Page 26 of Here in My Heart (Here Together #2)

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Moisture pooled at Ade’s armpits. This afternoon was sure to test all her new people skills.

Her counseling sessions had been dwindling for the last few weeks while the students were getting their heads around assignments and deadlines.

But as the end of term crept up on them all, a sense of panic had set in.

Now she had a line of people waiting to see her.

“I don’t know what to do,” Madison said, rushing into the room.

“About what?” Ade rubbed at her hair and gripped her forehead, the glare from the strip lighting shining too bright for her brain to function.

“Everything. I just can’t handle any of it.”

Ade tracked back to their previous conversation, joining the dots in a beat. “We talked about lightening your timetable last week. Did you manage to discuss it with any of your tutors?”

Madison huffed and threw her bag on the floor. “I don’t think we’re on the same wavelength. When I suggested it after French Lit on Monday, he looked at me like I was crazy.”

Ade suspected that the quality of Madison’s French or her complete reluctance to speak the language might have played a part in her teacher’s resistance.

“Ade, I don’t think I’m going to be able to pass this semester.” Madison’s tone grew serious, and her lip trembled. “Will I be sent home?”

No crying. Ade could absolutely not deal with tears right now. The buzz of the overhead light grew louder. She glanced up at the restless line of people waiting at the door. “Listen, this semester is no big deal. Just make it up when you come back after the holidays. ”

“But the attentions or whatever the f?—”

“The attestations?” Ade squinted at Madison. For some reason, every student had to have proof that they’d been attending seminars and lectures. “That’s a simple signature. Just ask your tutors to autograph your slips next time you have class.”

Madison’s jaw dropped, and tears sprang to her eyes. “That’s the thing. They won’t know who I am. I haven’t been attending many classes.”

This was worse than Ade expected. Madison clearly hadn’t been showing up for quite some time, and there was no way any teacher worth their salt would sign a declaration of attendance when there was no sign of willingness.

“What can I do?” Madison asked, clearly expecting all the answers.

“Hey, are you going to take the whole damn hour, Madison?” Scott called from the hallway.

“Yeah, some of us need some real help here,” another student said.

A cluster of thoughts circled in Ade’s busy mind, and she couldn’t choose between them.

She rubbed at her temple, desperate to slow down her racing heartbeat and settle on the right advice.

“It’s just a signature, Madison. It’s not like anyone will even check back home. Jesus, I could sign it myself.”

Madison’s eyes flicked around, as if she was trying to work out some hidden meaning behind Ade’s remark. “You mean, fake it?”

“No.” Ade rolled her eyes. How did she get here? Advising a bunch of grad students when she was barely a few years older. “That’s not what I said.”

“Yeah. Got it, Teach.” Madison winked, her tears drying up with a wild grin. “That’s me figured out. I’ll send Scott your way.” She scooped up her bag and ran out the door.

Ade sighed, grateful to see the back of Madison but kicking herself for not having a firm grasp on the solutions her students needed.

She looked up to the lumbering shape of Scott entering the room, wearing a sports vest. Whatever came next couldn’t be as bad.

She couldn’t handle anymore ethical nightmares.

On days like these, she really wondered why she was still here.

To prove her bosses wrong back home? To convince her dad she could hold down a proper job? It sure was making her head hurt.

Montpellier’s festivities were in full swing. Opposite the opera house sat a giant globe made of a thousand tiny bulbs. The tree-lined promenades twinkled, leading to where the tall Nordman Fir, surrounded by a hundred and one gifts, presided over the merriment.

Ade squinted up at the tree, blurring the bulbs like fireflies one by one until they bled into a single glow. She loved this time of year back home, but here, the chill had finally made itself known across the south, and where modern met ancient, the season trebled in significance.

Under the canopy of fairy lights, the unique shadow of Sylvie strolled up, right on cue. “Hey, stranger.”

“It’s been a while.” Ade had counted the days they had spent apart.

“Miss me much?” Sylvie asked.

Ade’s whole body lightened in her presence. “I don’t usually miss people while they’re not with me, but yeah. I’ve missed talking with you.”

Sylvie broke into the widest smile Ade had ever seen. “Me too. Shall we walk?”

Ade offered Sylvie her arm. “How was it? Your trip?”

“Mixed. Wonderful to be in Paris again. Isa humored me by visiting most of my old haunts.”

“And the speech?” Ade asked.

Sylvie’s smile faltered. “Challenging, actually. I wish you’d been there to listen in. ”

Excitement and intrigue flowed through Ade’s veins. She would’ve dropped everything to go to Paris with Sylvie. “Why? What do you mean?”

“I was exploring the same old themes in my previous books. I touched on the new stuff. But the audience was pretty provocative when it came to old feminist theory and new thinking. They really went at me about gender constructs and discrimination against trans people.” Sylvie drew her closer.

“It was a tough gig. It made me think about how I present my ideas in the new book. Maybe change it up a little and challenge some of the theory and language.”

Silence extended between them as Ade waited for a specific question before she gave her feedback.

“Sorry, I don’t want to go on about it. It wasn’t that bad; it just wasn’t a smooth ride.” Sylvie’s spark seemed to fade a little.

“Did you need my input on it? Or did you just need to say it out loud?”

Sylvie laughed, her beautiful jaw line extending above her scarf.

“I love the way you clarify things so perfectly. Most people would just head right in there and say what they think.” She stopped for a beat and turned into Ade, holding onto her arm.

“I would like your views on this. I feel like you might have something to say.”

