chapter thirty

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"I don't get it. We're a month and a half into the semester, I just got a fucking C minus on our last midterm, and I've gained, like, five pounds, and I'm still not used to this class."

It wouldn't have been eight a.m biochemistry with Aimee if she wasn't complaining about something. She reserved the last row of the first section of the lecture hall for us—our unassigned assigned seats, as we called them—specifically so Professor Williams couldn't hear her talk her way through every one of his classes.

I couldn't bring myself to tell her that the C kind of made sense...

"Aimee, look, I'm gonna get philosophical here, since that's what five hours of sleep and no coffee does to me," I began, tilting my head up to the screen to jot down the last structure our professor was fervently explaining. "Life is all about adapting. You go from unknown to unknown, but eventually, the unknown becomes the familiar. Look at me; I was sure Ben, and I would remain mortal enemies for the rest of my life, and now he's my literal boyf—well, knowing my parents, he'll be my husband soon enough. Anyway, if that's not change, I don't know what is."

"But I want to take care of animals and see cute puppies and dogs for a living, not study hexagons," she cried, sinking further into the plush seat, almost to the point that it folded in half onto her stick-thin self.

"You know, you could always just become a professional dog walker instead of a veterinarian," I joked, a smirk hidden behind the curtain of my long hair. She slapped my arm.

"You're supposed to encourage me, Samar," she snapped and finally opened her notebook. "Oh, whatever. I'm glad you and Ben are working out. Relationships are a no-go for me right now, ever since my strict Irish Catholic great aunt stayed over for winter break and somehow convinced me to take a vow of abstinence."

My jaw dropped. "Are you serious?" If there was anything Aimee did more than complaining, it was talk about sex.

"I know," she whined and then gestured to her leggings and sweatshirt clad self. "Why do you think I literally look like a whale? Food is my only love right now."

"You're not a whale," I comforted her for what felt like the fifth time this week. Maybe this is why they said not to be best friends with your roommate.

"Alright, students, I'll see you for Friday's lecture. Make sure to study up on amino—" Professor Williams couldn't even finish his sentence before all two-hundred students stood up at once, and a cacophony of slamming desks and chatter fled the room. Aimee and I took our leisure leaving, since we didn't have another class until twelve. As we ambled into a surprisingly pleasant early March morning outside, my phone buzzed in my jacket pocket.

 As we ambled into a surprisingly pleasant early March morning outside, my phone buzzed in my jacket pocket

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"Who is it?" Aimee asked, poking her head over my shoulder. I showed her the text, and she proceeded to fake vomit onto a melting patch of snow on the grass. "God, he's so cheesy already?"

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