I'm almost at the ending; one more chapter after this. Thanks to one of my reviewers for pointing out that in chapter four, Digory asked his mother about going to the nearby college in the city. I'd randomly slipped "Harvard" in as the name of the college, just until I could come up with a different name, and when I posted the chapter I completely forget to edit out the "Harvard" and change it to "Davidson," the different name I ended up choosing. So please just pretend that I had put "Davidson," and thanks for reading, lol! :)

The weeks crawled by for Mrs. Kirke. With her husband and son gone and Polly at home, the huge country estate was lonely with nothing to listen to but Uncle Andrew's prattling. Slowly the drizzly summer months passed from June to July to August. Then the end of August was nearing. Digory was still traveling with his father. She hated the silence and spent a good portion of her time writing letters to her family and friends or visiting Melissa Barnes, the good professor's wife.

For Polly the days seemed to whiz by, and with each new dawn was another painful reminder that she was one day closer to making a decision. Would she accept and go to this Davidson College, so well-known and yet seemingly a planet away from home? Apparently this college was close enough that she could rent an apartment in the city for the weekdays and spent the weekends with the Kirkes. But would this mean she saw Digory? From Mrs. Kirke's letters it appeared that Digory would be going to some other more well-to-do uppity college and hopefully far away from his home. By the last week of August, she made her decision. This was the best chance at being published that she would get. So she sent in her application.

As for Digory, the weeks would inch by at times and at others seem to fly by. Some of the colleges he visited sparked an interest in him, others were not the type he was looking for. But none were right. He hated not having an answer. He truly loved studying and wanted with all his heart to make a career as a professor, but he just couldn't find the right college. This was a frustrating experience for him. In school there was always an answer, always a solution. Here, there was only a void of nothingness.

"You must decide, Digory," his father said to him as the end of August approached. "For heaven's sake, you should already be packing for your first semester! I can't tolerate this, son. You have to choose, and it must be now."

"Why is life so full of decisions?" Digory grumbled. "Why can't it be straightforward? Here's what you have to do, this is what must be done, so just go and do it. Simple."

"What you have to do," Mr. Kirke echoed, "is pick a college! So pick!"

Digory sighed. This was what his entire fate was resting on. "I honestly don't know."

"You can't waste your life following a silly dream. I know from experience. You must work to earn your keep and make a living. You'll understand someday."

"Davidson College," Digory said in a rushed breath, then groaned and sighed. "I just don't know. I guess I'll give it a try."

Mr. Kirke stared at him in astonishment. "Out of all these ridiculously famous colleges that you had a chance to attend––out of all the wild places and important cities we've visited––you just decide you'll settle for second-rate at a school near our house?" He was unabashedly amazed.

Digory held up his hands. "Please, don't bother me about it. I need to process this and figure out what I need to do. But lastly, it's not second-rate. It is a very nice college with learned professors. I think it's just what I need, Father."

"Your choice, Digory, not mine. Tragically, however, the majority of the cost is being paid by me, so I expect good grades and no complaining. If you wanted a better college, you had your chance. That's all I'm asking." His narrow eyes held his son's.

Digory met his gaze evenly and nodded. "I will do as you command."

Mr. Kirke slumped for just a second. "I don't want to command you. I want you to do this out of respect, out of your own free will."

"Then I will do as you wish. I'm a lucky man," Digory reminded. "Most blokes don't have fathers who are willing to follow them across the world in a crazy attempt to satisfy a curiosity. Or mothers who encourage and uplift, instead of scolding and screeching and whining about housework."

The older man's lips quirked in a sideways smile. "You've learned diplomacy well, I'll give you that."

Digory brushed him off, though he couldn't hide his grin. His old father was starting to come back alive again. "Yes, it is nice to be skilled in wheedling and flattery, isn't it? Makes it easy to get my own way."

Mr. Kirke clapped his son on the shoulder. "I am your father, and don't you forget it."

The rest of that afternoon was more easygoing and relaxed than Digory had felt on his journey.

Polly was spending her time packing for college. The days slipped through her fingers, and by the time she had been accepted to the Davidson College she only had a short week to pack. Already it was the last day of August. Her mother rushed into the room, fanning her face.

"Open your window for heaven's sake, would you Poll? This is the hottest summer we've had in years."

"It's just the humidity," Polly warned, but she complied and slid the window open. "If it even hints at rain, I'm closing this thing."

Already Mrs. Plummer had forgotten the heat. She stared in shock at Polly's suitcase. "Dear, you're going to need more sweaters and skirts than that! And certainly a nicer pair of shoes."

"You forget that they have a special uniform for me to wear, Mum, that goes with the dress code. I'll be fine. And I don't need any more shoes. I have three pairs already, and they're extremely heavy. I'll barely be able to lift my suitcase."

Mrs. Plummer ran a hand through her hair, frizzy and frazzled from the heat. Damp curls clung to her forehead. Polly was thankful she'd inherited her father's straight brown locks that only curled slightly at the tips.

"What about scarves and jackets? Perhaps a fashionable dress or two? You will have time for social life too, you know. What if you find a boy, go on a date, and you don't have anything nice to wear?"

Polly visibly tightened. She knew it was visible from the way her mother's vein on her forehead started throbbing. They'd had this talk before. "I won't be going out with any guy, thank you very much. You know that. There is currently an empty space in my love life, and I'd like to keep it that way."

"I don't get this," Mrs. Plummer said in frustration. "Something must have happened to make you so upset. What was it?"

"Absolutely nothing. Only that I changed my way of thinking, that's all." Polly straightened. She would never give away a word. Besides, it was true. She never even thought about Digory anymore. Sure, his face popped up in her head about three dozen times a day, but she always pushed it away and started humming a song or reading a book, so, no, she didn't think about him one bit.

