Chapter 411 Ruining Reputation
I checked out the forum that had already moved on from me, and I couldn't help but find it kinda funny.
I wondered if Elliot could handle all those questions.
We hadn't even confirmed the collaboration yet, and I had already caused a mess for Elliot. Totally my bad.
Everyone at National Capital University knew Elliot was so into his studies that he never publicly mentioned having a girlfriend.
It was only much later, by chance, that I found out Elliot was just really good at hiding it.
Mia's words were basically a rumor that trashed Elliot's reputation.
Still my fault. I should apologize again.
I grabbed my phone and sent another message: [I'm sorry, Elliot. I didn't say that, it really wasn't me.]
Elliot replied quickly: [My reputation is already ruined by you. It's useless to apologize. You might as well introduce me to a girlfriend.]
Elliot was handsome, talented, and rich. Finding a girlfriend for him should be a piece of cake. There were so many beautiful and talented girls at school, but he didn't seem interested in any of them. What kind of girl would be good enough for him?
Even though I'd been at National Capital University for a while, my social circle was tiny because Brad took care of me. Besides Mindy, the only other person I was close to was Blair Ember, a quiet and reserved girl.
Blair was 5'5", slim, always wore a ponytail, and dressed in various sportswear all year round. She wore big black-rimmed glasses and was always buried in her studies. She never even glanced at any boy.
Introduce Blair to Elliot? But knowing Blair's personality, who only showed emotion when reading, I quickly dismissed the idea.
Oh, and I should mention, Blair had a particularly mysterious waist.
No matter what Blair wore, her waist always looked loose, making people want to pinch it to see just how slim it was. But no one had ever dared to do so.
I didn't have a suitable candidate to recommend, so I replied to Elliot: [Alright, Elliot, as soon as I find a suitable candidate, I'll introduce her to you. The premise is that I have a suitable one.]
Elliot: [Looking forward to your good news.]
He wasn't being polite at all.
I had made my helplessness so obvious, how could Elliot pretend not to understand? He was deliberately making things difficult for me.
I didn't have time to keep up with the forum, so I went back to the study to continue reading the materials I had found earlier.
When a person was focused on something, time often flew by.
By the time my neck was sore and I wanted to stretch, it was already past eleven at night.
I picked up my phone and opened Facebook. The News Feed was quiet, with none of my hundreds of friends posting anything. Disappointed, I turned off my phone and went to the bedroom to wash up.
Alright, I admit, I was actually waiting for Brad's response.
After the incident with Adam, Brad responded to me through a post. This time, with the commotion between Elliot and me, Brad couldn't have missed it. I was waiting for him to post something, to give me a response.
That way, I would be as happy as if Brad were right beside me.
But Brad didn't respond.
Brad must be too busy to check the forum. He'll definitely post something when he sees it.
Even if he didn't post tonight, there was still tomorrow. I wasn't in a hurry.
I lay in bed, hugging Brad's pillow, breathing in the faint scent of Brad, and gradually fell asleep.
I barely had any classes left, maybe one or two a week. The rest of the time, everyone was busy with projects, prepping their theses, or starting their own businesses.
I often daydreamed about opening an art studio someday—a big, bright room with a courtyard that had a well. The courtyard would have flowers and plants, and a set of wicker chairs. In my downtime, I'd brew some fancy tea, sip it while admiring the paintings. How awesome would that be?
When my friends heard about my plans, they laughed and said that even though I was only twenty-three, I had the mindset of an eighty-year-old. They joked that while my body was young, my heart was already retired.
I didn't argue with them; everyone had their own way of living.
Brad was super supportive. He said he'd work hard for ten years to earn enough for our future, and then spend every day with me, fishing, gardening, painting, and enjoying the scenery.
He promised to buy a house with a courtyard in a place I liked and set up an art studio for me, letting me do whatever I wanted.
But then, a lot happened, and I realized that people had many loved ones and friends they couldn't just leave behind. We were always willing to do everything for those we cared about deeply.
I stayed at school, waiting for two years, which was the first thing I did for Brad.
The art studio could wait. For now, I needed to focus on researching new paint formulas.
The project had already been approved, the funding was basically secured, and I had found a partner. The next step was to set up the lab.
Since the project was initiated by the school, the lab had to be on campus, which meant I had to talk to Professor Evans.
Professor Evans had obviously anticipated this. When I knocked on his office door, he put down his pen, grabbed his coat, and took me outside.
I asked, "Professor Evans, where are we going? I need to discuss something with you."
Professor Evans replied, "You'll see when we get there. Just follow me."
I followed Professor Evans for about twenty minutes and arrived at a small courtyard.
The courtyard was surrounded by a tall fence covered in dense climbing plants that looked like roses. Inside the courtyard were three small bungalows with red tiles and white walls. Under the eaves of the leftmost house was a small bird's nest. I wondered if there were any birds living there this season.
"Figure out a way to make a sign and hang it here," Professor Evans said, pointing to a large flat stone at the entrance. "For the next year and a half, this will be your lab."
To be honest, I was a bit overwhelmed.
An independent courtyard for my lab, and for a year and a half? Professor Evans was really too kind to me.
Among all the grad students, I was probably the only one with such treatment.
"Thank you, Professor Evans." My voice choked up. I couldn't think of any way to repay him, so I could only say thank you.
Professor Evans looked at my eyes and smiled, "Moved to tears? Do a good job, produce some results, and bring me glory."
"Wouldn't Rafael be better at bringing you glory?"
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