Eva
Tap,tap, tap.
I flicked the wooden pencil between my thumb and forefinger, and the eraser landed with light thumps against the glossy pages of my neuroanatomy book. The first exam was only a few short weeks away, and I was already behind in my studies. A pile of blank flashcards sat on the back edge of my desk, taunting me. I didn’t know what was wrong with me. I was always great at studying, but this semester felt like torture. I couldn’t focus in class or when I was doing my homework.
I needed to get my act together. Application season was just around the corner, and the MCAT date Connor and I had chosen last semester was looming, and I hadn’t even cracked open the book yet. A dull ache pounded against the space between my brows. Stress was like a dark cloud that followed me constantly right now.
I glanced to the right, where my camera sat on the corner of the desk. I was cramming for neuroanatomy tonight because I had spent last night editing the entire stock of photos on my SD card instead of studying for my test. I knew it was a mistake, but editing always seemed to calm my nerves. And after Connor freaked out on me at Bloom 31, I’d been even more on edge.
“Ugh,” I sighed as I slammed the textbook shut and pushed back from my desk.
I wiped my hands over my face and through my hair. This wasn’t working. Since high school, my life had been expertly crafted. I had the perfect boyfriend. I was going to be a doctor. We were going to make a life together. Now, that plan was falling apart, and I had no idea what to do about it. It didn’t help that I kept letting myself become distracted. This was my final year of college. I was so close to the finish line. There was no time left for me to change my mind about my future career, even if I wanted to. Ihadto see this through.
I jumped on my bed, throwing my face into the pillow. Letting out a loud squeal, I kicked my feet against the mattress. I needed to go for a run to get rid of the tension, but it was already too late into the night.
My stomach rumbled against the mattress. I hadn’t eaten anything since lunch, and it was already past ten. Maybe a snack would help get rid of the headache that was still anchored behind my eyes.
Cold tile sent a shiver up my legs as I hopped out of bed and padded into the kitchen. Drema was in her usual spot by the window, hunched on her stool, staring at one of the landscapes she’d painted.
I popped open the fridge to find nothing but old Chinese food and condiments. “We really need to go grocery shopping,” I said to Drema.
She pivoted on her stool and wiped her forehead with the back of her hand. “I know. I’ve barely eaten anything all day because I didn’t want to make the trek out. Want to go tomorrow?”
“Yeah, we have to at this point—unless you want to eat ketchup straight from the bottle,” I offered, closing the fridge door to rummage through the freezer.
Thankfully, there were two pints of Haagen-Dazs ice cream—strawberry for Drema and cookies ‘n’ cream for me. I pulled out both pints and grabbed some spoons.
“Dinner is served!” I handed Drema her pint and spoon then plopped onto the sofa.
She swirled one of her brushes in a glass jar of muddy water before she joined me.
My stomach rumbled in appreciation as I spooned a mouthful of the ice cream out of the carton and into my mouth. I moaned as soon as the sweetness hit my tastebuds. Whoever created ice cream was a fucking genius. We sat there in silence for a few minutes, basking in the enjoyment of being adults who got to eat ice cream for dinner. I wouldn’t say it was better than childhood, but being an adult definitely had its perks.
“You know, those are some of the most beautiful paintings I’ve ever seen, Drema. You’re going to kill it at the exhibit,” I said between bites.
She shook her head and blushed. “Thanks,” she said before stabbing her spoon into the ice cream and setting it on the coffee table.
“I would love to display my photography someday,” I mentioned without thinking.
Drema’s face lit up. “You totally should! You know they have an exhibit every semester. You could submit your photos for the spring exhibit.”
Butterflies swirled in my stomach at the thought of having my photographs displayed for everyone to see. Then, reality struck as I remembered that I would be taking the MCAT during spring semester, leaving me no time to do anything else except study.
I sighed dramatically and wedged myself further into the corner of the sofa. “Everything is so fucked, Drema.”
Her brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”
I balanced the pint on my knees, not ready to be done with the ice cream just yet, and met her gaze. “For starters, I don’t know what the hell is going on with Connor. He’s been acting so strange ever since we got back for fall semester. He hardly has time for me, and he refuses to let me study with him, even though we used to study together all the time. It’s like he only wants me to be around when it’s convenient for him. And he’s turned into such an asshole when we’re with our friends.” I took a small bite of the ice cream and set it down on the coffee table. “Like the other night when we were all at Bloom 31. He gets drunk and refuses to kiss me then turns into a jealous asshole when he sees me dancing with Garth.”
Just as I said his name, heat pooled in my core, and I felt a little lightheaded. I wrapped my arms around my knees, pulling them further into my chest as I tried to steady myself. It drove me crazy how much Garth affected me. Anytime I thought about him, I lost total control over my body, no matter how hard I tried to play it off.
It was infuriating.
Yet, the feelings were unlike anything I’d experienced before. The intensity was so outrageous I imagined it was how trying a drug might feel like, the euphoric sensations traveling through your body, making you lose all sense of reality. It’s the only thing you want more of.Hewas the only thingIwanted more of. Memories of his hands on my waist as we danced made my breath hitch. The sensitive skin between my thighs pulsed and tingled with desire.
Drema’s voice broke through my hazardous thoughts, and my head snapped up toward her. “Can I be honest with you, Eva?” she asked.
“Of course you can,” I said as I scooted closer to her.