Free My Only by Sophia Duane

crushes. But with my brother knowing, he was going to force my hand. Either I was going to go after Olivia or he was.
    In the library, my stomach settled down and I started to relax. In the moments she and I were together, just talking, I wasn’t stressed. Our conversations were easy for the most part. It was when I wasn’t with her that my anxiety flared. It was when I was thinking about her—or over-thinking about her—that I was the most nervous. When it was just us, it felt like it was meant to be like this, like I was just her ticket to a good grade.
    It just felt like we were friends. And I liked it. I didn’t want the pressure of potential y asking her out and most likely being rejected, so I pushed al of that away and decided to simply enjoy being her friend.
    “You mean I have to just memorize it?”
    The despair in her voice was priceless. I nodded dramatical y. “I’m afraid so.” Tapping her notebook, I said, “And get better at taking notes, because these are . . . al over the place.”
    “So if you’re al smart and stuff, what’s the quiz going to be like?”
    “Probably a few multiple choice, a few short answer, and a smal essay question. They’re trying to prepare everyone for col ege.” She groaned then laid her forehead against the open book on the table. “No wonder it’s so annoying.” Regardless of wanting to date or not, I stil wanted to know more about her. “Do you know what schools you’re applying to?” Raising her head, she shook it. “I bet you have everything al planned out, right?”
    “No. Not a clue. Aaron does though.”
    Olivia sat al the way up. “Real y? Where does he want to go?”
    “Duke. His back-up schools are Notre Dame, even though we’re not Catholic, and the University of Michigan.”
    “And you don’t know? Don’t you want to go where he’s going?”
    I shrugged. It would be strange not being at the same school as Aaron, but separating from him was bound to happen at some point. We were close, but not so close that we would be out of sorts without each other. “A friend of mine goes to Northwestern so I’l probably apply there. What about you? Do you know what you want to study?”
    With a heavy sigh, she stretched, arching her back over the chair before twirling her ponytail around her fingers. “I don’t even real y want to go. I mean, my grandparents want me to, so I’l go, but I don’t know what to study. I don’t real y like any subjects more than others.”
    “But you like dancing, right?” I asked. It was the first time any verbal mention of me seeing her dance in her bedroom had been made. She shrugged, but added a nod to it, letting me know that she did enjoy dancing. “There are schools for that. You could—”
    “That’l never happen,” she said. “My grandparents won’t let me go to school for dance.” I didn’t get how she could be so obviously a free spirit, but then buckle under the weight of her grandparents’ wishes. “Isn’t it your choice?”
    “Yes, of course, but I’m just not going to ignore their feelings.”
    I didn’t understand why they would feel anything other than happiness for her. She was good at it, and from what I saw that night she had a passion for it.
    I wanted to ask more, but she tapped the book with her pen and said. “So you think I’l do okay?”
    “You did the reading, right? Just stay calm during the quiz and remember what you read. And if you don’t do wel , we’l work on it and you’l do better next time.”

    I picked up the paper she’d shown me earlier and read the study guide questions. If it was me, I’d be able to take the quiz without even studying.
    It bothered me that I knew she was smart, but she said she didn’t do al that wel in school. I had no solid evidence of her intel igence, beyond her ability to hold a conversation, but there was a gleam in her eye that indicated she was.
    “Why don’t you do wel in school?” I blurted out the question then felt crappy