“Yes!” Her hands go up in the air and another drop of ranch lands on her shirt. “I’m already memorizing formulas. Now I need to memorize this shit too?”
She continues her rant. And when she’s done complaining about her difficult exams, she tangents off on how the finance bros still give her dirty looks in class but try to flirt with her by insulting her intelligence.
Once Rosie has gotten it all out of her system, it’s nearing dinner time. The alarm she set to send her back to studying went off at least thirty minutes ago.
“Sorry I talked your ear off, Lil.”
“Don’t even worry about it. That’s what friends are for.” I smile at her, and I mean it. With a friend like Rosie, I’d never complain about being there for her. It’d be hypocritical for me if I did, too, with how much she consoled me through this semester.
“Enough about me. What about your classes? How are you feeling?”
I shake my head and toss the empty platter in the trash. “Honestly, one of my calmest final weeks in a long time. I told you I finished my projects.”
She shrugs. “Yeah but you never know. You didn’t want to change anything?”
I’ve thought about that, too. I asked Kam how he felt when he finished his story, and he had an endless amount of positive descriptions. Proud was what he kept going back to, though.
I didn’t feel that way at all. Instinctively, I questioned myself. But after checking over the curriculum, I’m sure my story fits the assignment’s criteria.
Instead of opening the document and stressing myself out, I’ve decided to practice happiness. Indulging in hobbies. Relaxing myself before new classes start. What I produced should be enough to get me through the year.
“I think it’s fine the way it is. Besides, it’s due tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow? And you haven’t let me see it yet?” She holds her hand out and makes a gimme motion. “Hand it over.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Girl, don’t be embarrassed!” Heat reaches my ears. Despite knowing my story lives up to my peers’ expectations, I squirm at the thought of someone else reading it. Rosie will undoubtedly be kind, but the thought of her unraveling my words in front of me unsettles my stomach.
“It’s just an assignment.”
“If that’s the case, then you shouldn’t care if I read it.” Her nose turns up triumphantly. I pretend to dust off the table to ignore her. “Let me read one page, please? I know it’s going to be so cute.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do!” She claps her hands together and bends to look up at me with large brown eyes. “Please, Lil. Please please please please please please-”
Repetition is my weakness. She knows that better than anyone. I groan. “Okay, fine! But only one page!” Rosie jumps up, high fives herself, and I go to search through my tote bag.
When I reach into the zip pocket where my USB is kept, it’s empty, and my eyebrows furrow.
Rosie calls over my shoulder, “What do you want to eat for dinner?”
I move around my notebook, my pencil case, my planner. Nothing. “Uh, I don’t know. Any ideas?”
“Is there anything you definitely don’t want to eat?”
My USB isn’t at the bottom of my bag, either. A flicker of anxiety ignites, but I tamper it down, unzipping my pencil case and looking through the bow pencils and cute figure erasers.
“Um, no. I’m cool with anything.”
It’s not in my pencil case. I throw it to the side and reach into the small inner pocket of the bag. I rarely use it for anything, sometimes cash if I happen upon it, but it’s completely empty. Sweat starts building on my forehead.
“Are you open to take-out?” Rosie asks, but I can’t register the words.
I take every book out my bag, shaking the pages in some chance that my USB has wedged its way inside. Rosie repeats her question when I’ve ripped everything out of my wallet.
“Don’t care.”
