Chapter Fourteen – Choices

"Chris, please, it's been days. You need to eat something." The dining hall seemed quieter than usual as Michael pushed a plate of toast toward Chris, who looked at it briefly before going back to staring blankly at the table.

"I'm not hungry," he said, seemingly for the umpteenth time. He saw Melody guiltily look down at her plate of eggs and push them around with her fork.

"I'm worried about you," Michael said, his brow furrowing. "You can't keep this up forever, you know."

"I can try," Chris replied grimly, pushing the plate of toast back toward Michael.

"Chris, please," Melody pleaded. "Linda wouldn't want you to starve yourself to death." He flinched at her words.

"But Linda's not around to care, is she?" He said with pointed look. She visibly paled and swallowed, going back to her eggs and stabbing them with her fork loudly. Michael cleared his throat.

"Chris-" he started, but before he could finish, Chris got up abruptly with his bag and left the dining hall, the slam of the doors echoing and briefly silencing the chatter around them. Melody threw down her fork.

"He hates me," she said sadly.

"No, darling, he doesn't hate you," Michael soothed her as he held her shoulders. "You weren't the one that went and told Linda's parents about him."

"But I gave Anne the information," she replied, biting her lip. "I didn't mean to hurt him..." She sniffled as a tear fell down her cheek.

"Melody, don't blame yourself for this." Michael hugged her. "Anne was the one that was out to get him, not you, and he knows that. He's just...depressed right now. Give him some time, he'll come around." Melody wasn't the least bit comforted by his words, and before Michael could try to soothe her anymore, she grabbed her bag and slung it on her shoulder, ignoring Michael's call to bring her back. She walked out of the dining hall and down the open corridor, her thoughts lost in the torn emotions that rested in her chest like a ton of bricks.

"Hi, Melody!" She turned and saw Anne waving cheerfully as she strolled up to her side. "Haven't seen you around lately." Her arm linked into Melody's and she hummed happily as they walked. "Beautiful day, isn't it?" She asked with a smile on her face.

"I'm not talking to you," Melody said tightly, pulling her arm away from Anne and walking faster to get away from her. With a huff, Anne followed her.

"What? You're my best friend; you can't just stop talking to me."

"I can and I am," Melody barked as she spun around, almost making Anne crash into her. "How can you be so happy when you know what you've done to him?" Anne's face turned blank. "Because of you, Chris is about this close." She held up her thumb and forefinger between their faces. "To losing his mind."

"And how is that my fault?" Anne shot back with a scoff. "I can't help the way he responds to things happening. You know he's moody…he's actually kind of cute when he pouts," she said with a small smile.

"This is not funny, Anne," Melody snapped.

"Why are you mad at me?" A look of utter confusion screwed up Anne's face. "You should be mad at Chris; he was the one in the wrong. Dating Linda behind her parents' back, it wasn't decent. And she's underage! Quite the scandal, if you ask me."

"And what concern was that of yours?" Anne opened her mouth to answer, but shut it and shook her head.

"Melody, why can't you see that I did the right thing?"

"The right thing?" Melody repeated, not believing what she was hearing.

"They were living a lie," Anne reasoned. "I had to stop it before it got too far. Before Chris got hurt and in trouble."

"Are you daft?!" Melody shouted, making everyone stop around them. "Chris was happy with Linda, the happiest he had ever been! You just couldn't stand it that he was happy with someone that wasn't you!" Anne looked as though she was about to reach out and strangle her.

"You better watch what you're saying, Melody." The look of controlled insanity on her face made Melody's skin crawl. "You seem to be forgetting that I saw him first. I liked him long before that stupid bitch ever even gave him the time of day. I would've given Chris the world if he asked me to; all Linda gave him was a fantasy that there was no way he could have held on to. Don't you see?" She grabbed Melody's sleeve. "I broke them apart because I love him enough to protect him." Melody shook her head.

"How can you be so heartless?" She asked softly, tugging her arm away from Anne's grip. Anne clenched her jaw.

"If that's what I am, then fine. But he'll thank me one day," she said with a nod and smile. "I know he will." With those last words, she walked off and left Melody to stare after her, the conversation ringing in her ears...

The end of term was quickly approaching and every student on the grounds was engaged in what seemed to be the largest joint cram session of their lives for final exams. Michael left his math class and walked out into the open corridor, looking around for Chris but he wasn't there. He sighed and started to stroll slowly toward the dorm house. A month had gone by since Linda left and Chris was no better off than the first day she was gone. It was actually quite frightening to watch Chris slowly disappear and be replaced by a former shell of himself, but Michael still held out hope that something, anything, would get his friend to snap out of his limbo state of mind.

He felt a body collide into him and without thinking about it, he grabbed the mysterious person to steady them as they swayed.

