“You may turn the page and begin.”
Jacob’s fingers shook as he flipped the page. Tick tock, the time had begun. He remembered what his prep book told him; if he didn’t know an answer, he should just skip it, and it wouldn’t hurt his score. The air was thick with the sound of scratching pencils, the ticking of a clock, and the insurmountable pressure that had settled itself on every inch of the room.
His eyes darted from problem to problem on the first page. In his head, a voice repeated, if I do well on this, I’ll get into Lewis & Clark with Alex. If I do well on this, I’ll get into Lewis & Clark with Alex. Oh, how things would be so perfect if he could just skip all of this and get straight to the part where he shacked up with Alex at Lewis & Clark College, away from everything at home. Where everyone would accept him for who he was. But wait, that wasn’t going to happen. He was so stupid.
Jacob read over the word quandary. Where was this in the prep book? Since when was this a vocabulary word on his list? Tick, tock. Why was he so stupid?

He recalled two weeks earlier as he sat in the library, cramming in vocab words in a panicky fit. The lights were too bright and his books were big, and way too hard. Why was he so stupid? He was reaching his breaking point when Alex leaned over to him and said soothingly, “Hey, Jacob, things’ll be okay. You’ll go in there, sit down, and ace that test.” He reached over and placed his hand gently on Jacob’s as he said with sincerity, with a voice like honey, “I believe in you.”

Tick tock, tick tock. Jacob wiped his forehead. Why was this so much harder than the practice test he took two days beforehand? Why was he so stupid? I believe in you. Those words echoed through Jacob’s head with an aching sound, reverberating down through the empty hole in his heart. He was so stupid.

He needed to finish this, his time was halfway done. Instead, he traced the outline of Alex’s big brown eyes on his test booklet. Jacob had lost count of the times he got lost in those eyes over the three years he had secretly fallen, and was still falling, for Alex. And now all he could get lost in was the unknown meaning of these words. Tick, tock.

Quandary. What was quandary? Jacob knew he shouldn’t be taking so long on one answer. He only had 20 minutes, but what on earth was quandary? He could see, so clearly, Alex’s perfect lips forming the word as he whispered, “Quandary,” across the table in the silent library, as he selflessly passed his third period quizzing Jacob on his vocab to prepare for the looming SAT. He was always doing that for Jacob. Always supporting him when he needed someone. He was the most amazing boyfriend anyone could ask for. Jacob laid his head down on the table.
Tick, tock, tick tock. He jerked up. He needed to move on to something else. Why couldn’t his eyes just move from that word, quandary? Why was he so stupid? Focus, Jacob, he told himself as he turned the page. Just remember the flashcards you studied.
But as he stared down at the print on the page, all he could picture were Alex’s enormous eyes as he looked at him across the table during their study hall, the only time they could ever really spend together without the critical looks of students or parents. Who needed their judgmental eyes when he had a pair of perfect, big, brown ones right in front of him?
“Ephemeral,” Alex had read off of a bright yellow index card. His voice, which was normally drizzled out like honey, trickled on with great effort that day.

Jacob whispered back, “I don’t remember that one. What does it mean?”

Alex didn’t look at him. His voiced cracked as he said, “Short lived, fleeting. Listen Jacob,” he sighed, “We need to talk.”

Jacob was still shuffling papers and repeating to himself under his breath, “Ephemeral. Short lived, short lived, short lived.” He looked up at Alex and said, “Sorry, what did you want to say?”

Alex opened his mouth and began with, “Jacob, we-“ before Jacob cut him off.

He hurriedly shuffled through more papers and said to Alex, “Quandary. Quick, what is that? What is quandary?”

Alex looked at him morosely. “Jacob,” he said. “This is more important.”

“What is it? Did I miss another word?”

Alex stared at his feet. “No. Jacob,” he said yet again with a sigh, “This isn’t working. We can’t go on keeping this a secret. I’m breaking up with you.”

Jacob clenched his pencil tightly. If only he could just remember quandary. If only he could get into Lewis & Clark. He hurriedly sketched in random bubble answers as he heard the words, “You have five minutes remaining.” Maybe some of them would be right, and he could get into Lewis & Clark and Alex would love him again. But this surely wouldn’t work. Why was he so stupid? He laid his head down on his desk and thought of big brown eyes as the clock ticked away.