Chapter Seventeen: Alcohol Manages TO Turn Me Into Charlie Sheen on Fleek

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Chapter Seventeen: Alcohol Manages TO Turn Me Into Charlie Sheen on Fleek


In the weeks that follow my time is filled with cramming for finals and writing papers. I re-did my paper for Professor Flynn's British Lit class and got an A. It was around then that I realised that grades weren't going to come as easily to me as they did in high school. That particular realisation has resulted in me retreating into my awkward turtle shell and spending all my time in the library. Occasionally I venture out for sustenance and sleep but mostly because the staff tends to look at me like I need to pay a visit to the campus counsellor. So I drag my sorry butt out of there and use the dorms only for sleeping and showering, wasting only enough time in the dining halls so that it doesn't look too bad when I venture back into the library.


I think my friends are worried about me, Cami has definitely tried bringing up the topic several but she knows better than to try and give me the 'it's not healthy lecture'. We're all in the same boat, all struggling to just be done with the first semester of freshman year and just have weeks to do nothing but catch up on sleep. It's closer now, the possibility of having more to look forward to than just countless words on  countless pages since I'm done with all but one my finals. It'll also be incredible to spend some time with my best friends, knowing that we'll have plenty of time to spend together just like we used to. Beth doesn't start school till late January and Megan and I will get free around the same time so we're already planning out pre and post Christmas activities which mostly involve a lot of sleepovers, even more food and enough chocolate to support an entire village. 


The only thing which I haven't planned to death is how things are going to be with Cole. Just the thought of him makes my heart ache because it's been more than a few days since I've seen him. Either he's busy with practice or his games or I'm too swamped with coursework to see him when he's free. I know it's frustrating, even more so for him because last night on the phone it seemed like he was itching for a fight. For someone who's so headstrong and used to getting what he wants by any means necessary it can't be great having to remind himself of the thousand reasons why he can't do what he wants. 


Sighing, I power my laptop down and rub my tired eyes. In the room it's dark with Sarah having gone to bed an hour before. She'd been working on her own essay and it'd been so quiet in here that Cami had walked in, bursting to tell us about whatever adventure the night had brought with her and then walked right out. We weren't exactly hospitable and the silence might've seemed eerie to an outsider so she slowly retreated backwards and left us to our laptops. Sarah gave up long before I did, having been too exhausted to work anymore but I'd powered on and finished my essay. Now I feel the weariness in my bones but there's also elation because once I hand this in to my professor, I'm done for the semester.

Done!


Carefully placing my laptop on my desk, I make a trip to the bathroom down the hallway. It is as quiet as one would expect it to be at 4 am on Wednesday and so I quickly get done with business and hurry back to my room, ready to snuggle into my covers and rest for a bit. I have one afternoon  class tomorrow where I'll be marked for a presentation and then I'm done till after winter break. The thought makes me giddy, almost as much as knowing that when Cole and I go home, we'll finally be away from the public scrutiny that has him holding back. The thought brings a smile to my face and for the first time in weeks, I find it easy to go to bed. 


***


Cole waits for me, grinning widely as I rush outside of class. I can't believer it's over! That I officially survived the first semester. Maybe I'm overreacting because it's not like I've come out of a war zone or anything but finals in an Ivy League institute aren't that far behind. Resisting the urge to throw myself at him, I resort to jumping on the spot like a loon.

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