
Part of it is the material.
But most of it…
Is Sandy.
We usually talk—nothing disruptive, just quiet comments here and there, the kind of easy back-and-forth that makes the time seem to pass faster. It’s become routine. Comfortable.
Now?
Nothing.
Just silence.
It presses in from my right side, heavy and unnatural, making it impossible not to notice.
I glance at her again, subtle this time, but she’s still the same—head down, shoulders slightly hunched, completely locked into her work like she’s trying to disappear into it.
It’s unsettling.
In all the time I’ve known Sandy, being quiet has never been her thing.
She always has something to say—even if it’s random, even if it’s trivial. A joke, a complaint, a story, a question.
Something.
But this?
This isn’t her.
I force myself to focus on the worksheet, dragging my attention back to the page, working through the problems one by one. But my thoughts keep drifting, circling back to her, to the tension I can feel radiating off her in waves.
Something’s wrong.
And the longer it goes unspoken, the worse it feels.
Finally, the bell rings.
The sharp sound cuts through the room, and I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding.
I gather my things slowly at first, then glance over at Sandy as she starts packing up.
“You have any plans for tonight?” I ask, trying to keep my tone casual.
She doesn’t even look at me.
Just shakes her head.
Then she grabs her stuff—fast—and stands, moving toward the door like she’s trying to get out of there as quickly as possible.
Okay, no.
That’s not normal.
I shove my things into my bag and hurry after her, weaving through the crowd.
“Sandy, wait—!”
She stops abruptly and spins around.
The look in her eyes catches me off guard.
They’re wide. Unsettled. Almost… panicked.
“I can’t, I—” she starts, then cuts herself off, shaking her head like she’s trying to physically dislodge the words.
“I just can’t, Lottie.”
Her voice is tight. Strained.
Before I can say anything else, she turns and walks away—quickly, almost like she’s fleeing.
I stop where I am, watching her go, confusion settling heavily in my chest.
“What the hell…” I murmur under my breath.
Something happened.
Something had to have happened.
And from the way she’s acting…
It feels like it has something to do with me.
I run through everything in my head, replaying conversations, moments, anything that could’ve gone wrong.
But there’s nothing.
No argument.
No tension.
No moment where I said something out of line.
I’ve never treated Sandy badly.
Not even when she was being a little too forward, a little too obvious with her interest in me. Even then, I handled it carefully. Gently.
So what changed?
Why is she looking at me like that?
Why is she avoiding me like I did something wrong?
The questions pile up, one after another, and none of them have answers.
And that…
Might be the worst part.