A Study in Drowning

by Ava Reid

“You clearly want to be in the literature college, Effy. And you deserve to be.” Effy could only stare at him. She had to remember to breathe, to blink. “You can’t be serious. I have a good memory—” “It’s more than that,” he said. “What do you think the other literature students have that you don’t?” Now he had to be toying with her. Hot, indignant tears pricked at her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. “Just stop it,” she bit out. “You know the reason. You know women aren’t allowed in the literature college. You don’t need to play some cruel, silly game—” “It’s an absurd, outdated tradition,” Preston cut in sharply. Effy was surprised at his vehemence. He could have repeated the same platitudes that all the university professors did, about how women’s minds were too insipid, how they could only write frivolous, feminine things, nothing that would transcend time or place, nothing that would last. “I didn’t think you’d care so much about a rule that doesn’t affect you at all,” she said. “You should know by now that I’m not a fan of doing things just because that’s the way they’ve always been done.” Preston set his jaw. “Or preserving things just because they’ve always been preserved.”