𝐁𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐤

05⇢messages

JAMIE

The week's almost over, and I want to die.

Since the bank robbery on Sunday, I've stopped two drug traffickers, one kidnapping, and two murder attempts. Although I'm happy I could save lives, the price my body paid for it was almost not worth it. I feel like death, and I probably look it, too.

My entire torso is almost blue, I have a black eye, I had to go to the emergency room because my shoulder dislocated, and my will to live is slowly deteriorating.

What also sucks is that Sam doesn't seem to care. I want to say that he believes my confession of competitive boxing, but I know he doesn't.

My theory is that he knows I'll get mad, so he doesn't say anything. Even if he does tell me and show me he's worried, he's not making any moves to stop me, which I'm kinda grateful for.

I'm currently sitting in my anatomy classroom, waiting for class to start. I'm (obviously) sitting in the back by myself. It's nearing three in the afternoon, and students start piling into the classroom.

One girl, however, catches my attention as she confidently walks towards the back and takes the seat right next to me.

The first thing I notice is her balayage hair. Her roots are caramel, but the rest of her hair is a creamy blonde. It's wavy, but it doesn't go past her shoulders. Black glasses also frame her face.

"Hi," she pipes, and I smile at her quirky personality. "I'm Mia."

My brain stops functioning for a quick second as I comprehend that someone's actually talking to me. "Jamie."

"Nice to meet you, Jamie," she says, and I find myself smiling at her. I'm glad someone decided to talk to me, so I wouldn't have to do it myself. "Nice black eye. How'd you get it?"

"Oh... I do competitive boxing," I reply, a small blush coating my cheeks.

"Sick," she adds, and I scoff. This girl was something else. "So... why anatomy?"

"I like the way the body works," I tell her, and she nods happily.

"Me too!" Mia's personality is kind of overwhelming, but I'm trying not to think about it too much. I don't want to be too quiet to the point where she thinks I'm uninterested. I really need to make a friend. "Tell me something about yourself."

"Um... I'm really quiet, I guess."

"Well, I could've told you that," she says, and I try not to take offense to that.

I fake a laugh and nod. "Yeah, I don't talk much."

"That's okay," she tells me, "I'm kind of the exact opposite, but opposites attract, don't they?"

"Yeah, I guess so," I reply, and she laughs — hopefully not at me.

Our instructor, Mr. Vave, makes his way to the front of our classroom, holding a giant stack of notebooks and papers. He's Russian, and I think he's pretty cool.

"Good afternoon! You might think I'm nice, cool, and funny—but this is college. You're all adults, so I'm going to treat you like adults. Not high school kids," he starts, making my eyes widen.

Alright, then.

"These are your workbooks and syllabi. You'll use these throughout the year. I want everyone to partner up and grab yourself one each. We'll go over the syllabus before getting to the material."

Students begin to stand up, walking to the front of the classroom to grab materials, and Mia turns to me. "Wanna be my partner, Jamie?"

I nod, my face heating up, and Mia leaves her seat. She quickly skips back to me, placing a workbook and syllabus on my desk, and I smile at her gratefully.