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chapter one

"Fuck!" Clay screams from his desk. With his fist he punches down – right next to his keyboard. He groans.

"Same", I mumble.

"W-What?", Clay asks. He turns around in his chair, putting one side of his headphones off his ear. "Sorry, I wasn't paying attention."

I grin. He genuinely seems upset, that he didn't pick up what I've been mumbling about for the last half hour. I don't mind telling him again – at least if he listens this time instead of failing uncountable times at his speedruns.

I close my laptop, which I've lain down in front of me on Clay's bed, while he's been sitting in his gamer chair.

"They still haven't answered me", I groan. "My school – for the semester abroad", I add as I realize Clay's confused face.

Clay quickly turns around, types something in his keyboard and then pulls his headphones entirely down – embracing his neck.

"Haven't you like only sent the request a few days ago? They probably need time and stuff." Clay leans back in his chair, looking at me.

I roll my eyes. "Yes", I say. "But if they don't respond to me in the next few days or so, they won't until Christmas and probably New Years is over. Which is another two weeks of not knowing what..."

I stop because of Clay's stupid laugh.

"Shut up, bastard", I shout at him, but joining his laugh with giggles. "You know, I'm pouring you my heart out and the only thing you do, is laugh at my misery."

I take a pillow from Clay's bed and throw it at him. An attempt. He easily catches him in front of his chest. He grins.

I fast grab the other pillow an put it in front of myself – a protection if he tries to get back at me. But nothing happens.

"I don't laugh at your misery!"

I put my pillow-shield down and look in Clay's eyes again. They have an amused sparkle in them.

"Uh-huh", I mock him. "And what's that then?", I ask, pointing with my finger at his whole appearance.

Clay furrows his brows. "No, I- What? No.", he fumbles for words. "What I mean, is that you focus on something you can't control – again. It happens when it happens. It's not in your hands."

I groan, turning from my position laying on my stomach to laying on my back.

I mean, he is right. But I fucking hate it. Not even necessarily the part about him being right – even though it is annoying (and most unlikely) – but I hate the fact, that I don't have any influence on when I'm receiving an answer.

When I finally got the courage to fill out the application letter for a semester abroad at my university, after struggling for so long if I could do something like that – alone in another city, another country, another fricking continent – I assumed that the worst part is over.

But the waiting is hell.

"Plus..." Clay's voice lets my head fall backwards down the side of his bed, now seeing an upside-down Clay.

"Plus, it's Christmas break and you're finally back home with your family. And of course – even better – you can finally see me again."

I burst into laughter and almost gag, because of my turned head. I cough and turn back to a more comfortable position.

"Oh yeah, finally", I say with a high-pitched, breathy voice. "I can see him again. The one and the only Dream-"

"Shut up."