There's been a monster in the mirror since Ollie was eleven, and he only knows one thing: it despises the color yellow. So, when a truly terrible tragedy involving a spork and a too-long flight of stairs leaves him eyeless, and he's sent down the st...
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Back in their apartment, Ollie immediately settled into the couch with his copy of A Practical Guide to Rock Microstructure. Now that he had eyes again, he needed to make up for lost time, even if that meant not taking a single breath to enjoy his renewed life.
"You're back at that already?" Hessa groaned, emerging from the hallway that led into the bathroom. She held a box of band-aids and a tube of antibiotic ointment. "I thought you'd at least take an evening."
"Look," he said, quite pleased that he could enjoy looking again, "I really need to finish this degree. I've already taken one semester too long, and I don't—can't—take another. What if I fail?" He cracked open the book with his thumb.
"Ollie, you're already further ahead than anyone else you started with. By a year. You're a year ahead, not a semester behind. Why don't you just take a break?"
"I can't." The weight of his parents' expectations rested heavy on his shoulders. He'd always been their bright boy who would surely make them proud. But he'd never succeed. His mom was a neurosurgeon and his dad was a metallurgical engineer. They had expectations he could never hope to exceed—if he worked very, very hard, he might be able to meet them, though.
"Last time you read that book, you decided you were done with academia." She flopped down beside him, snatching away his hand. "Let's go out. You can take me to dinner."
That was code for 'take me out for ice cream'. The first time Ollie mustered up the courage to talk to her, he tried to ask her out to dinner. He was young and enamored, and never considered the logistics—and, quite honestly, he never expected her to say yes. He soon realized the only thing on the menu he could afford was ice cream, and only one serving at that.
So, they ordered ice cream and Hessa never once acted anything less than delighted. They dated for a few weeks before deciding all they wanted was to spend time together. Neither of them was interested in a romantic relationship; they just wanted to be friends.
Only a month after that, they moved in together. For Hessa's accomplishments, and on special occasions, Ollie took her out to dinner. Otherwise, they traded shifts cooking. The ice cream was a special part of their relationship—one they would both forever look fondly on, and he was thankful she'd brought it up.
"That sounds nice," he agreed. "Let's do it."
He closed the textbook, running his hand over the beaten cover as he looked down at it. But the words weren't arranged how they were supposed to be. The picture on the front and all the colors were right, but although he knew it was A Practical Guide to Rock Microstructure, he couldn't read that. Instead, the letters said something else.
Thank you, Ollie.
He yelped, tossing the book off his lap. It slammed into the carpet with a noise that would be loud as thunder for their downstairs neighbors. He was too rattled to offer the apology he usually did as he pointed at the book with a trembling hand. "What does that say?"
