I arrived home drenched, hoping Kent wouldn't be there. Despite the chaotic day, we were advised to spend the night with loved ones. Right now, I needed all the support I could get, and that meant returning home. Upon entering my apartment, I shed my raincoat and dropped my bag to the floor, feeling utterly drained. "Julianna?" Kent paused his work at the dishwasher upon hearing me. Our eyes locked, my lower lip quivered, and tears streamed down my cheeks. Concern laced his voice as he asked, "What happened to your clothes? It's only 40 degrees outside. Did you walk home like that?" Another wave of emotion threatened to engulf me, and I struggled to hold back sobs. Defeated, I removed my shoes, but now my toes felt numb, and I couldn't think clearly, haunted by disturbing images in my mind. Kent approached me from behind, placing his hands on my shoulders. "What went wrong, honey?" He inquired softly, tears welling up in his own eyes. I responded by wrapping my arms around him, an
I could have easily drifted off to sleep there because I felt incredibly at ease with him. Surprisingly, after the events of today, I expected Kent to drive me up the wall, but he turned out to be kind. I hadn't noticed it before, but there was a softer side to him that had never been apparent until tonight, especially. When I felt ready, he released me, and I shook my head before heading back to my room. After taking off my pinnie, I grabbed some warm clothes to change into and then made my way to the bathroom. I undressed in the shower, letting the warm water wash away the chlorine. I tried to act as though nothing had happened, but my efforts were futile. The sadness crept in while I was in the shower, so I turned up the heat in an attempt to drown it out. After drying off and getting dressed, I left the bathroom wearing cozy socks, a long-sleeved shirt, and sweatpants. I was surprised at how late it had become, but I had arrived home after seven, spent an hour talking to Kent, a
I was taken aback by how sensitive Kent could be. I had always assumed that Kent disliked people getting close to him or touching him, and I thought he was merely tolerating my presence because he didn't like me at all. As we lay in his dimly lit bedroom, I began to realize that the brusque manner in which he spoke to me wasn't necessarily a reflection of his feelings toward me. It was just his way, but deep down, he did care to some extent. If he genuinely disliked me, he wouldn't have shared stories about Dartmouth or football, driven me to work, assisted me in getting back at Piper, or been here with me right now. I struggled to recall the last time I had been in bed with another guy, and it had been years since I had been this physically close to someone else. The way I felt around Kent was unlike anything I had ever experienced before, and most of the time, I couldn't determine whether that was a positive or negative thing. The soothing circles he was tracing on my back had an
I relish the scent of Kent's T-shirt and his room as I drift off to sleep. How close we are, and how he opens up to me. I wish he could be like this all the time. I don't usually get this warm when I sleep, but I wake up feeling sweaty. I attempt to open my eyes and discover that I'm still snuggled up with Kent, who's holding me tightly. I'm still quite tired. I didn't sleep at all last night until I came here, and after that rescue mission, I'm physically exhausted. I steal a glance at him, and I notice that he's wide awake, gazing up at the ceiling. However, as soon as he senses me moving, he looks back at me. "Hey, Julianna," he whispers, causing my stomach to flutter. My favorite version of him is Morning Kent, with tousled hair, the beginnings of a beard, and kind eyes. He looks more like the boy next door than a mean person. "Hi," I reply quietly. We both wait for one of us to make a move, but neither of us does. Right now, it's just the two of us, and it makes me happy.
Since last weekend, I haven't felt like myself at all. Getting through a day has been an incredibly strange experience for me, and I'm at a loss for how to improve my situation. I've been pushing myself to keep up with my schoolwork, but it's no longer providing any relief. The pressure is mounting because I have my first honors thesis presentation at school on Monday, and I'm deeply concerned that I won't be able to perform as well as I typically do. I've spent over two weeks preparing for this presentation, pouring my heart and soul into my research. I'm determined to do an outstanding job, and I hope that the review board will concur with my presentation and thesis. However, sleep has eluded me, and it feels as though my mind is in a perpetual state of turmoil. My body, too, has been aching since Saturday night. No one ever informs you of how physically draining it is to perform CPR for an extended period of time. On top of my regular swimming regimen, this has taken a toll
"Julianna, you don't really know me." "Is that so?" I inquire, raising an eyebrow. "The way you talk to others is vastly different from how you interact with me. You make it seem like being around me is a challenge, like I'm the one complicating our relationship," I assert, prompting him to exhale sharply and run his tongue over his teeth. "Kent, what I'm saying is true, and I'm just being myself. I treat you in kind, but when I initially moved in, I made an effort to get along with you because I liked the room. I never would have chosen to live here had I known you'd treat me this way." "How am I treating you?" He repeats, a tone of surprise in his voice. "I thought I did quite a few nice things for you, Julianna. Including last weekend—" "Cut it out!" I snap at him, and he retreats a step. It's the first time I've spoken to him this way. Kent, you can't be pleasant to me for one day and then act as if you've done me a favor. When you're nice, it's not like you're showering me wit
I longed for that kiss to bring me happiness. I constantly find myself daydreaming about him during quiet moments. Reflecting on our time together fills me with a sense of wonder, novelty, and enjoyment. It was the first time in my life that I truly understood why people my age enjoyed such encounters. It frustrated me that he didn't want to take our connection any further. Deep down, I knew it shouldn't progress, yet it did. Last night, our emotions were laid bare, and he couldn't retract his words, even if he wanted to. At least he admitted that his thoughts and emotions were conflicting. Mine were too, and I had to keep reminding myself to stay away from Kent. Getting close to him was not a wise choice, and I could savor our secret without guilt. Today marked my return to work. Fortunately, no one was around when I left, and Mark wasn't there to offer more advice. Last night, I refrained from talking to anyone and remained in my room. I was not skilled at deception, so I had to
"Hello, Julianna," she greeted in a soft voice, and I responded with a smile. "Hi there! You look so much better!" I muttered, and a grin lit up her face as she and her mom entered the office. "Can I give you a hug?" she asked, to which I gladly agreed. "Just a heads-up, I might be a little wet from swimming," I cautioned, and she simply shrugged. Nevertheless, she embraced me tightly, and it was surreal to have her standing right in front of me. "Thank you," she whispered, and I nodded. "I'm so grateful for your help." "Of course, I was happy to help," I assured her, and she chuckled softly behind her hand. Her mom waved and stepped away, granting us a moment of privacy. "So, how have things been with you lately?" I inquired as I gestured for her to take a seat in my office. "I'm doing better," she replied, wiping a tear from her eye. "I was discharged from the hospital yesterday. They ran some tests and found that my allergy had worsened during my stay." She shrugged, and I no