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Kat
I will do well on the test.
I will do well on the test.
I will do well on the test.
I continue to repeat this damn mantra over and over in my head as I struggle to eat my breakfast. My nerves have caused my stomach to tie itself into an anxiety knot.
The nausea is overwhelming at this point, and it's not helping that Ashton isn't here with his usual wise words of encouragement.
That's all my fault anyway. I shouldn't have been so harsh to him. How hypocritical of me. I worry about trivial things twenty-four-seven, but how dare he worry about me one fucking time.
It's going to be fine. You'll ace the test, get some rest, enjoy senior skip day tomorrow at work, and take one step closer to graduation.
I try desperately to convince myself that today won't be the end of the fucking world. However, it's no use, the "what if" thoughts continue to creep through my brain, pulling the strings of the knot in my stomach tighter.
What if I run out of time?
What if I don't pass?
What if I forget everything?
What if Ashton wanted to study yesterday?
What if Ashton is mad at me?
I can say for certain that at least one of these "what ifs" will become a reality for me, if they aren't already, considering my luck and past experiences in stressful situations.
I cease my attempt at eating my bagel, if I hadn't, it probably would have made a reappearance during the test. As I throw my breakfast away, I try once again to fill my thoughts with positive outcomes.
Maybe I'll ace the test.
This isn't the first AP test I've taken, I know how to manage the time. Even if I don't perform with 100 percent accuracy, I'll have given it my very best shot.
Plus, I think I look great today, if I do say so myself.
My outfit would hopefully become a confidence booster and a good luck charm. Hair out of my face and tied back in a bun so I won't anxiously play with it during the test. The necklace Ashton got me last year rests around my neck, a safe item to toy with when become more nervous. The small emerald charm shimmers brightly as I turn it over in my palm, reminding me of the very boy who gave it to me and how his eyes possess the same gleam. My favorite sweater covers the length of my arms; no one will see my hands shake. Finally, because I felt cute today, a black skirt falls just past my thighs, the shortest I'd ever be comfortable to wear to school.
I look down at the necklace again, biting my lip as I wonder when Ashton will be over here, as it's already eight. At least we don't have any physical classes today, just one humongous, foreboding test staring at us in the face.
