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Hazel is a medical student. Bachelor in science, who is constantly juggling between the demands for these studies and pressures for clinical rotations, she has learned to keep her head down and eyes for...
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Days have passed. My last test before Christmas break was today, so now, and I'm finally free... ...for at least a week.
I haven't seen anybody since that night after the frat house. I've tried to focus on myself and school... and maybe trying to avoid the questions Chace might have been collecting this past week.
That night, Chace slept on my bed until the sun came out. He left early in the morning, promising he was going to stop by the hospital and get his stitches checked.
This past week, It was hard to walk around campus when everyone was talking about "Mr. Soccer Star."
It felt like anywhere I turned, someone was chatting about him and Monica not being together anymore.
The rumors were hard to escape, especially when it seemed as if they followed me wherever I went. I forced myself to concentrate on my studies: the neverending, lengthways medical textbooks and always looming exams.
Regardless of how I tried to bury myself in the work, the whispers were more than able to sneak into my mind and interrupt my concentration.
The memory of him, with stitches on his cheekbone, haunted me. I wish that I had asked him what had happened, but I did not. I was too involved in my confusion and also scared of the answer.
But now, with the rumors swirling around, I find myself questioning if the cause of their breakup was me.
I heard a name or both of their names again. I walked by a few students on my way to the library. I convinced myself to keep walking while my heart pounded. It wasn't my business. Still, the guilt rushed over me and wrapped me around.
I got to the library, where I finally found a corner. I thought the quiet and scent of books would assist in clearing my mind. I opened my textbook, but the words blurred as each column of text mixed, making them impossible to read.
I blew out a sigh and rubbed my temples, then looked up from my textbook once again. That was when I saw, him.
Chace.
Sitting at a table across the room, half-concealed behind a pile of finance books. He was completely engrossed in whatever he was reading, his brow furrowed in concentration. And to my utter shock, he was wearing glasses.
Seeing him that way, with reading glasses perched on the end of his nose, deep within a finance book, did something strange to my chest. He was different; he looked so focused and quite honest. He looked so. Hot.
I couldn't look away; my heart started pounding just a little bit harder than it should have. Maybe it was the lack of intimacy in this past month and a half.
He had this serious, almost academic look about him that was so unlike the easygoing, athletic guy who would pull my skirt up anytime he saw me alone. It was like seeing a whole different side of him, and I couldn't tear my eyes from him.
