Extra Credit | Complete

40

Calista

It was the first snowfall of the year. I had spent the morning watching squirrels chasing each other in the quad from my dorm room window instead of studying. Final exams started next week and I was having a hard time focusing on anything. My mind had been a whirling mess ever since the other night when I received that unexpected call from Andrew. Part of me wanted to reach out to Lincoln and see how he was doing, but I didn't want to be overbearing.

Before Andrew had hauled him into his Jeep, I had given both of them very specific care instructions. I also told him that if there was any swelling, redness, or heat coming off of it in the next couple of days that Andrew was within his right to knock him out and drag him to a hospital. No ands, ifs, or buts. I was well aware that the threat went through one ear and out the other. Lincoln wasn't going to be doing anything he didn't want to do. The only thing that gave me a sliver of comfort was Amelia being an RN. Even if he didn't listen to anything I had said, I knew he was in good hands.

What I needed to do was focus on finishing up the semester and passing my courses.

I had invited Harper over in an attempt to keep me on track. And it worked. For a total of fifteen minutes. I groaned, slamming shut the textbook page on anticholinesterase agents.

Harper had been sitting at my desk, laptop open. When I threw myself back on my bed she turned her head to regard me with concern. "Are you having to review manual disimpaction again?"

My face scrunched up in disgust. "No, but thank you for that unwanted mental image." I blinked up at the ceiling. "I think my brain is short circuiting."

"Well, not to be the bearer of bad news," Harper said as she gestured towards a stack of cue cards on my desk. "But you haven't even touched these yet."

I glanced at her, unamused. "Yeah, that's part of the problem. Exams are starting and I haven't even scratched the surface on reviewing. It's stressing me out."

Don't get me wrong. Exam periods were the most stressful thing I had to experience in my twenty-one years on this planet. I had been dreading them even more as the weeks went on because I was putting all this effort into something I wasn't sure I wanted anymore.

"Harp, when did you start thinking about joining the FBI?"

Harper tapped across her keyboard. "Over the summer, I suppose."

"What made you change your mind? Ever since I can remember, you talked about joining the military and climbing up the ladder like your father had."

"It seems like the better fit for me. Relocating time after time due to my father's employment was difficult. It was rough being the new kid seven times over. I wouldn't have to concern myself with that as much with the FBI. And intelligence analytics—whether I decide to go the route of tactical or strategic—is something that I can see myself doing for the rest of my life."

"And what if you change your mind?" I said, pushing myself back up into a sitting position. "What if you wake up one day and decide you would rather drive around and sell ice cream?"

Harper blinked. "Then I'd do it... but why would I choose to sell ice cream? The target audience is children. I hate children."

I shrugged. "It's the first thing that came to mind."

"What does any of this have to do with you studying for exams?"

I drew in a heavy breath through my nose. "I'm having a hard time staying motivated. All I can think about is how I froze up at The Pit the other night."