Mrs. Plummer pulled out a green velvet gown that Polly had worn once to a friend's wedding. Gently, even tenderly, she folded it and slipped it under a pair of stocking in her suitcase. "You'll thank me someday."

Mrs. Kirke paced the chocolaty brown carpet in the library. She'd just received two letters, one from Digory and one from Polly. Digory's had stated that he was going to attend Davidson College and could she please talk to the professors there about getting him swiftly enrolled. He promised to be back in half a week's time.

Polly's had explained that while she had been going to take the train to arrive a few days before first semester started, her mother had been in an automobile accident. Though she wasn't severely injured, Polly wished to stay by her mother's side for another couple days. She assured Mrs. Kirke that she would still arrive in the nick of time for classes to start.

"The poor children," Mrs. Kirke murmured, a half-smile playing on her lips. "I don't think they even realize that they're both going to the same college. This is turning out perfectly."

Well, no more time to rejoice. She had a busy day ahead of her. The lady went straight to Professor Barnes's to ask about her son being accepted to Davidson College. The professor was a bit hesitant at first, but he agreed that even though it was late to enroll, he would talk with the headmaster and see if they couldn't tweak the rules just this once.

Next day, she received word that Digory was accepted to Davidson College. First semester started in three days.

A telegraph came from Polly. No letters, since they probably wouldn't even arrive on time. Her mum was apparently still incapacitated and Polly didn't want to leave her side. However, the telegraph made it clear that Polly would be at the countryside as soon as possible. Or rather, city. She was staying at an apartment near the college during the weekdays.

Digory and Mr. Kirke's train ride had been cancelled, she discovered, due to engine trouble. The closest one was early next morning.

By then, it was the day before first semester.

Neither her son nor Polly had come.

"I made it, I made it, I made it." Polly blew a sigh through her lips, checking the clock on the wall. It was eight o'clock in the morning and her first class at Davidson College was about to start. She'd gotten here at nearly midnight last night, after finally finding a train to catch. She'd already been sent the key to her apartment and had barely unpacked at all, instead tumbling right into bed, wrinkled clothes and all. She hadn't even had time to contact poor Mrs. Kirke. The lady must be a wreck of nerves.

Now it was time for her first class. The arts of writing. She smiled. A perfect way to start the day. If she could just stop thinking about her mother's sprained knee. Mum will get better. The doctor thinks it will heal quickly. Oh, but I was so frightened when she was in the accident. It was right after I'd spoken harshly to her about wearing that dress.

Meanwhile, Digory was struggling to stay calm as he read through his class schedule and tried to find his way to first class. Something with writing, or language, or literature. He'd just glanced at it, hadn't even taken it in fully. His head screamed for sleep, as he and his father had caught the earliest train this morning. They'd arrived at the station not twenty minutes ago and his father had gone wild getting him to the college on time.

Digory finally found the classroom. The bell had just rung. He'd made it. Good. Deep, calming breaths. His hand found the door handle and he cracked it open, just in time to catch a man's voice introducing a new classmate.

"––anyway, Miss Plummer, I'd just like to welcome you to class. You have an assigned seat in the third row."

A feeling of shock lodged itself in Digory's throat. Unconscious of his actions, he leaned against the door to hear better. Had the professor just said Miss Plummer?

Polly Plummer?

It couldn't be.

His mother would have mentioned it to him. Oh, wait, she wouldn't have! He gritted his teeth, lost in his thoughts, and was therefore still unaware that he'd been pressing close up against the door when it pushed open, scraping against the floor, and he fell flat on his face in front of his classmates, namely the haughty Polly Plummer.

What a way to make an impression on his first day.

There was a collective gasp from the students, the loudest ones ringing from Polly herself. "What––" he heard her say in disgust. She plowed on, oblivious to the stares she was receiving. "What is he doing here?"

The teacher, who just happened to be Professor Barnes, reached a sympathetic hand down to Digory and helped him to his feet. "Digory Kirke! I'm so glad to see you. It's been quite a few years, I suppose. What's all this about, then?"

Digory wiped his eyes, dry and unbelieving, rubbing at raw skin as if to double-check what he was seeing. "Polly? Why are you here?"

"I could ask you the same question!" she shouted, poking a harsh finger against his chest. "Where did you spring from, hm? Why did no one tell me you were here?"

"Why didn't anyone tell me you were here?" he asked through clenched teeth. "Why do you pop up wherever I go? I just can't get rid of you. Don't know when to take a hint, do you?"

"Ugh!" Polly exclaimed, feeling tears stinging the back of her eyes. She couldn't let them leak out, not now of all times. She'd bottled them up all summer, washing her mind of any negative thoughts and thinking and focusing only on her writing. "You little beast! I––I hate you!"

"Miss Plummer!" Professor Barnes admonished. The class however seemed highly entertained, eyes glued to the angry couple facing each other off. After all, how often did you get to see a fight break out during the first few minutes of a brand-new college semester?

"Good!" Digory spat out tightly. "Because I hate you too. I never liked you. I don't know what made you think that! You're clueless and annoying and arrogant and stubborn!"

Polly let out a cry of pent-up rage, or maybe it was hurt. She stumbled from the room, in tears and feeling a tiny piece of her heart break away once again. Where could she seek privacy? She didn't need people trying to comfort her right now or figure out what was wrong.

Meanwhile Digory remained in the classroom, hands fisted into balls, aware that he had just been ranting on like a toddler and not at all like a studious, sophisticated college student. He'd lost his chance for everything now.

Because there was no going back from what had just happened.

I realize this chapter is longer than usual; I wanted to be able to get everything in and then wrap up in the final chapter. Thanks for reading, please review. I would love feedback. =)