"Julianna!" Mark knocks on my door, and I quickly open it, surprised by his presence. "Hey, all set?" he asks with a bemused look. "When did you arrive?" I inquire, wondering how he managed to pack up so quickly. "Just within the last five minutes." "You're ready to go already?" I shake my head, somewhat incredulous. "Typical guy," I sigh, prompting a laugh from Mark as he points down the hallway. I thought I was a low-maintenance person, but apparently not. "Are you ready to head out?" Mark turns to Kent, who lets out a sigh, grabs his phone, keys, and wallet, and joins us as we leave the apartment. "So, how do you know Abby?" I ask Mark, grateful for the opportunity to chat with someone new. "We met her during our freshman year, and I'm sure you'll get along with her," Mark replies with a reassuring smile. "She's a nice and laid-back person." "Is she friends with Piper and the others?" I inquire, curious. "Not really friends, no," Mark explains. "We hang out occasionally, bu
The party seems to be going smoothly so far, with lots of fun and minimal issues. I've struck up a great rapport with Abby, and I'm gradually making new acquaintances and forging new friendships. Kyle finally arrives home from work and immediately heads to the dining room to join a game of beer pong. From the living room, I can hear commotion, and Abby seems to notice it too. We both turn our heads to investigate. "Try not to look now," Abby mutters, disgruntled, as Piper and her entourage saunter in. They all look stunning in short skirts, halter tops, and glistening gold jewelry. A cloud of perfume appears to follow them wherever they go. "If you don't like them, why invite them?" I inquire of Abby, who chuckles. "Because dealing with their anger and drama would be worse than just tolerating them," she explains with a shrug as they head towards the ping-pong table. I roll my eyes in response. "Elle!" she calls out, and I spot a blonde girl with wavy hair stacking empty cans on
"Oh, that makes sense," he chuckles, tinged with a hint of sadness. "It'll get easier," he assures me, though I find it hard to believe, a feeling that lingers. "So, what did you say your number was?" He retrieves his phone, breaking my thoughts. I feel the need to inquire, "What do you mean when you say it's pretty normal?" I hate myself a little for being so distracted. This guy is clearly making an effort to engage with me, yet I'm not fully present. "It happens every time our group goes to a party or drinks," he explains, reiterating what Abby had already mentioned. "The problem is he never talks to her or acknowledges her. Instead, he takes advantage of her, and she thinks they're something more." "Has he done this to other girls?" I need to uncover the truth, even though I realize Abby was trying to be polite. "Since the first day I met him," he shakes his head. "Some people have a lot of baggage or secrets resurface when they drink, and I think that's his way of trying to pu
The first day of school is finally behind us, and I couldn't be happier. It's been a challenge to get back into the routine, but I've cherished the respite from the apartment and the decreased encounters with Kent. This semester, my schedule was packed with classes, although thankfully devoid of presentations, group projects, or labs that would require physical exertion. Pursuing a degree in the arts brought its own unique set of challenges – readings, class discussions, active participation, and consistent attendance. It's all fun and games until you're faced with three 40-page articles for a single class. This year, I also attended seminars. They were a requisite for my degree, but they proved to be intense, intimate, and somewhat intimidating. These seminars placed substantial pressure on contributing original ideas and opinions during class discussions, a task that didn't quite align with my naturally shy and apprehensive disposition. In addition to academics, I juggled a part-t
"Mr. Matchmaker, tell me about the type of girl you'd consider dating," I say as I sigh and shut down my laptop, figuring we can continue our conversation here at home. "Who knows? Maybe someone fun. I just don't have the time to go out with anyone," he replies, highlighting how his busy schedule revolves around training and traveling for games. "Given my hectic life, I think she'd need to be easygoing and laid-back. I'm easy to get along with and talk to." "Good with people, huh?" I ask with a chuckle. "We're not talking about a pet here; we're discussing a girlfriend." "I'm sure you get it," we both laugh, and I respond with a casual shrug. "But yeah, just someone who's pleasant and goes with the flow." "I understand; that makes sense," I nod in agreement. Chase certainly embodies an easygoing demeanor, something I sometimes find hard to fathom. "But you're not actively searching for a date," I reiterate what he's already mentioned. "No, but you never know when something good m
"Julianna!" I awoke to the sound of Mark's voice cutting through the stillness of the morning. Sunlight streamed in through my window, and the clock indicated that it was almost ten—not too early for a Saturday. Groggily, I muttered, "What?" while rolling over and pulling the covers up to my chin. A late-night study session had left me feeling fatigued, even on a weekend morning. Mark's persistence in his quest to enter my room was evident in his voice. "Can I come in?" I sighed before begrudgingly granting permission. "Fine," I grumbled, my attempt to return to slumber thwarted. Weariness clung to me from the previous night's study session. As Mark entered my room, the half-hearted glance I gave him conveyed my reluctance. "What's up?" I managed, my eyes barely open. A chuckle escaped Mark as I moaned in response. "Not a fan of early mornings, huh?" I shook my head, my voice still groggy with sleep. "Why are you here, and what do you want?" Mark continued to chuckle. "Today, we
