ELAINE - 20 DAYS AGO

I hate David Hume with a burning passion. I swear to God, some of these philosophers were merely competing at who can produce longer sentences. My head hurts and I'm exhausted. I'm one step away from giving up altogether, quitting school and becoming a hairdresser.

God knows I'd make more money.

Frustrated, I throw the book away, feeling an urge to burn it. The exam is in a week and I can't even bear to look at the text. I never should have taken this stupid subject, but I wanted to look beyond medicine and see whether something else might interest me.

Now, I'm behind on three papers and I've got two huge exams coming up.

Once again, I've taken too many additional courses, same as in high school. And once again, I'm paying the price by enduring terrible headaches and panic attacks.

I never learn.

The sun is setting outside. The Widener Library windows look over the Harvard Yard. People are gathering outside; tourists, students, teachers. The day is quite warm for the middle of March, especially in this area. Most of the people are wearing nothing but shirts, with an occasional leather jacket here and there.

I'm terribly jealous of anyone who's meeting up with their friends.

It's Friday and I'm stuck in the library. The Loker Reading Room, the large, book and table-filled space is half-empty. An occasional student is crutching over their book, struggling to keep their eyes open. I don't usually study here, because it's too crowded an a lot of people are studying in groups, but Friday is a slow day for the Widener Library.

The large book stares at me ominously, threatening to devour me with its convoluted text and small letters.

Sometimes I think I shouldn't have gone to Harvard.

This place is full of people who can afford it. They don't have to endure the stress of student loans and wasting their parents' money by procrastinating.

Maybe it's not fair to compare, since we're all attending the same school, but I feel like life is just a bit easier for them. Or I'm just jealous.

Either way, my own feelings get in the way of studying, I close the book and lean against the back rest, closing my eyes for just a moment.

If I don't push myself now, I won't make it.

Next week, I'm working double shifts on Wednesday and Friday, because I have no lectures on those days.

To help my parents out, I bartend in the café nearby. It's calm most of the time, but not calm enough to crawl into a corner and study while no one's watching.

Maybe I shouldn't have found a job, but I'd feel too guilty if I let my parents carry the burden of my education on their backs. I want to help out, I'm raised that way.

But I'm afraid my need to help is going to backfire and I'll fail all my exams, in which case, I've helped no one.

I rearrange my fluorescent markers in the order of rainbow colours. Maybe some order will help me sort out my mind.

I'm a perfectionist, an over-achiever and I have OCD tendencies, at least that's what my therapist says.

With the surge of my current anxiety, I thoroughly believe her.

I constantly feel like I'm not good enough. The feeling creates this strange behaviour which causes me to pile on more things to do, more curriculars, more APs, more shifts at work. It always backfires, disabling me from preforming successfully.

And then I feel like I'm not good enough again.

It's a vicious cycle I almost completely escaped when I graduated high school. The first year of college went by smoothly enough, with an occasional anxious relapse when things got too stressful.

But the second year caught me by surprise.

A few months ago, I was almost completely off Zoloft, only to find myself taking double dozes now.

I'm aware this can't end well, so I decide to take a small break. Maybe I'll feel better after grabbing a bite and taking a bubble bath.

Then, David Hume and I can come to an understanding. I need to read that book properly and he needs to stop using complex sentences with three to four clauses.

I close my binder, my pink notebook and David Hume's book, arrange them in my peach-coloured bag by height, put my markers in their own small container, and head out of the library.

There's a silver lining in all of this, at least that's what I tell myself as I descend the grand double staircase and pass by the two complex murals decorating the walls. People notice my passion, teachers appreciate my desire to take on as much work as humanly possible, they want to work with me.

I'm currently waiting for internship approval in Harvard Med School. I'll be working with a professor on a medical project, which is something rarely received by someone still in their sophomore year. Something like that would look spectacular on my resume.

A bunch of people are hanging out on the steps of the Widener Library, some I recognise, some I don't. Josh Wright is among the people I recognise.

Air leaves my lungs when he notices me.