"Whoa, sorry-" he looked down and was shocked to see a familiar face staring back at him. "Linda?" He said disbelievingly, releasing her suddenly. Linda stumbled back, looking around wildly. "What are you doing here?" It took a minute for her to calm down, but her breathing finally relaxed and she swallowed.

"I was here to take my exams," she said shakily, fixing her gaze back on Michael. "I took them away from everyone else in the main office." Michael stared at her, lost for words to say. "Why isn't Chris with you?" She asked warily.

"I haven't seen him all day. He's probably hiding away somewhere." She fidgeted at his words, looking down to her feet and brushing her hand over shirt.

"How is he?"

"Why don't you ask him yourself?" She suddenly looked up and shook her head.

"I can't do that."

"Why not?" Michael asked as he clenched his jaw.

"I'm just here to take my exams; I'm supposed to leave right after I'm finished."

"You can't stay a few extra minutes?" She stared at him, seemingly confused at the edge of anger in his voice.

"I can, but I won't," she said tightly, starting to walk off.

"Oh, no you don't!" He grabbed her wrist, sharply tugging her back toward him. "You have to tell Chris you're here."

"No," Linda pulled her wrist out of his grip. "Do you know how much convincing I had to do to even come back within ten miles of here?" She asked. "Father has some of the professors watching me to make sure that I don't do anything foolish. I can't risk even trying to see him. Mike, please," she stressed. "You can't tell him you saw me." With a growl of frustration, Michael grabbed her shoulders and held her, shaking her slightly.

"Linda, you should see him. He's gone like a zombie since you left." She blinked and looked away. "He barely eats, he can't sleep and he hasn't written a thing." She closed her eyes at his words. "I swear to God, if you don't go find Chris and talk to him, I will make him come find you." Linda's eyes snapped open and narrowed to slits as she looked at him.

"Don't do that, Mike," she said tensely. "You'll only make things worse."

"Worse than they are now?!" Michael shook Linda harder, his anger taking complete hold of him. "Did you not just hear me say that Chris is about to waste away to a sack of bones over you?!" He practically shouted in her face. "Don't you care about the fact that he's miserable?!"

"I heard you." Linda pushed against his chest and stumbled back. "And of course I care, but you're not listening. I. Can't. See him."

"Because it will give him hope that you'll come back one day or because it'll break your heart to see him?" She took a deep breath.

"Both," she finally answered, backing up. "Please don't tell him you saw me." She pleaded one last time as she turned around to walk off, hugging herself as she fought back tears. She prayed that Michael was just exaggerating, that he was making things sound worse than they really were with Chris. She couldn't bear to think about what would happen if she saw him, what she would say or do if she saw him in such a condition.

As she walked across the courtyard and tried to gain a hold of her conflicting emotions, she felt a gaze burning into her back.

Against her better judgment, she stopped and turned to see Chris staring at her from the other side of the courtyard. Her heart plummeted to the ground as her eyes scanned him; he looked thinner and paler, the dark bags under his eyes and sharp cheekbones incredibly noticeable even from a distance. The intensity of his unbelieving stare made her panic and as his bag dropped from his shoulder, he took off at a dead run toward her, and she quickly turned back around and started to run away. She panted hard as she ran down the hillside and furiously looked around for a place to hide. Weaving off into the forest, she hid behind a large tree and held a stitch in her side, panting as quietly as she could as she heard his footsteps coming up fast.

His footsteps strolled around slowly for a few seconds and stopped. She closed her eyes, praying that he thought he was seeing things and would just leave without saying anything.

"Linda, I know you're here," Chris called, his voice sounding weak from the effort of running. "Don't worry; I won't make you come out from where you're hiding." She opened her eyes and panted quietly. "I just want to talk to you…you can just listen..." She waited, holding her breath.

"I...I. Miss. You. So. Much." He labored on each word, taking a shaky breath. Linda held her fist to her chest, biting her lip. "I feel like half of me is gone without you here, that part of my world is dead. I'm…not sure if that's a good thing or not. At least you have a piece of me to carry with you, but it's at the expense of my own misery." He took a deep breath.

"You look beautiful today." His voice brightened up a bit. "If I had known you were coming, I would've at least put on a better shirt." She smiled sadly and shook her head at his casual words; he was trying to make it feel as though it was just a normal conversation, that nothing had changed.

"I know," he started again, bitterness creeping into his voice. "That compared to you, I'm a blubbering idiot and that I didn't deserve our relationship...and that I didn't deserve you." She closed her eyes. "But that never mattered to me because when I looked at you…I didn't just see the genius that you are and that everyone can plainly see; I saw a woman -THE woman- that gave me a reason to exist. I saw the love of my life...and I saw my best friend." She clenched her dress in her fist, her face scrunching up as she held back a sob.