Sitting still was a challenge, and my stomach ached. I typically got car sick on long trips, but short ones like this rarely affected me. However, I knew that staring out the window and not eating wouldn't alleviate the discomfort. I swallowed several times, but the need for fresh air became overwhelming. I pressed the button to open the back window, allowing some air into the car. "Damn it," Kent grumbled, covering his ear. "Turn that off; it's buzzing too loudly and hurting my ears." I understood his concern but wrote it down to confirm. "Could we open all the windows or do something else to make it more comfortable?" I inquired. "Why would I do that when it's hot outside and cool inside my car?" He responded, though I avoided making eye contact. "Do you know anything? I don't need to prove my point, it's my car, and my rules," he concluded bluntly before pushing the button on the driver's door. I observed as the window ascended. "Kent!" I protested, holding the button down to p
The warmth in September caught me by surprise. Once we arrived, Kyle and Mark retrieved the cooler from the trunk and led the way down the path to the lake. I began to sweat within just a couple of minutes of walking. I didn't particularly like how it looked, and it only fueled my desire to take a dip in the water. Though we were on our way to the beach, the group of friends known as the clones had beaten us there. As we approached the clearing between the trees, Kent muttered something under his breath. Seeing Abby, Chase, Darren, Ellis, and Sydney among the group eased my apprehension about the trip. Abby greeted me with a big smile as soon as I arrived. "Yay! I'm so glad you came, Julianna!" I couldn't help but chuckle at her enthusiasm. "This is going to be the best!" "I'm delighted to see you again," I replied, sharing her smile. "Come on, lay down your towel, and let's kick off our beach day!" She instructed with unwavering enthusiasm. One cooler was from Mark and Kyle's apa
After 2 years... Kent "Today has to be perfect." I've been super busy preparing for this day for the last few weeks. It has to happen tonight, or she'll suspect something's up. Juls is getting her master's degree today, and I've never been prouder. She's incredibly smart, always reading or researching. That pile of library books in our office never seems to shrink. She's applied to Ph.D. programs all over, but I think she'll stay at Brown. I'm okay with that because I don't want anything to change about our lives. Well, except for one thing that I hope to change today. I finished my MBA a few months ago and started working full-time downtown. I'm in marketing for now but aiming for investment banking and trust. I know my path, and with time and connections, I hope to take care of us. Juls keeps saying she'll stay in school because she doesn't know what else to do, but I think it's the other way around. School and academia bring out her best. Her eyes light up when she learns some
"We're almost there," Kent insists, turning on his car's signal. I feel like we're in the middle of nowhere, and we've been driving for over an hour. Kent refused to tell me our destination because, as he put it, "I would just g****e where we're going, and then it wouldn't be a surprise anymore!" The weather was gradually getting less cold, not warm yet but no longer snowing or freezing. I was on my last spring break, trying to finish my thesis and schoolwork. We recently received information about our upcoming graduation. In about a month and a half, we would be finishing our undergrad degrees. It was still surreal to me, moving from starting a university degree to finishing it. Kent had been discussing plans for the summer, including hiking trips, which I pretended not to dread. I wasn't much of a hiker, but I was willing to do it with him. We signed our lease for next year, securing that cute little apartment on the other side of campus. The thought of moving in with him excite
"I got my email." Even though Doctor Binkley said I have a spot, I'm still nervous to open it. Maybe I should've waited to open it when I'm alone, but I can't wait. I'm opening it on my way out of lecture. I open the email, quickly reading the first few lines. But at the top, there's a big box that says 'congratulations' and 'welcome!' My heart immediately slows down, and I feel relieved, clutching my phone to my chest. It's official; I'm staying at Brown next year. That means I'll be with my family, my school, and, of course, Kent. We can start our life together, still have our friends and continue studying, but we'll be together. I remember how tough that month at Northwestern was, how much I missed him, and how I felt like I had no support. I need to text my parents and tell them the news. They've been anxiously waiting to hear what I'd do about my living situation next year. But I'll do it later. Right now, I just want to go home and be with someone I love. I pull out my phone
