What We Take Away

Chapter 27 | Cassie

February 9th, 2006

Sabrina is a shell, her light dim and frail since her return from Martinique.

The tiled floor of our room is cold beneath my bare feet as I return to our room. Water drips down from my damp, freshly showered hair when I move to shut the door.

I shuffle over to my dresser and dig around for a change of clothes. A soft rustle sounds from the top of the bunk bed, but I know she won't rise for another few hours.

She's been sleeping a lot since she came back.

It's not jet lag, I think worriedly to myself. Martinique sits in the same time zone as the East Coast. Did something happen to her while she was abroad?

I tug on an oversized sweatshirt and wriggle into some jeans. There are so many questions I'd like to ask her, mostly pertaining to love and relationships and why it feels like I'm constantly doing something wrong when I'm with Aram. She would be able to tell me if I've unknowingly committed some relationship faux pas due to my lack of romantic experience. And she'd also be able to tell me if what I feel for Aram is real love, like the kind she has with Greg.

She'd be able to tell me all these things and more, if only she were in a talking mood.

Snapping the buttons on my coat, I glimpse over to Sabrina's sleeping form once more before heading out the door.

I hope she's okay.

Outside, the morning winter air is numbingly cold. Despite the frigid temperatures, students shuffle in and out of Pelican dressed in thin pajamas and sandals. Breakfasts have become a solitary affair for me without Sabrina, Ranjit, and now Zac. But I ignore the loneliness and locate a corner in the dining hall to drink my coffee in peace.

I gaze out the big, foggy window and sigh. Spring semester marks the return of my arch nemesis, the Hahn from Hell and her harrowing class and lab write-ups. What I wouldn't give to take another class with Dr. McLeish and spend my days in the gorgeous atrium of Crane Recital Hall, meeting friends in practice rooms, and rehearsing in that breathtaking concert hall...

What a fool I was to take that composition class.

Not only did Dr. McLeish give my original compositions her highest praise, but she also invited me to consider auditioning to the music program next year. Without meaning to, she had dangled my dream right in front of me, not knowing my hands were tied behind my back.

That dream ended when I realized Ba would not love me if I didn't pursue a worthy career, and I cemented its death the moment I ripped up my admission letter from Eastman.

A tear squeezes out of the corner of my eye. I've made a terrible mistake by letting myself hope.

I wipe my face with my arm and drain the rest of my burnt coffee. I'll need all the fuel I can get if I want to survive another thrilling morning with the Hahn from Hell.

---

The honors chemistry classroom in Cassowary Hall is emptier now than back in the fall.

Apparently, Dr. Hahn is more effective at weeding out stragglers than Ba's luxury weedkiller in the spring. I pick out a seat in the third row and wait for the lecture to begin.

Seconds after I sit down, a pair of sturdy, brown arms encircle me from behind. I smile instantly at the spicy, woody cologne and spin around.

"Ranjit!!"

I hug my friend fiercely and squeeze my eyes shut.

"Missed you too," he grins, tousling my hair. "Were you at the dining hall this morning? I didn't see you!"