Candy Hearts | Watty's 2015

| 21 | Saturday, December 12

|  2 1  | Saturday, December 12

Arizona's diet used to consist of ramen bowls. It's the week before finals. Now, her diet consists of a coffee and pretzels. She swears she's lost weight again. So much for freshman fifteen, it's probably become something like freshman negative forty, by now. Every day she discovers a new pimple on her forehead, and she hasn't watched a sitcom in what feels like forever. She doesn't think she'd be able to sit and be calm, anyway.

            Every night, Cora video chats Arizona to fret about, worrying about whether her daughter's eaten, yet—"Yes" (see: no)—and whether she's okay there, on her own—"I miss you guys" (see: but I fucking love living on my own).

            Arizona had run into Jacob at the grocery one night, when she'd been picking up a package of coffee. She's blurted out that she'd been having trouble, and asked if he'd like to study with her. He'd said yes. Arizona's chest was a drum. They'd decided to meet at the campus library at eight, after dinner, on Saturday night.

            Later, she'd seen him kissing a girl in aisle seven, and Arizona had recognized the perfectly golden tresses. The girl had been in sweats and a tight sweater, and Arizona knew that if you kissed in the middle of aisles and went late-night grocery shopping together in your sweats, there was just one label you could put on your relationship.

             Now, she shifts around, adjusting the bag's strap looped over her shoulder, and the holder of coffees in her right hand. She said she would bring coffee, so she brought coffee. She struggles for a second, trying to get a hold of the doorknob with all the textbooks and hot drinks in her hands. Letting out a breath when the door unlatches, Arizona turns to push against it, and she stumbles in. Jacob said he would be on the second level, near the back of the room, where there are long, mahogany tables. There are a few students sitting around, two talking in hushed voices, everybody else totally concentrated on textbooks and laptops.

            Jacob isn't here, yet, so Arizona sets her things down on an empty table, flicking the lamp close to her on. There are a lot of windows in the library, and she can see the winter outside, at the white everything. Unzipping her jacket, she drapes it over the back of her chair and untangles the scarf from her neck, putting it down beside her. There are dark splotches on her jeans, where snow had melted, and her face is probably all red from the cold.

            Arizona stares outside for a few minutes before blinking herself out of the reverie and starting up her laptop. Her fingers tap on the desk as she waits for it to launch. Her hands fly up to her face, and she finds her face tired under her fingerpads, thumbs sinking into dark circles, index fingers running over small bumps. She's completely void of makeup today, and is regretting it, because now Jacob will see this. But, when he sits down across from her a minute later, he looks at her no different, and Arizona soon forgets about her lack of makeup.

            "Hey," he smiles at her, sliding his laptop out from his satchel. His nose is pink, and his hair is mussed, little pieces of snow still stuck to it. Arizona bites down on her lips, hard.

            "Hi."

Jacob's eyes flit to the lone coffee left in the cardboard holder.

            "Oh, is this for me?"

            "Yeah, I...yeah."

            "Thanks."

            "Sure."

Arizona swallows and looks back at her keyboard.

            "So." Jacob sips at his coffee and puts it down again, before sliding his black jacket off. He's wearing a gray waffle shirt underneath, and it clings to his chest so perfectly Arizona might throw up. "What do you want to start with?"