Mitch: hey why'd you call
Me: idk sorry i didn't mean to
Mitch: something up?
Me: no not really
Mitch: anything wrong?
Me: i'm just kinda stressed out
Mitch: what about?
Me: i have an essay due tomorrow worth 30% of my grade
Me: i haven't even started it i'm so nervous
Mitch: you'll be ok nat :(
Me: i don't know
I put my phone down with a sigh. I went to put it across the room to hopefully eliminate a distraction, but I doubted it would make much of a difference.
I sat on my bed again with my laptop in front of me, staring at a blank document. I don't know where I'd get any inspiration from. But I did know I had to start now.
I started with a basic outline, pushing myself to keep going. After I laid out all my ideas I had to stop. That alone took me an hour. Ten o' clock already. Where was the time going?
I sighed, knowing I had to take a break. Right as I put my laptop down, though, there was a knock on my door. I stood up, opening the door just a sliver to reveal a familiar face.
"I brought us food." Mitch greeted me, holding up the box in his hand, and I couldn't help but smile.
I opened the door, letting him in. "You could've at least warned me, I would've changed out of my pajamas." I say, taking a seat on my bed.
"It's okay." he says, sitting opposite me and putting the box between us. "So... vent to me."
"Vent?" I repeat, not sure if I had heard correctly.
"You're stressed?" Mitch asks.
"I'm really stressed." I sigh. "University's hard. And I have no more motivation. I could just drop out, y'know, marry rich." I shrug.
"But you're not gonna do that." Mitch says, putting his hands on my shoulders. "Look how far you've come already. And you're gonna let an essay ruin everything?" he asks.
I frown, looking down. "I don't know why I can't do it. I, I can't focus, I've lost all my motivation. I don't know what's happened." I sigh, feeling a bit choked up.
Mitch stayed silent, just listening. "Maybe what you needed was a friend." he says quietly. "I'm going to help you." he says, gently pushing my chin up to look at him. "And you're gonna do this. Tonight. And you're gonna ace it, okay?" he smiles.
"I'm so happy you're here." I smile, leaning over to pull him into a hug. The Leafs had just came off a 3-game winning streak, and the next game they'd be playing was in two days from now, at home. That meant I still had lots of time before they were on the road. Sometimes I believed their schedule was a blessing in disguise.
"How long's the essay?" Mitch asked.
"It's five pages." his eyes widened. "It's not that bad. It's just, finding the right way to communicate your ideas in five pages is hard." I explain.
"Okay..." he starts, pausing to think. "How about this. I sit here, and you work. For every page you write, you get a cupcake. I brought lots." he smiles.
