The Tuition Fee

Chapter 8: December, Year 1

Nathaniel

I give the biggest middle finger in the world to college finals. Never has anything in my life kicked my ass more than studying for five classes and five different finals all at once. I played a seven day straight soccer tournement in high school which was easier than this. 

I yanked at my hair as I got the practice question on my history test wrong again, shoving my glasses further up my nose as if that could help me see the right answer better. Four choices, one of them right, three of them ready to fuck me over. How was I going to get through three and a half more years of this? And it was just my undergrad! 

"Nathaniel? Are you okay? It's two am." I looked up as the door to the study opened, a bleary-eyed Alina looking at me. She had my sweatshirt on and leggings, her hair a frizzy mess from where she'd been passed out on the couch, study books open around her on the floor and coffee table. I came home from studying with Reese and his tutor for our Stats class and immediatley started studying for my history exam at the ungodly hour of 8 am tomorrow morning. At this point I would be lucky to get any sleep. 

"Yeah, just studying," I mumbled, turning back to my notes. 

She let out of huff of air and rolled her eyes. "Your hair looks like you stuck your finger in an electrical socket." 

I frowned and spun back around. "What do you want? I'm trying to study for my biology exam here." I had a C in the class already so it might kill me if I failed. If I got a B+ or higher it would bump my grade to an A and I knew I needed that GPA boost if I had any hope of getting into a good medical school. And I needed to get into a good medical school. So any time wasted not studying was really testing my patience. 

"Studies have shown that getting at least an hour and a half of sleep before an exam will help you retain the information better," she responded with a yawn. She crossed her arms, hands smothered by the long sleeves of the sweatshirt. After Thanksgiving she hadn't given it back to me, and I hadn't asked. There was a picture on my Instagram of her wearing it, taken across our small kitchen table with a measley feast before us of KFC fried chicken and sides because it was all we could afford and all that was open. She looked so shy in the picture, giving me such an uncertain look as I snapped it without giving her any warning. In my opinion, it mirrored the intimacy of the picture Marissa had taken of us on Halloween, kissing in the spin-the-bottle circle like we really were a couple. I'd be relcutant to post that one, and as soon as I did my phone blew up via my brothers and mother asking me what the helll had happened. Long story short, I told them to mind their own business.

"Fuck off Alina, I didn't ask for your pyschoanalysis," I snapped. 

She sighed and pushed herself off the dooorframe. "Ass," she mumbled, walking back to the living room. She pushed my attention back to my studies, trying to recall all the different cells and parts inside it including chemical compisition when a mug of coffee appeared at my side filled with cream. 

I gave Alina a shocked look but she was already out of the study, own mug in her hand. She had an education exam tomorrow in the afternoon and the only reason I knew that was because she had made me give her my schedule and pinned a color coordinated spreadsheet to the refrigerator. I grudgingly hated how good of an idea it was because that way we knew when not to bother each other when studying. Or when the other would be in a bad mood because of it. Which for me, was all the time. But right at the end of the week with a cartoon Christmas tree was our Christmas party. Well, Alina's party at Crew's Keep but she'd invited me, Reese, and Marissa to join her. And I'd be damned if I passed up the opportunity for free booze.

"Thank you," I mumbled, picking up the warm mug and taking a sip. Perfection. Fuck I hated when she did that. 

I rubbed my temples and looked between my notes and textbook and computer screeen glowing in front of me. Glancing out the door to make sure Alina wasn't behind me, I searched her "sleeping makes for better test scores" comment and sure enough, there it was. I really, really hated when she did that. But it meant if I studied for another two hours I could get about three hours of sleep before having to tredge across the frozen campus to take the one exam that would determine the fate of the rest of my career. Fine. Easy peasy. No stress at all.