Even The Playing Field | BOOK #1 IN THE PSU SERIES

one

Naomi Black

I was addicted.

Most people say their addictions are fun things like binge-watching their favorite television shows or stalking One Direction on a daily basis. My favorite story of someone being addicted was in the third grade when Thomas, the diabetic kid, stole all of Dustin Rodgers Hershey Candy Bars that he brought in for the Halloween party.

Addiction kills everything but desire.

You constantly are left feeling unsatisfied, you always want more.

I was addicted once too.

Except when I was addicted, I was a preemie in the NICU. Coddled and swaddled- the nurses took care of me while my mother withered on the bed fresh from giving birth. I had heard stories that mothers seeing their babies for the first time was a life changing moment.

But all my mother wanted was to put a needle back into her arm.

Because I didn't satisfy her, because I wasn't enough.

After a long recovery journey, I can say I'm not addicted to heroin anymore. If anyone was wondering, that isn't a good conversation starter either.

I am addicted to different things now. For example: I loved the way dogs walked on their hind legs, I loved the fresh smell of coffee brewing, and holy shit did I love the smell of gasoline when I filled up my car (if I had the money of course).

But my biggest addiction? My biggest addiction was making sure that I never would repeat a past that should've never happened to begin with.

If it were meant to be then it would've been even if it meant me sacrificing my dreams for my friends.

For as long as I can remember I've long dreamt of the thought of me becoming a pediatric nurse because I loved the idea of helping people that couldn't help themselves. I loved the science behind it, I loved the idea of fixing someone the way I wanted to be fixed.

When I was accepted to Penn State University in the eleventh grade as an early high school graduate it was a shock to my grandparents and me. I worked my ass off to get where I was at and I had big goals to accomplish. So, at the ripe age of 17, I graduated high school a year and a half before anyone my age was supposed to. I packed my bags and I arrived as a baby into the crazy world of college. There I met my roommate and best friend, Sloane.

We bonded over pizza and she thought of me as a little sister she never had because of the year and a half age difference. Throughout the year we wiped each other's tears and laughed until we pissed our pants. Of course, we also got shit faced with each other. The Penn State fraternity parties were always outrageous. I was there for her first one night stand and she was there for my first period.