A New Reflection

33. Finals

In the middle of finals week, I come down with a high fever, burning throat and unrelenting headache. Throughout high school, I had perfect attendance and rarely got sick, but when I did it was always during the holidays. My body has a way of holding out and making it through important tasks before allowing itself to break down. This time, I decompose one day early.

The Spanish final on Monday is straightforward, and my thorough preparation pays off as I zip through the multiple choice questions as well as the short answers.

The following day, I take my Inventing America exam, which consists of three full-length essays based on prompts that Professor Sharp had provided to us a week in advance. I prepared the most for this exam out of any others, and I leave class feeling solid about the responses I produced.

I arrive on Wednesday morning to my jazz appreciation class with a hint of a tickle in my throat, and by the time I finish the exam, my tonsils have ballooned to twice their regular size. My final for literature is an open-book, take-home exam which opens for exactly three hours on Canvas. I consider stopping by the campus market for Advil, but I'm anxious about losing even one minute of work time, so I rush back to my dorm instead and log into my laptop. I regret this decision as the headache swells, causing my vision to go dizzy. Honestly, I can't recall having been this sick since early childhood, when I used to get strep throat all the time.

Through sheer grit, I type out responses to the six short answer prompts and two full-length essays, tears streaming down my cheeks as I work. I keep it together only because I know it will all be over soon.

With only five minutes remaining in the testing window, I submit my responses and break down crying aloud. My brain is a massive, muddy ache, and I'm not certain if I just analyzed the themes of James Joyce or wrote an essay about fish skin. I'm worried about my grade plummeting from this exam, but mostly I am embarrassed about submitting gibberish to my professor and looking like an idiot.

After a brief cry, I compose myself, blow my nose and lie down to rest. As I drift off to sleep, my phone begins pinging with messages from my friends celebrating the end of finals. By this evening, everyone will be finished.

Let's go have dinner downtown! Ethan sends to Isla, Elia and me.

Fun! Let's do it! responds Elia.

Yesssss!!!!! Isla chimes in.

They continue bantering and sending stupid GIFs, and I start to laugh aloud at one until the blisters in my throat feel as though they are cracking open and bleeding into my esophagus.

Nati, are you alive? Ethan asks after a while, when I don't join the conversation. I attempt to respond but give up when I realize my entire body is aching and shivering. I conk out for a few minutes, waking up to the incessant notifications buzzing through.

Shit, is she in exams still? asks Elia. Hope you have your phone turned off, Nati!

She should be done by now, Isla comments. Natalia Stevens!!! Are you there???

I laugh again, the sound escaping like the groan of a yeti.

I'm dying, I say with a skull emoji.

Huh? Ethan responds immediately.

I have strep throat or something. I can't move my body.

Oh my God! Everyone begins lamenting my current state and the fact that I won't be able to join for dinner and tonight's drunken shenanigans. I drift back off to sleep with a cloudy head that pounds with pain, FOMO and intense contentment.