Studying.

Midterms were practically upon us, and you could tell the atmosphere at school was different. I could hear people asking each other questions after class, reviewing their notes during class, or asking the classic ‘is that going to be in the test?’ to the teachers. Not everyone was like that, of course. This was a high profile private school, which meant we had about as many serious students trying to get as much as they could out of it as we had rich kids who didn’t really give a damn. Not being a rich kid, I was trying to be in the former camp.

I’m not the smartest guy around, but ever since I started studying a bit every night, I was able to follow classes much more easily. I would also ask Grace questions during recess, and she was always happy to answer. There were times when she didn’t know either, so we either looked it up or asked a teacher.

My confidence level for these midterms was higher than ever before, but I still didn’t have any expectations of acing them effortlessly. That was why we gathered at the library after classes were done.

Sarah, Mila, Thomas and I were each focusing on our textbooks and notes while Grace watched, answered questions and helped us out. I was studying math because I fucking suck at math.

“Remind me, why are you here?” Sarah asked Thomas.

“Our coach has an arbitrary rule for the basketball team. Whoever is the team captain has to score above a 80% in tests or he loses the spot. My grades aren’t bad, but now I can’t risk it, so I asked my good and smart friend Grace to let me join you guys.”

“So the coach is trying to fight against muscle brain stereotypes?” I asked.

“Yeah. And he says that if the captain does poorly, the rest of the team sees it as an excuse and don’t try, either,” Thomas explained.

“Less chatter, more reading, Mr. Muscle Brain,” Grace chided.

“Yes ma’am!” Thomas said.

Sarah and I felt Grace’s eyes on us, so we lowered our heads and turned back to our books. Something about her eyes was different today, even a little scary.

The library was large enough to rival the cafeteria, yet it had two long balconies on the second floor, taking advantage of the space the high roof offered. Instead of a clean, white aesthetic, our library chose large, dark, carved wooden bookshelves, tables and chairs. There were areas to sit and read, cubicles for the use of computers, and even small rooms for about 5-6 people one could reserve in advance. Those rooms were soundproof, had a large table and even a whiteboard. Perfect environment for group studying, really, which made it unsurprising that they were all reserved before we even got a chance.

We were at one of the largest tables, with other people around us occupying others, and quiet chatter echoed in the large hall. ‘Twas really the season for studying. Not fun, but necessary, and some people have an even harder time than me handling things that aren’t fun.

“I can’t anymore! My head hurts!” Mila groaned and rested her forehead on the table. “We’ve studied enough, right? Can we go now?”

Grace spoke in a deadpanned tone that sounded a little ****. “We’ve been here 20 minutes, Mila.”

“I hate this…” Mila moaned.

Grace sighed. “Then go. I’m not your mother. I’m not going to **** you to study. Go home or stop complaining.”

Mila flinched and went back to her textbook.

I could tell Grace’s voice had a bit of an edge to it. Her patience was giving in. I could understand it, actually. It sucks when someone asks for your help but they complain all the time. Add to that the fact that Grace took her studies seriously, which was sometimes easy to forget with how easy going she was most of the time. Still, it was strange to hear her speak like that. It was like she’d snap at any moment.

“Grace?” I called.

“Yes?”

“Can you help me with this problem?”

She smiled. “Sure. What is it?”

“I don’t know which formula I should be using for this.”

Grace sat down closely next to me and started explaining everything. I was really aware of how close she was, how amazing she smelled and how her lips had a faint glister to them that made me want to lean in and kiss her. But as I looked at her, I noticed how into her explanation she was. Getting distracted was doing her a disservice, so I brought my eyes back to my notebook again.

After 20 more minutes, Grace finally allowed us to take a break. There were collective groans of relief all around.

“How on earth do you know so much?” Thomas asked Grace, sinking in his own chair. “Do you even need to study?”

“I’ve said it before. My dad and I have a deal. I get good grades, he gives me a good allowance. Good grades also mean my mother isn’t on our case all the time. School is practically my one responsibility, so I have to do it right.”

“Is there something you want to do in the future?” I asked her. I certainly didn’t expect her to scowl like I’d just touched a nerve. “Grace?”

She sighed and bit her lip. “My dad owns a contracting company. He wants me to become an engineer and work with him after university. Actually, he acts like that’s what I’ll do. He’s never even asked me what I want to do.”

“And what DO you want to do?” Sarah asked her. “You could probably do anything if you put your mind to it."

“I can see you being a lawyer,” Mila said.

“That’s the thing. I… don’t really have anything I want to work on. I can’t exactly complain and say I don’t want to be an engineer because there’s nothing else I’d rather be.”

“Not to be sexist or anything, but being an engineer as a woman sounds tough,” Thomas said. “As far as I know, the field is mostly men.”

“What? You think Grace can't be a good engineer because she’s a woman?” Sarah asked, raising her eyebrow.

“NOT what I meant. The issue is with the work environment. Like it or not, she’s gonna be looked down upon by men who think women don’t belong in the field.”

“I wouldn’t worry,” I said, looking at Thomas. “I’m sure there will be men who’ll look down on her, and they’ll be idiots. You’d need to have a screw loose to mess with Grace, and if they do, well, they’ll soon learn not to. Grace is more than capable of standing up to anyone. Capable of doing whatever she wants, too.”

“Oooh, someone’s getting shy!” Mila teased.

We all looked at Grace, who was all stiff, looking down at her knees and with a full, deep blush on her face.

“I’d get like that, too, if someone said something like that about me,” Sarah grinned teasingly at her friend.

Thomas laughed. “I didn’t know you could be so fucking smooth, dude.”

“Alright! Break’s over! Go back to studying!” Grace yelled at us.

It earned us a mean look from the librarian.

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