"I hate school sometimes." Yes, I like researching and finding answers to questions no one's ever thought of before, and I like my degree, but the coursework sucks. I'm sick of reading pages and pages of scholarly articles and books and writing a new paper every other week. My honors project is draining every ounce of energy from me, and I was starting to worry if it was even worth it anymore. I hadn't heard about Brown's Master's program yet, and that's the whole reason for this extra burden. Today was Tuesday, one of my busier days. I only had class today until noon, and then I usually spent the rest of the day grinding out work. Today I had to meet with Doctor Binkley and discuss my work. It was something we did monthly to make sure I felt like I was always on the right track. Kent had a break after his class at one-thirty, and we were planning to meet up and study together until his next class at four. Then I was planning to go home and take it easy. I take the elevator up to
I wake up in the middle of a large bed with Kent beside me. We were completely tangled in bedsheets, just beside each other in a beautiful room. I sigh, feeling my body ache and my head pound, but it's bearable. I shuffle over slightly, laying my head on his chest and snuggling back into his side. That seems to get his attention. He moves under me and groans slightly, eyelids fluttering. I feel his lips press a simple kiss to my temple, and I smile. "Hey, Juls," he mumbles. "Hi," I whisper back, watching his eyes open slowly. He grins at me easily, running a hand through my hair. "How do you feel?" he asks, and I shrug. "I have a headache and I'm tired, but I'm okay," I sigh, tracing my fingertips down the center of his chest. "I had a lot of fun last night." "Good," he whispers, putting his hand over mine on his chest. "I know how hard you've been working and all the crap we've been dealing with." His voice is thick with sleep, deep and raspy. "It was nice to have a day that wa
"It's been an amazing night and an unbelievable birthday. I'm pleasantly tipsy, happy, aware, and buzzing," I express. It looks like all three of our friends have scored phone numbers tonight, giving Kent and me some alone time. I notice the place clearing out, and I realize it's probably time to head home. The bar is closing in about thirty minutes, and it's close to three in the morning. "Want to go somewhere else?" Abby asks as we wait for our jackets. I sigh and shake my head. I'm ready to devour some greasy food, drink water, and snuggle into bed with Kent. We've teased about getting intimate, but with all our roommates around, it's not a possibility. I've let go of that idea and just want a relaxed and easy night. "I'm good," I sigh, and she nods with a simple shrug. "Thanks a lot for everything; this night was so, so fun!" "I'm thrilled you enjoyed it!" She insists, giving me a hug, and I grin. Kent retrieves our coats, and I sigh, not looking forward to facing the cold a
It was nice to feel noticed by him, nice to know that he always seemed to care about what I was up to. I'd never felt attractive before I started dating Kent. We all round up the last of our coats and shoes while the Uber's on its way. I get my coat on, and I feel Kent slide his hand along the small of my back. I gasp a bit quietly and look up, seeing his cocky grin. "You look nice," he whispers, and I chuckle, feeling his fingertips slide around the edge of my waistband. Soon we're all piling into an Uber, and I hear Abby chatting up the driver in the front seat. I'll always be envious of her confidence and how she talks to people like she's known them forever. We grab a quick dinner at a pizza place around the corner. Everyone pushed that we should go somewhere nicer, but I didn't want to. I just wanted to go out and have fun with my friends. I hadn't gone out in a long time, not really since before Christmas, and I'd spent way too much time feeling lonely, buried in work and ove
"Did you want to stay longer?" Kent asks as we step into his car, and I smile, closing the door and putting my seatbelt on. "No, we've been there for hours," I mumble, safely tucking my birthday card into my coat's inner pocket. "If we stay longer, we're staying for dinner." Time with my family was amazing, it meant the world to me, and I was thankful I had it so close to my birthday. "Your parents are really cool," he admits, turning on the car and shifting it into drive. "No, they really aren't," I snort. "Did you miss the part where mom pulled out my baby album and sang my favorite lullaby? To all of us?" I ask, and he chuckles. "Or my dad talking about his Master's thesis? His theoretical chemistry Master's thesis?" "You know what I mean," he defends. "They're...people. Like real, normal, kind people who care about everyone." "I guess they have that going for them, huh?" I laugh, and he smiles. "I can't believe that check, that's not like them. They don't just hand out money
We head inside, and I take a deep breath, walking into our house. My family's house always makes me feel happy, like I'm somewhere safe and full of love. Mom's burning some cinnamon candle, and I can hear noise from the kitchen. "What's that smell?" Kent asks, and I laugh. "Mom loves scented candles, it's probably some clearance one that she picked up from somewhere," I explain, unsure where the nearly offensive candle was. Kent hated strong scents; he claimed they gave him headaches. "Sorry." "It's okay, just... don't go burning anything like that at our place," he says, and I chuckle, reaching for his hand. "Hello?" I call, bringing Kent to the kitchen, and mom gasps, hopping up from the stove and running over. "Juls," she whispers, squeezing the life out of me. "I'm so glad you could come." "Me too, I missed you," I whisper, and she pulls back, rubbing my arms in that aggressive mom-like way. "And I missed you, oh! You're so beautiful and smart-" "Okay, mom," I mumble, and s