The Racquet Accident

Chapter One: Musical Foreplay.

Chapter One: "Musical Foreplay."

"THIS CAN'T BE happening." I tapped at my laptop multiple times. My fingers clicked the power buttons more times than they've ever pressed against something in my 21 years of life.

Nothing.

The screen remained black.

"No, no, no," I whined-whispered, pressing my linked fingers to my mouth. The Python script I had written and was prepared to run should be staring right back at me. Instead, appearing on the other side was my irritated expression; my blonde hair tied back in a low and disappointing ponytail and dark blue eyes glaring, wishing the screen would crack while simultaneously wanting the system to somehow wake up.

Why did this have to happen to me? 

"My life is a joke," I mumbled. I could already hear my roommate and friend, Yasmeen's, voice in my head, telling me not to say that with a stern tone.

Well, Yasmeen, my life is a joke. My life is ruined. I'll never survive or recover. What are we going to do about that now?

When I pulled up the group chat with three of my closest friends, I said that.

Me: My life is a joke.

Yasmeen: Don't say that.

Knew it.

Me: I'm dropping out.

Jaime: I'm joining you.

Jaime always understood me.

Yasmeen: DON'T SAY THAT.

Mariam: Don't convince me. I've thought about it at least thirty times today.

It was only 4 PM. That sounded accurate coming from Mari.

Me: Let's go. My car has a full tank, I could get us out of here in minutes. Mari, we can pick you up in two hours, babe.

Jaime: Pick me up from the physics building, please.

Mariam: I'm in!

Yasmeen: LARINE.

Me: I am presenting a high-quality option here, Yas.

Yasmeen: Oh, yeah? You're going to drive us all and go where?

I scoffed. Somewhere with nice trees, and lakes—North. We'd go north. Exactly. Northern Ontario sounded like a great plan...even though I wasn't a fan of living in a rural town like I had my entire life. But north was away from my terrible excuse of a laptop that wouldn't even—

My phone beeped with an incoming text message.

Yasmeen: That's what I thought.

I itched to give a good reply but sighed in defeat. At least I was less angry. My friends had that effect on me.

Yasmeen, Jaime, and Mariam were my roommates in our second and third year at Herringway University. Now in our fourth year, Yasmeen, Jaime, and I were all still roommates in our rented home. However, Mariam was in Toronto, two hours away from Jasper Bay. She had gotten accepted to a med school over there in our third year. Her departure was bittersweet, nothing but wishes for guaranteed success while hoping that we'd all stay in touch even through the distance.

I knew our friendship would be okay. We've spent summers that were meant to be breaks from one another after living with each other for eight months of the school year. Those breaks never really lasted long. Before I knew it, we'd all go get sushi because Yasmeen craved it. We'd end up at a concert because Jaime would want someone to go with her. We'd all be laughing drunk (or sober in Yasmeen's case) until our stomachs hurt well into the night because of Mariam. Even when we would spend time away from one another, when we reunited, it never felt like we'd ever been apart.