Sprigs from Ice

Part One// 15. Creeping Frost

"Finally." Astrid sighed and tossed her phone beside her as David and I walked through the archway into the living room. "What took you guys so long?"

"Just casually discussing which avenues on the black market would offer the best prices for your kidneys." David replied.

"Oh, ha ha." Astrid rolled her eyes.

I sank into the comfy black cushions beside her on the L-shaped couch and caught a glimpse of the username of whoever she had been texting. My brows slowly inched up. "Huh. Didn't expect you to give in so soon."

"Don't you get on my case too." She grumbled.

"What?" I asked innocently, sitting up with a shrug. "I was just stating an observation."

Before she could spew the retort I knew was brewing on her tongue, a grunt sounded from one end of the couch. Jonathan held a can of coke in his hands, standing over David with a smirk as David bent to rub the spot on his shin where he'd been kicked by his friend, a grimace on his face.

"For every basketball hit on my body, you get three kicks to the shin."

"Looking to break my leg or something before the game?"

"You hit my fucking spine, you arse."

"Boys." Astrid sighed.

"Right." David slapped his thigh and stood. "What movie are we watching? This idiot proposed Oppenheimer before you girls arrived, but I wanted you both around before we decided."

"How progressive of you." Astrid grinned, wiggling her brows at him.

He ignored her. "Tricia?"

"Um, no. Astrid and I aren't going to watch a movie. We came here to study and time is far gone as it is." I said, prompting a loud, obnoxious groan from Jonathan.

He rolled over to face me, his scrutiny uncomfortable and making my skin crawl. In fact, it wasn't so much the scrutiny as it was the plain-as-day judgement in his eyes. "You look like the kind of person who stays up till two am solving pascos, the kind of person for whom a B+ is a death sentence. All about discipline and studying, huh? You ever take a break?"

There was no sugar-coating it. His words stung. I opened my mouth to defend myself, but it was futile. No words came out. After all, which part of Jonathan's statement was untrue?

"And that's the reason why she's part of the top five percent of students in our district." Astrid shot back good-naturedly. "You boys can watch your movie if you want."

Jonathan only rolled his eyes and reached over to snag the TV remote from the low dark brown coffee table. He then rolled onto his back and turned on the larger-than-life LED display, easily navigating to Netflix and flicking through the movies.

As Astrid and I picked up our bags from the floor, he twisted his body to face in David's direction and asked, "Are you watching Oppenheimer with me or you'll pick a different movie?"

"Not sure." David murmured without looking up from his phone. "I'm quite tired anyway. I'm sure I'll fall asleep in the middle of it." He momentarily stopped scrolling through whatever he was reading, and raised his head just when Astrid and I passed where he lay, searching my face. "You okay?"

I didn't trust myself to speak, so I only nodded. Astrid looped her arm through mine and tugged me in the direction of the dining area. A small pressure had began forming somewhere behind my temples, growing steadily with bursts of dull pain, no doubt as a result of averaging about three hours of sleep every night this week and substituting breakfast and supper for textbooks and calculators.