Josh Wright is one of those unattainable fantasies I sometimes have. His hair is sandy blonde, lighter towards the ends, his skin is naturally tanned and his eyes are sky blue. He also has more scandals in his resume than I had AP classes in high school.

There's this blog, which is now shut down, but still available to anyone enjoying good gossip, he used to be featured on often. Back when Josh was in the Astley Academy, he lived a life more similar to Gossip Girl than reality.

When I first saw him, I read everything there was to read about him, from alcohol-abuse, heavy drugs, excessive partying, to an occasional three-way.

In the meantime, he lost all the money he had, which was covered in mainstream media. Now, he's lurking around Harvard, still hanging out with elites and taking my breath away. People say he's a jerk, even Myrtle and Sarah, but I can't seem to see past the dreamy eyes.

"Elaine, right?" He grins as I walk past him.

God, how does he even know my name?

A blush covers my face, "Uh, yeah, hi."

"Hi." He stands up and comes down the stairs, until he's next to me. "Studying on Friday?"

"Yeah, well, David Hume isn't going to understand himself." I chuckle awkwardly.

Josh's expression momentarily puzzles, but he shakes it off, "Pretty ambitious."

"More like manic." I offer a thin smile.

"So," He goes through his hair, "Doing anything tonight?"

"Oh," I swallow my nervousness, "I have a date with my computer and a couple of books."

Josh smiles, flashing his perfect white teeth, "How about a date with me?"

I'm too stunted too answer. For starters, I'm not used to someone so bluntly asking such a thing. Boys I like tend to awkwardly follow me around for years before asking me out on a date.

"Elaine?" Josh searches my eyes, his smile doesn't falter.

"Sorry." I shake my thoughts away. "I'm... I don't think I'm available tonight. Like I said, David Hume awaits."

Josh grins, "I'm sure David Hume can wait a while longer. It's just drinks."

A part of me truly wants to go, because I haven't gone out in months. Another part of me really has to study, especially with the double shifts waiting for me.

There's also the fact this is Josh Wright we're talking about and I'm not sure I'll fit in with whoever he's hanging out with.

"Thanks for the invite, really." I smile tightly. "But if I don't pass the exams next week, I might as well quit school."

His smile disappears and he nods, "I understand."

I begin to walk away when another voice reaches me.

"And who is this?"

I turn around, confused.

The guy who spoke stands next to Josh. He's two heads taller than me and slim; lanky. The fact he's completely dressed in black doesn't help. His hair is slightly greasy, long and dark. His eyes are piercingly blue, almost icy.

Yet, despite being perhaps conventionally ugly, there's a vibe to him; something mysterious, dangerous, and just a bit sleazy.

Him and Josh look like grumpy and sunshine next to each other.

"Uh, I'm Elaine." I mumble, glancing towards Josh like he's my friend in charge of introducing me.

"Hello, Elaine. I'm Graham." Graham offers his hand and when I take it, he plants a small kiss on the back of my hand.

"Stop creeping her out, dude." Josh chuckles.

I don't know how to react.

Graham chuckles, "It's such a shame you're unavailable tonight, Elaine."

There's something weird in the way he says my name. My spidey senses go wild.

"Uh, yeah, David Hume is my date for tonight." I offer a small smile, subconsciously moving closer to Josh.

But someone's already calling him, catching his attention.

"Sorry, just a sec." Josh leaves my side, leaving me with his friend.

Graham comes closer to me and takes a strand of my hair between his fingers, "Do you know you look like an angel, Elaine?"

I step out of his reach, "Uh, I think I have to go."

Graham smiles, "It would be a shame if someone clipped your wings."

"Josh." I call immediately. "I'm gonna go."

Josh waves his friends goodbye and looks between Graham and me, "Was he being weird?"

"No, it's..." I look between them. "I just have to go."

Josh rushes down the stairs after me, "Hey, you okay?"

I nod, "I just have to go."

"Hey, Elaine." Josh smiles. "If David Hume turns into a jerk and you dump him. I'd love to take you out on a date."

I can't help but grin as I'm leaving the Widener Library steps. 

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