Crossed Lines

Mina

After Eli left for another round of practice, I grabbed another coffee to go and head to the library. The library at Cedar Ridge was practically my second home. Its tall, arched windows overlooked the campus green, and the hum of soft whispers and flipping pages was oddly comforting. Tonight, though, even the comforting quiet couldn't make me feel less frazzled.

I reach for my cup of coffee as I stare at my laptop screen, the cursor blinking mockingly at the half-finished research paper on developmental psychology. My professor wasn't kidding when she said this semester would "separate the serious students from the casual learners.

I wasn't sure which category I fell into tonight.

A quiet giggle from behind me broke my focus. I didn't have to turn around to know who it was.

"Mina Park, slaving away as usual."

Hannah Choi slid into the seat across from me, her oversized scarf making her look like a fashionable burrito. She set down her reusable coffee cup with a dramatic sigh. "You look like shit, when was the last time you slept?"

"Does a three-hour nap count?" I mumbled, taking a sip of my now-cold coffee.

Hannah gave me a pitying look. "Girl, you're going to burn out before finals even start. You need to chill. Do something fun. Go on a date or something."

I snorted. "Sure, because I have so much free time to meet someone."

"Doesn't have to be someone new," she said, wiggling her eyebrows.

"Hannah," I groaned, shooting her a glare.

"Alright, alright," she laughed, holding up her hands in surrender. "I'll stop."

Hannah and I had been friends since high school. She was literally my only friend I had other than Eli. She'd been the one to bring me out of my shell when I was in high school. Back then, I was typically quiet and shy. Not much changed. But, Hannah quite literally bumped into my life with her boldness and relentless energy. Like, she tripped on pavement walking up to school entrance so we both fell, our books and papers falling everywhere. However, that's a moment I'll never regret. She was the kind of person who lit up every room she entered with her humor and brightness.

"Did I hear someone say 'fun'?"

Charlotte Hayes, forever the planner and realist, set her notebook and planner down on the table, her sharp gaze immediately scanning my pile of notes. "Mina, this is not a healthy workload."

"It's fine," I said, trying to sound convincing. "I just need to push through."

Charlotte shook her head, her auburn hair catching the light. "Push through, or burn out?" She nudged my coffee cup with a smirk. "I'm guessing this isn't your first cup tonight."

"Guilty," I admitted, laughing.

Charlotte and I had met during freshman orientation at Cedar Ridge. She was the one who'd helped me navigate campus when I got hopelessly lost on my first day. Over time, her practical advice turned into late-night study sessions, which eventually turned into a close friendship.

When I introduced Charlotte to Hannah last year, I wasn't sure if they'd click. They couldn't have been more different—Hannah was spontaneous and outgoing, while Charlotte preferred structure and routine. But somehow, they balanced each other out. Now, the three of us were inseparable.

"Alright, kids," Hannah said, leaning back in her chair. "What's the plan for Saturday? Are we cheering on Mina's boy Eli or what?"

I raised an eyebrow. "My boy?"

"I wasn't asking you," Hannah shot back. "Charlotte, are you coming?"

"Sure." she said. "But only if we don't sit in the front row. Those Hartford fans are terrifying."