A/N: another long one, but the Medicine origin story is here...enjoy <3
December 2014
I don't know what the hell my problem was, but I could barely stomach the parting words my algebra teacher had for us before we left for the term. My leg was bouncing under the desk and I wasn't absorbing any information anymore; I had no more space in my brain. The one and only thought floating around in there was simply, shut the fuck up already.
I suppose that's what happens when you spend four months crying and studying, and studying and crying. As embarrassing as it was to admit, I even picked up stress-smoking cigarettes. Cigarettes. Hazel started it, and while it was painful and disgusting at first, I didn't hate the nicotine buzz. I didn't smoke them all the time, but before and after an exam I would, and during a study break. So...more than I should.
"Anyway," the professor sighed heavily, "please do take care of yourselves and have a wonderful holiday."
To that, I rolled my eyes and scooped my leather tote bag up from the floor. I was the first one to arrive when the class began, and I was the first one to leave while my fellow students embraced each other. There was no one I cared to say goodbye to, no one I'd be sad to never see again.
At the end of the wide, overflowing hallway, I made out Hazel's signature, icy blonde half-top-knot bun. My shoulders dropped in pure relief as our eyes met. She laughed when she could see the exhaustion written all over my face, opening her arms for me as a mother would.
"Happy end of the term," she cooed, hugging my neck.
"I wanna fucking die," I groaned as we pushed our way out through the double doors, and into the freezing cold. "I never wanna do another math formula again, I never wanna write another thesis, I never wanna open a textbook. I just, want, to be dead."
"Well, let's not do that," Hazel chuckled as we linked our arms together to stay warm. The heels on our tall boots clicked simultaneously over the brown cobblestone, and we could see our breath puffing out in little white clouds with every exhale.
Campus was beautifully dead by this time of the year. The trees were barren of their leaves and a sickly grey color, the grass was an anemic shade of olive green, and everyone was bundled up to their chins in grey, beige, and black winter coats. Every single day was so picture-perfect, quite literally the only saving grace to the bleak curriculum that tried to kill us all.
"You know what I wanna do, actually?" I said, turning to see Hazel's cheeks flushed a rosy pink. "I wanna get drunk. No, I wanna get wasted."
"Oh God," Hazel dropped her head back to laugh. "You just sounded so American."
"I do!" I giggled in persistence. "I haven't been drunk in I don't even know how long. I haven't had fun in I don't know how long. Yay, I'm a perfect student, but my life is a goddamn bore."
"Okay, then let's do it," she chuckled. "Let's get everyone together and go out."
"Yeah?"
"Mhm," she squeezed my arm tighter into my side. "I'll dust off the old group chat."
That was the plan we made before parting ways in the student lot. Hazel and Harry did that thing where they blew kisses to each other, but the gesture resulted in a middle finger. I smiled back and forth between them as Harry embraced me while leaning against the trunk of his car.
"Hi," he gave me a cute Eskimo kiss before his lips were slotted between mine for a real one.
"Hi," I wiggled in place with a dramatic shiver. "Let's go, let's go, let's go. Get me the fuck out of here."
