crowd of students that were heading home after a night of partying. Or, as was more common this time of year, studying. I wrapped my jacket around me as the cold winter air pierced my skin. This was definitely not winter in New York cold, but it was still a bit too chilly for me.
A couple minutes later I had two kebabs and a large fries (I still sometimes forgot to call them “chips” when I ordered) for us to share. I headed back up to the library with the food; luckily it was way too late for any staff to be left in the building to berate me for eating in the building.
“There you are, I was wondering what was taking you so long.”
“Giant group of like twenty people who also had the same idea as me about food. Sorry,” I answered, unwrapping my chicken kebab from its foil wrapper. My stomach growled; I hadn’t realized just how hungry I was until that moment.
“Well, it smells like it’s going to have been worth it,” Annie said, grabbing a fry and popping it into her mouth before unwrapping her own kebab.
I would have answered, but I already had a giant mouthful of delicious Mediterranean chicken in my mouth.
There was not an instrument on earth that could measure my relief that Annie had bought my explanation about being so long. There’s really no good way to tell your best friend that you hooked up with your brother in the middle of the library, with her being only like 300 feet away.
“So did you get your notes back from your brother?”
“No. I saw him, and he apologized for being rude, so I let him keep them.”
“Really? That guy, apologize? I’d like to see that.”
“Well it’s all I wanted. It made me feel good, so there’s that.” Oh, how good it made me feel, I thought, relishing the moment we shared together.
“Cool. Well I think I’ve got this whole recessive/dominant gene thing down.”
“Nice. What are the odds your kids will have blue eyes?”
“Pretty good, in this country. But it depends on who the father is.”
“I’ll take your word for it. I’ve got to try and remember what the main Canterbury Tales stories are, and their themes. I always forget those.”
“There’s the one with the priest, and the old woman, and yeah ok I think I’ll share those notes with you.”
* * *
Two days later we wrote the Introduction to English Literature exam, and Annie wrote her Genetics exam. When we finally left the room at 3pm, the two of us were wiped. I wasn’t sure I’d slept in about a week. I had barely been home; I hadn’t seen Jack at all since that night in the library.
“I’d suggest we go get a beer, but I’m pretty sure all that would happen is we’d both fall asleep at the booth,” I told Annie, who laughed.
“Yeah, I’m going straight to bed. I’ll text you though, when’s your next exam?”
“Two days.”
“Same. Study tomorrow?”
“Sure. God, I can’t wait for this to be over.”
“I know. I still haven’t even started my Christmas shopping, and it’s only a couple weeks away now.”
“Ugh, don’t remind me. Ok, that’s it, I’m crawling under the covers and not coming out until tomorrow afternoon.”
“Morning. I suck at this human resources stuff, I’ll be at the library early to try and get a good mark on the exam. I need it.”
“Ok. I’ll see you then,” Annie told me and with a wave headed off to catch her bus. I went to the spot where Michael always picked me up and collapsed into the back seat. I’m pretty sure I was completely asleep before we even left the campus.
I woke up a few hours later, still in the car, parked in front of the Alcott estate home.
“Oh my God, Michael, I’m so sorry,” I told the driver, who was sitting on the hood reading a book.
“Don’t worry about it. I thought I’d just let you sleep rather than wake you, and I like the winter air. It’s nice and refreshing.”
“Well thank you, I appreciate it,” I told him, and he tipped his cap before getting back into the
Learning to Kill: Stories