Let's Hurt Tonight

5

Amelia

Three hours. 

I have been staring at my laptop screen for three whole hours with not so much as a "the" typed out. Writing my senior thesis is proving to be more difficult than I expected. I didn't expect it to be a walk in the park, but shit, I also didn't expect it to be this exacerbating. 

"Hey, Amelia!" my good friend, Christian, cheerily says as he walks up to me. Currently, I'm sitting in NYU's library, specifically in the common area where talking is allowed. I don't mind the quiet section but I much rather prefer working where there is a little bit of white noise. 

Christian looks rather dapper today, clad in a crisp navy blue suit that compliments his dark skin. Normally he wears sweatpants or athletic gear so it's nice to see him all dressed up. He also looks particularly happy leading me to believe there was some sort of occasion today. 

"You look nice," I tell him with a smile, redirecting my attention away from my laptop and onto my friend. 

"I just had an interview for grad school," he tells me. "Manhattanville College. I didn't even know they had a journalism program there but I was pleasantly surprised. I'm hoping to stay in the city for school, and I guess life in general, so I figured it couldn't hurt to apply there." 

I wish I could say I had a plan as ambitious as Christian's. He's been diligent about applying to graduate programs and looking into possible jobs whereas I'm just playing it all by ear. 

"How did it go?" I ask him. 

Christian shrugs. 

"It was okay. I think a lot of people applied so who knows what my chances are," he replies.

"I'm sure you did great. I know the 'competition' is a bit tough but they'd be fools not to accept you," I tell him with a reassuring smile. "You're a catch."

Christian and I have been friends for a while now. We met our freshmen year in one of our English classes and bonded over how boring we found the class, and also how hot our professor was. I believe it was some philosophy of writing class, or something along those lines, but it was absolute torture. The only good thing that came out of it was finding Christian, and ogling over Professor Andrews twice a week for two hours. 

Eventually, through getting to know him, I discovered that Christian's an English major like myself. Ultimately, he wound up going down the journalism path while I stuck more to creative writing, but we remained close over the years. I'd consider him my best friend next to Shannon.

"Thank you," Christian shyly responds. "Well listen, I should be off. I have to meet with my advisor over some bullshit essay I need to do, but text me! We'll get lunch soon. I haven't seen you in a while it feels like." 

"Sorry," I say, giving him an apologetic look. "Life's been a bit stressful but yeah, I'll definitely text you and we'll do something."

And with a wave, he's off.

I sigh as I watch him leave. I need to hang out with him more. We used to spend much more time together than we do now, but our schedules have been so different lately that it's been hard to catch up. He's still one of my closest friends, but we've just been shit at actually getting together beyond just texting and calling. Luckily, though, our friendship doesn't rely on seeing each other every waking second of every day. We always pick right up where we last left off. 

As I'm getting ready to finally attempt to go back to work, my phone buzzes signalizing I have a text message. I glance down at it and see it's a message from Harry. 

A stupid smile forms on my face. Contrary to what I thought, Harry texted me almost immediately after we parted ways nearly three days ago. He said he wanted to make sure I got home safe after we got drinks together, but then the conversation just never ended. We wound up texting for what felt like hours at a time, staying up until the wee hours of the morning.