The next morning, I wake to someone violently shaking my shoulders.
"Go away," I mutter, rolling over on my side and clutching at my plush blanket. This bed is way too comfortable to get up now.
"For the love of all things holy can you turn off that alarm!" I jump awake to see Katy hovering over me. Nick stands in the doorway of my dorm room with a coffee in each hand.
"Your alarm has been going off for the past twenty minutes. It's driving me crazy," Katy says. She flops back onto her bed and pulls a pillow over her head. "I don't understand how you are such a deep sleeper."
My alarm still rings in the background and I fish through the mess of sheets and blankets on my bed to find my phone and turn it off. This sadly isn't the first time that this has happened. I seem to have a pattern of sleeping through my alarms and waking up Katy instead. I'm surprised that she hasn't killed me yet.
The time on my phone is enough to instantly alert me. "Nick, we only have ten minutes until our final!" I jump out of my bed as fast as I possibly can. I currently am wearing my favorite Santa Clause print pajama pants and a sweatshirt, but it will have to do. My hair certainly looks like a bird's nest, but the only thing I have time to do is sling my heavy backpack over my shoulder.
"Nice pants," Nick snickers as I jog out of my dorm with him at my heels. I jab my finger at the elevator button over and over until the familiar ding of the arriving cart sounds. Once we are on our way down, I allow myself time to breathe. I lean against the wall from my exhaustion.
"You only ran for like thirty seconds. How are you so out of breath?" Nick laughs. I shoot him a death glare.
"What I want to know is why you aren't more concerned. We are about to miss our final. That is a fat zero!" I grab one of the coffee cups out of his hands and take a sip. My face instantly scrunches up. It tastes like burnt leaves and chalk.
"Gross. This is yours." I switch cups with him. Now when I sip I taste the familiar vanilla and hazelnut taste of my coffee. "Much better. I don't know how you drink that stuff."
"Yours only has like a drop of coffee. There is no caffeine in there. How does it even keep you awake?"
"It's not the caffeine that wakes me up. It's the sugar." The elevator doors open to the lobby, and I am on the move once more. Despite my speed-walking, I am still able to chug my coffee on the way to the lecture hall. By the time we reach the classroom we have two minutes to spare.
"Just in time. Like always." I say, turning towards Nick. Despite his constant harassment about my tardiness, I am still on time. When I tug at the doors, however, they are locked.
"Fuck!" I say, yanking at the doors with all my body weight. "We're too late. We're going to fail this class!" I fall to the ground, hugging my knees. "I can't believe this. All of that studying, and for what?" When I look up towards Nick to see his reaction, he is laughing.
"Are you serious? This is not a laughing matter!"
"Totally," he says, trying to hold in his laughter. His resolve doesn't last long however, because soon he is doubled over, clutching at his stomach as laughs erupt from his body.
"Are you a psychopath? We are getting F's! Fat F's!"
Nick's laughs subside just enough for him to squeeze out a few words. "Okay. I'm done playing with you. Check your phone."
Did he not pay attention to anything that has happened within the last twenty minutes? "I did, stupid. How would that change the fact that the final that we need to take is currently happening without us!"
"I swear you are the most stubborn person that I have ever met." He sighs and grabs my phone from my pocket and holds it up to my face. "Do you see anything interesting?"
"I don't care about what interests you right now! This is a crisis!"
"Jesus, Leighton just look at the time!"
I don't need another reminder of how late I am. But I know that Nick won't focus on the real problem at hand until I do. "I'm looking. It says 7:31."
"And the time of our final is..." Nick says.
I roll my eyes. "8 o'clock. I still don't see how that changes anything." He sends me an incredulous look, and it isn't until then that it finally clicks.
"We're early? How the hell did that happen?"
Nick smiles mischievously. "I may or may not have set your alarm thirty minutes earlier last night since I knew you would sleep through it." Part of me is mad at him for putting me through this stressful situation for no reason whatsoever. But for the most part, I am just extremely relieved that I am not going to fail Psychology.
I throw my hands around his neck and hug him tightly. "You're an actual blessing. You know that right?"
His hands snake around my waist as he hugs me back. "I know. You would be a mess without me."
I pull away from him, and my body instantly craves his touch again. "Technically we would have still made it. I should actually be mad at you for making me panic."
He waves his hand away dismissively. "Let's not focus on the negative. Now, are you ready for some last-minute review?" I crack my knuckles and whip out my flashcards.
"You bet your sweet ass I am."
***
"Someone better call Sigmund Freud, because there is a new master of psychology in town!" I hoot, skipping away from the lecture hall. Despite my many mental breakdowns over the last twenty-four hours, I absolutely aced the test. I didn't even have to look at Nick's bubble sheet to check my answers.
