Eternal Longing ✓

1. Familiar Tensions

JAYA
One Year Later
The Present

I close my eyes and hold my breath for exactly three seconds, hoping that Maverick will shut up long enough to notice my exasperation.

"You're okay over there, Brocs? Cat ate your tongue or something?" I can picture him grinning wildly, his floppy dark strands shielding his eyes.

Don't slap him, Jaya. Do. Not. Slap. Him. He's one of your only friends here.

"Are you excited for our first class of the semester or what?" He attempts to fist bump me, but the dark look I send him is enough for him to drop his hand. "Guess you really aren't a morning person, eh?"

"I am not," I grumble back, trying to keep up the pace with Maverick's long strides.

"See, this is why I like you," he tells me, a bright smile on his face. "You're not scared to tell it how it is." He throws a muscled arm around my shoulder, squeezing me to his side.

I send him a dry look, not correcting him. In reality, I'm probably the least honest person and rarely tell it how it is. The truth is that I hide all the damn time.

"Oh, shit! There goes the building!" Maverick bellows, squeezing me even harder.

I follow his line of sight, my eyes landing on the large brick building housing our first class of the semester. Rucker Hall is probably one of the largest buildings on Muller University's campus, so it's not surprising that our huge Realism class will be taking place here.

"We already came here during orientation, Maverick." I nudge him playfully despite the fatigue I feel. "Yet you're still committed to acting impressed by it."

I expect the squeeze, but it still catches me by surprise when his arm crushes my neck. "You're a little meany, Broccoli. I'm hurt." He feigns a pout while steering me toward our destination.

I snort. There's nothing little amount me. I'm a whole five-feet-nine-inches and my curves have rounded in most places given my laziness this summer. Not that I was skinny before, but now I'm probably veering along the edges of overweight.

According to my best friend Amara, who was with me this summer as I lazed around, the weight I put on suits me perfectly and has granted me an all-access pass into the thick girls club. Personally, I just feel heavier.

Ignoring a girl that waves shyly at Maverick, I take in the beauty of our campus. The red brick buildings that vary in size, the walking students, the bright sun doing its best to kill us all with its heat. All so beautiful.

Muller University is both an aesthetically pleasing institution and a top art school in the country, yet somehow, a middle-class girl like myself from a small town in Texas made it here.

I'm officially living the young, dumb, and broke life in New York City and trying to make it as an artist.

Just as we're about to enter Rucker Hall, I notice a blonde girl almost fall off her heeled boots while trying to give Maverick a cute wave and what looks like a flirty twirl.

"Why are girls already killing themselves to get your attention, again?" I shove his arm off my shoulders before one of these girls throws a shoe at my head for daring to touch their man. "It's literally the first day of classes."

Opening the door for me, the dumbass has the audacity to smile smugly. "Jealous, Broccoli?"

I can't help the loud chortle that escapes me. "Please, Maverick. Let's not act as if I'm anywhere near your type or that you are mine." I look him up and down, taking in his white T-shirt and black cargo pants paired with his spanking new white Air Force 1s.