Phillip
I run my fingers over the lines. I want him to write the words I feel in my heart. I leave the warmth of his bed and get dressed. The flower and note are tucked in my bag, as well as the hoodie that smells like him from the front hall. I pour myself a mug of coffee—he brewed me a fresh pot before he left—and take the subway back to campus. I get in half an hour of study time, so at least it’s not time wasted.
I meet Arya and Charles at the theater for our first dress rehearsal slot. It does not go seamlessly. “I’m sorry I’m so off. This is all me.” I kept flubbing the routine, and every screw up feels insurmountable. We only made it through once without any issues, but even then, it still wasn’t perfect.
“It’s okay. We have two more rehearsal sessions on stage to get it all down. You’re under a lot of pressure, Tally. We will get it right and everything will be fine,” Arya assures me.
“You’re right. We have time. We know this routine.” I’m so on edge, struggling to keep it together.
I drop them off at their apartments, but have to circle back to the studio because I forgot to leave the key in the lockbox for my classmates. Normally I’m not this scattered. Once I’m home, I settle in to study for my written exams. My marks aren’t quite as strong as I would like, so again, the pressure is on. The swirlinganxiety over how Phillip and I left things makes it tough to focus.
I drink chamomile tea and do a calming meditation, but I’m so wiped out from the stress of it all that I fall asleep and don’t wake until midnight.
The apartment is dark and quiet. My door is open enough for Parsnip to come and go as he pleases. He’s currently lying on my Phillip pillow, paw over his eyes.
I reach for my phone and see that I missed three video calls and several messages from Phillip while I slept.
Flip
Landed. I’ll message when I’m settled in the hotel.
Had to get on the ice basically right away. Sorry it’s been a bit. How are you? Did you get the flower?
Everything okay? Message when you get this.
Cammie told me you were passed out hard with a textbook on your chest. I’ll try to message before your exam tomorrow. I sent over some East Side’s in case you need study fuel. Heading to bed because we’re on the ice early tomorrow.
The missed opportunity feels like an omen that sends me back into a worry spiral. Little things feel huge. Once I’m calm enough, I heat up some of the food he had delivered while reviewing notes. It’s not exceptionally productive since I’m still drowsy from my four-hour nap. After my exceptionally late dinner, I try to go back to sleep, but I’m wide awake. Staring at the ceiling won’t help, so I study until three in the morning, then force myself to close my eyes. My exam is at eight thirty, and I can’t risk conking out in the middle of it because I pulled an all-nighter. Besides, I have dance practice in the afternoon and morestudying in the evening for exam number two. I set my alarm for seven thirty, and toss and turn for a while. The last time I look at the clock, it’s just after five.
“Talls?” Fee shakes on my shoulder. “You have to wake up! Your exam is in less than half an hour.”
I sit up in a rush. “What? I set my alarm for seven-thirty.” The clock on my nightstand doesn’t lie, though. It’s after eight.
I throw off my covers. “Fuck. It takes fifteen minutes to walk across campus.”
“What if you drive?”
“Parking will eat whatever time I save.”
“I’ll drive you over. Get dressed, and I’ll make you a coffee and bagel.”
“Fuck!” I’m so sick of being on the emotional ledge.
“It’s okay. You have time. You won’t be late.”
I shove the panic down, throw on jogging pants and a hoodie, brush my teeth, pull my hair into a topknot, and ignore my puffy eyes. There’s nothing that can be done.
Fee meets me at the door with coffee, a bagel, writing implements, and my phone, which I apparently forgot in my room. “Deep breath, you’ll be okay.”
She opens the door and we nearly trip over a takeout bag from my favorite bakery. Fee thwarts a Parsnip escape, grabs the bag, and ushers me down the hall.
“Do you want to talk or will that just make it worse?” Fee asks.
We hop in my car and I check my alarm. “I set it for seven thirty p.m. instead of a.m.”
“It’s happened to all of us. You’ll be okay,” she reassures me.
“I’m so glad you were there to wake me up.”