"I'm selfish when it comes to you, Linda," he continued. "I don't want to have to live my life without you, but I suppose...I have no choice at this point. All I ask is… when you finally find true happiness, please don't ever forget what we had…what we HAVE," he finished sadly. With those last words, his footsteps started to retreat. The silence that followed was tense and Linda peaked around the tree to see his back as he strode up the hill and back toward the university.

"Oh, Chris," she whispered as she hugged herself around the waist and turned around to walk farther into the forest, barely able to see through the thick veil of tears that burned in her eyes and hear over the echoes of her sobs...

Michael sighed and laid his head back against the wall. He still couldn't believe that Linda had been at the university and that she had refused to see Chris. He was pretty sure that if Chris ever found out that he missed his chance to see her, he would probably go mad. No, he wouldn't tell him. It was already hard enough to see Chris bleeding, much less adding an open wound to his ever growing list of emotional injuries.

As if right on cue, Chris walked into the room and shut the door behind him, sitting silently on his bed. Michael moved his pencil across his worksheet to feign working, but watched his friend from beneath his lashes.

Chris suddenly reached to open his bag and pulled out a small bundle, setting it next to him. To Michael's delight, two muffins revealed themselves and he tore one up into bite sized pieces, sniffing a piece before slowly putting it into his mouth.

"So you saw her, then."

Chris didn't reply, but continued to chew, staring off into an unknown space by the end of Michael's bed.

"How are we feeling about that?" Michael pressed, making Chris look at him in utter annoyance.

"You really should stop wearing so much cologne. It's making you smell like a dumpster." Though Michael knew he should've been offended, he couldn't help but smile at Chris's droll words with a hint -just a hint- of teasing.

"I'll tone it down next time," he replied with a soft chuckle. Chris laid back, putting the muffin on his chest to continue eating, thinking back to his words to Linda earlier. Seeing her even for just those few precious seconds was like a breathe of fresh air in the midst of being underwater. Even though she ran from him, he knew that it was for the best that she did; it would've hurt them both too much to be reunited for such a short length of time. And he wasn't sure that if he got a hold of her that he would be able to let her go again.

Linda looked well off, and all he ever wanted was for her to be happy.

"Even if it's not with me," he finished out loud in a low whisper.

"What?"

"Nothing." Chris turned his head and continued to eat small bites of muffin, gazing into the wall beside his bed and likening it to the canvas of his life without Linda: Blank. Empty. Meaningless.

"Miss Linda," Esther called from the other side of the closed bedroom door. "Your father is requesting to see you in his office."

From by the windowsill, Linda folded the worn piece of paper with Chris's poem on it and tucked it away again in the drawer by her bedside. As she passed by the mirror, she fluffed her curls and took a deep breath to steady her nerves. She and Ulysses had yet to speak more than a few words to each other since the confrontation at the university, and though she had been called down to her father's office before, it never ended well.

She followed Esther down the stairs and to the office, where Ulysses was busily typing on a typewriter. He looked up at the soft knock on the door.

"Oh, Linda, there you are." He leaned back from the typewriter. "Come, have a seat. Thank you, Esther."

With a quick curtsey, Esther took her leave and shut the door behind her. Linda slowly walked to the desk and took a seat in the chair that he motioned to, and fixed herself to sit as tall as she could, hands folded in her lap. For a few seconds, they stared at each other, and then Ulysses cleared his throat.

"How did your exams go?"

"Fine," Linda said simply, trying her best to sound as polite as possible.

"Good then, that's...good." They fell silent again, and Linda picked at a stray thread on her skirt. "I know that we haven't exactly been on the best of terms the last few weeks," he finally said, stroking the black, bushy mustache that graced the top of his lip. "I understand that how I acted toward you last month was...not exactly traditional."

Linda stared at him.

"In fact, you could go so far as to say that it was out of line," he continued with a thoughtful look on his face. "But you should understand that you were wrong to lie to your mother and I about what you were doing, Linda. We let you go to university so that you could get an education and further expands your talents in mathematics."

"Well, my apologies for doing that and also trying to partake in normal university life at the same time," Linda said flatly.

"We certainly didn't send you," he continued as though she hadn't spoken. "To carry on a secret relationship, especially with some-" he paused and Linda clenched her jaw.

"Some what?" she asked quietly, taking great care to stress each word. At the pressing silence to her question, she stood to her feet. "You know, Father, if this is some sort of apology that you're trying to make, forgive me, but I don't accept it." She spun around and walked toward the door.

"I've invited Paul over for dinner; he'll be here in a few hours. I expect that you'll be ready in time?" Her hand froze on the doorknob at the very casual and friendly inquiry and she scoffed.

"Do I even have a choice in the matter?" With more force than what was probably necessary, she slammed open the door and walked back down the hall to the stairs. As she paused at the staircase to try and collect herself from the amount of rage that was coursing through her entire body, she heard a small voice whisper from the deepest part of her:

You always have a choice.