“Gender is a complete construct and the discrimination against trans and non-binary people is completely fueled by old-fashioned misogyny and a hard core of trans-exclusionary radical feminists. But you know that.” Ade nodded.

“I do know that. But it makes me think that I have spent my life’s work defending theories which have fueled something divisive and hurtful.”

“Those theories stand on their own merit. It’s what people have done with them in a different context that can be divisive and hurtful, which is not on you or your work.” Ade held her hands, and Sylvie’s pulse beat in her thumb. “Don’t take responsibility for someone else’s errors or intentions.”

“Thank you. I don’t know why it got to me so much.” Sylvie bumped against Ade’s shoulder. “Tell me about your day.”

They walked in step with each other for a few beats. “Strange one. I had a line of students for an open counseling session.”

“You did? That sounds like a headache.”

“It sure was.” Ade rattled off the story of Madison’s faked attestations.

“You told her to fake her paperwork?” Sylvie’s mouth gaped, and her eyes widened with horror.

“No. I told her not to do that.”

“But you suggested it, and she went skipping off. You don’t think that tells you something?”

Ade stuttered. This whole situation was getting away from her.

“Ade, can you really not read the room?” Sylvie’s movement stalled. “It’s infuriating sometimes.”

Ade sank into her coat with shame. She hadn’t meant to give Madison bad advice. “I panicked. But I did tell her not to do it.”

“Do you know nothing about teenagers and young adults? Give them an out, and they will absolutely take it.” Sylvie pressed her hands to her forehead. “We might need to do something about this before it gets out of hand.”

“I think you’re overreacting.” Ade was fixed to the spot, her body unwilling to move until she’d figured a way out of this.

“Oh, you do? The professor with fourteen years teaching experience versus your—how many?” Sylvie shook her head. “That’s right. You don’t actually have any teaching experience, because you avoid the classroom and like to spend your time with more simple creatures.”

“Marine life is anything but simple. They’re some of the most complex and clever creations in the world,” Ade whispered.

She suspected that Sylvie’s tirade was meant to hurt, but a numbness overcame her body like a shell, designed to protect her from the insults and injuries Sylvie’s words intended. “I’m sorry. You’re right.”

Backlit by a storefront, Ade couldn’t make out Sylvie’s expression .

“No. I’m sorry.” Sylvie’s tone had softened, to almost a whisper. “You’re right. You did tell her not to do it, and it’s not your fault if anything untoward happens. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. It’s like I could snap at any moment.”

“I didn’t mean to make you angry,” Ade said.

“I know. It’s not you. I mean, it is you. But it’s not anger, not really.” Sylvie looked into Ade’s eyes.

“What?” Ade scanned her face for the meaning.

Sylvie smiled. “I’m very confused about how I feel about you.”

“In a bad way?” Ade asked, silently begging Sylvie not to say yes.

“In a really good way.”

Ade pieced together all the information she possibly could, trying to figure out how it had led them to this moment, but she still failed to grip Sylvie’s meaning. “I’m going to need a bit more information.”

“I like you,” Sylvie whispered. “More than I should, all things considered. And I think you like me too.”

She bit her lip in a way that made Ade want to kiss her on the exact spot. “Just to confirm your hypothesis: I do like you.” Ade grinned. “More than I should, all things considered.”

Sylvie blew out a puff of air, which they could both see in the cold. “I don’t know what to do about it. I’ve been mulling it over since Paris.” She studied the sidewalk. “I wondered if you could help me work it all out.”

“Well, I’m pretty good at asking questions and getting to an answer.”

“I know.” Sylvie giggled.

“So what would you like to do?” Ade stepped into Sylvie’s space, her lips hovering inches away.

Sylvie shivered. “Maybe kiss you?”

“Yeah. That could be arranged.” Ade ignored the terror building inside. Was this happening? The thing she’d toyed with inside the guide rails of her fantasies. “Now? ”

“Yes. Now?—”

“Sylvie!” A male voice broke the trance they’d weaved.

“Paul.” Sylvie took two steps backward, almost losing her footing. “How lovely to see you.”

“You too.” He smiled broadly. “What a wonderful evening. The Christmas markets are beautiful this year, aren’t they?”

“Paul, you might not have met one of our pastoral care leads.” Sylvie gestured to Ade. “This is Adelaide Poole from the science department’s international cohort.”

“Pleased to finally meet you. I’ve heard lots of good things about your group.” Paul shook her hand. “It’s really breaking down barriers bringing science and art into one team. It’s a marriage made in heaven, isn’t it?”

Stunned by the whiplash of having to pull back from almost kissing Sylvie, Ade forced a breath into her lungs. “Yes. Pleased to meet you.”

“You must both join me and my family for drinks,” Paul said, hooking his right thumb over his shoulder.

“No, please. We couldn’t possibly intrude.” Sylvie’s voice strained with politeness.

“Nonsense, it’s Christmas. My wife has a table in the square.” He spread his arms wide, ushering them toward a bustling café.

Ade caught Sylvie’s eye, and they shared a wild look. She replayed the near miss as she followed in the footsteps of the head of department and Sylvie. She squeezed her palms together, trying to ground herself from losing all control.

That had been amazing, until it had been wrenched from her reach.

The hum of the crowds suddenly filled Ade’s ears with unbearable noise, and it took all she had not to run off and find a quiet place.

She wanted to stay with Sylvie. She yearned to finish that kiss.

Nothing mattered more than discovering just how soft Sylvie’s lips were, how they tasted.

But the moment had slipped through their hands like a flurry of snow.

Would she get a second chance at that kiss? Or would Sylvie have second thoughts?