“Get a room,” I whisper-yell at them, and my mother playfully slaps my arm.
Everyone starts eating again, but I don’t want to lose the conversation just yet. I still can’t tell if I’m being an idiot by thinking Jessie and I are playing some unspoken game or if I’m in the clear.
“So, okay. The consensus is that we all think she knows it was me and this is just…banter. And also, maybe she’s just a little embarrassed?” I ask, surveying the table.
Amelia, Noah, and Lori nod. Charlotte shakes her head in dissent.
“What if she really just didn’t know it was you?” Charlotte asks, emphasizing her earlier point.
“It just seems so unlikely—”
“More unlikely than her playing an elaborate game of ‘don’t talk about the Halloween party’ as banter?”
Charlotte makes a good point. I glance around for someone to back me up, to help me argue with her, but they’ve gone back to their pasta and started new conversations. Even Noah is giving Michael his attention. It’s just me and Charlotte dissecting my love life now.
“Yes, way more unlikely. I’m pretty sure she likes our dynamic as much as I do. Maybe she doesn’t want that to change.”
“Did you know it’s unlikely there’s life on Venus? The planet is inhospitable, hot enough to melt lead, but it doesn’t stop scientists from believing or testing for life. There are people who dedicate their whole careers to Venus, searching for any signs of life on such a volatile planet. The odds aren’t in their favor and they’ll likely never find what they’re looking for, but they never stop trying,” Charlotte says.
“What are you saying?” I ask, chewing on her planet metaphor.
“I’m saying just because something is unlikely doesn’t mean it’s not worth pursuing.”
“Still not following.”
“Find a way to tell her it’s you. Even if it’s unlikely, even if it’s impossible, say it. Because if you’re wrong, this is not going to end well for you.” Charlotte gives me a meaningful look and then turns her attention to Rob when he taps her on the shoulder.
I hate to admit it, but Charlotte is right. I like Jessie. I’d like to ask her out, spend more time with her. I’d like to kiss her again. But I can’t do any of that if we don’t talk about that party. I have to have a conversation with her about it. Even if she knows and we’re just playing The Game, I have to end it.
Long after I’ve left my family and driven back to campus, the planet Venus lives on in my head. An inhospitable planet with all evidence pointing toward “no life,” and there are scientists out there still holding onto hope? Still researching? Trying despite everything?
If someone can dedicate their entire career to Venus, I think I can get a girl to talk to me about a party.
CHAPTERSEVEN
JESSIE
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I mumble to myself as I stroll up to the student labs for my first day as a research assistant to Professor Campbell, only to find Mac sitting in the lobby, one leg casually crossed over the other, watching something on his phone.
I wasn’t going to say yes to Professor Campbell’s ask, but losing my scholarship has me rethinking all my financial aid plans for undergrad and graduate school. I’d hoped to get a scholarship or fellowship to cover the cost of grad school, but now I’ve seen how easily things like that can be lost and I need to pursue other, maybe safer avenues. Like getting an assistantship and being a research assistant. Having experience with Professor Campbell could look really good on my résumé. It’s a backup plan agreed to out of fear, but it’s safer than not preparing at all.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, trying to keep my voice semi-casual, attempting friendly.
Mac looks up from his phone, a wide smile appearing on his face, his eyes practically sparkling. The way his face brightens when he realizes it’s me standing there sends a flutter through my ribs.
“I’m a research assistant for Sara,” he says.
“What? No, I am. She specifically—”
“Jessie, hi. Mac, good to see you.” Professor Campbell emerges from one of the rooms, holding a stack of papers. “You two must have figured out you’ll both be research assistants for me for the next six months or so. How about we get started with a quick rundown before our first group shows up?”
I follow Professor Campbell and Mac into the experiment room, quietly letting out something between a huff and a sigh, because of course the universe has conspired to pair me up with him. We already share two classes this semester, he’s going for the scholarship I need to stay in school next year, and he’s the only person in my way for valedictorian. Everywhere I turn, Mac is there. And now he’s here. And we’ll be spending the next six months observing experiments, coding data, and having meetings with Professor Campbell about the experiments. It’s a lot of time I’ll be spending with someone whose presence is a constant reminder I don’t quite measure up.
Maybe I should back out or see if another psychology professor needs a research assistant. I don’t want to turn this into a competition; I need this to be the easiest thing in my schedule. My head starts to hurt as if my brain is being inflated and pushing against the sides of my skull. I rub my temples and close my eyes for a moment.
“…a study of self-compassion among college students. I’m measuring outcomes when students are given validating, compassionate words or none at all. This is my third year, and although I have two more years, the data is fascinating…”
I stifle a yawn as Sara tells us about her work and eventually transitions to explaining our responsibilities within the experiment. I’m trying to listen, but with a headache coming on and with how little sleep I’ve been getting, it’s all I can do not to put my head in my arms on the table and just take a quick nap.