"Settle down, it's only Psych 100," Nick says. As we walk past a trash can, he chucks his binder inside. "I am so happy to never have to hear about psychoanalysis ever again."
"Cheers to that," I reply. I reach into my bag and throw my psychology binder inside the trash can as well. For good measure, I throw the rest of my folders in too. Most of my classes were only a semester long, so I should be fine. "I am just excited to eat at Francisco's tonight. With how much pasta I plan to eat, you are going to leave a very poor man."
"You can order as much as you want as long as you are ready by seven." He sends me a warning look. "I know how much you love being late, but they are very serious about being punctual to your reservation." I bat my eyelashes at him and try my best to look innocent.
"I have no clue what you're talking about."
He rolls his eyes at you. "You're lucky that you're cute."
When we arrive at our dorm, we each go our separate ways. Knowing Nick, he is probably playing video games with PJ or concocting some crazy plan to celebrate the end of the semester. Months of rooming with PJ has turned the two into partners in crime, and when left alone to conspire, they were almost certainly involved in some sort of mischief. Case-and-point: the toilet paper debacle of Halloween. Every hallway was littered with the thin, cloth streamers. The security went door to door asking who was responsible, but no one snitched. The mummification of the hallways was actually a pretty cool decoration. Much better than the cardstock pumpkins our RA hung up on the bulletin boards anyway.
Katy's bed is vacant, which is a common occurrence. She's usually off somewhere hanging out with her sorority friends or her asshat of a boyfriend who thinks that the idea of a date is inviting her to party at his frat house. Usually, her absence wouldn't bother me, but today is a special day. She has a special knack for styling me, and today her help would be especially useful. I guess I'm on my own.
I start off with the easy tasks that don't require too much thinking. I shower, and because our dorm building is like 100 years old, only two showers are working for the entire floor. I must not be the only person with plans on the last day of the semester, because the line for the bathroom is ridiculous. It isn't until after I take a two-hour nap that the line has died down. Afterwards, I blow-dry my wet hair and curl it into soft ringlets that flutter down the length of my back. The process is laborious on my shoulders, but worthwhile, nonetheless. My makeup is sweet and simple with champagne-colored eyeshadow and rosy blush that warm up my cheeks. Despite my mediocre skills, it actually looks pretty good.
But now the main problem I face is the dress. I'm torn between two options. One is a heather gray knit dress with a tie around belt that cinches my waist, and the other is a simple, well-fitted black dress that stops a little under mid-thigh. The fabric swoops down my back and exposes it while the front has a cowl neckline that settles just above the curves of my chest. The dress has to be perfect. Something about tonight feels special. I try on both, spinning and turning in the mirror. I know right way from the itchy material of the knit dress that it isn't the right one. When I slip the black dress over my head and adjust it around my hips, it's perfect.
I rummage through the top compartment of my closet. My hand finds forgotten shoes, extra pencils, and a framed photo of Bethany, Nathan, Jack, and I on jet skis at Bethany's lake house. I remember that day. It was taken the summer after my freshman year. Bethany only had three jet skis, so Jack offered for the two of us to share. As I sat behind him with my hands wrapped around his waist, the cool mist from the water splashing on my face as we zoomed over the lake's surface, I never thought that I would ever be happier than I was in that moment. When we docked and Bethany's mom insisted that she take a picture of us, my smile was stretched as wide as it could go.
These moments that made up my entire teenage years seem so distant now, like fleeting memories. I remember how important everything seemed back then. Getting invited to a party after homecoming or deciphering whether Jack's texts had a hidden romantic meaning seemed like life or death. Now, that day is nothing more than a moment captured behind dusty glass.
I push the frame aside and grasp blindly at another item. This time, it is exactly what I'm looking for. It's my black clutch with the diamond clasp that I only save for special occasions. The last time I wore it was the summer dance last August. Afterwards, I chucked it deep within the depths of my closet along with my pale-yellow dress. The magical feeling I once felt with those clothes were gone, instead replaced with bitter memories of heartbreak. I didn't even want to bring the purse with me to college, but my mom insisted that my suitcase couldn't consist of just sweatshirts and leggings, so I packed it. I tuck the clutch under my shoulder and look once again in Katie's full length-mirror. I lied before.
Now, I look perfect.
~~~
Sorry for the delay in uploading! I was working on another project that was taking a lot of time.
However, if you want to read the project, you can check out my story Mile High Club on the app Lure. It's an interactive script app where the choices you make influence the story! I spent a lot of time on it and I hope you enjoy it. Plus, if you're the type of reader who enjoys more mature content, this one is for you 😉
-K