Something Just Like This || [ON HOLD]

11 April 2017 (1)| 👙

"HOW'S THE BOOK coming along?" Graham asks as he drops his bag on the ground and sits next to me on the bleachers.

Closing my laptop, I turn to give the golden-haired boy a teasing smile. His curiosity in my work is obvious even though he's being very polite by not trying to peer over my shoulder when I write or anything of the sort. We've only known each other a week and I feel as though I can already trust him.

"It's coming," I say. "But I'm not that concerned about when I finish. Writing for me is more like therapy than a talent."

Graham nods, his brown eyes flickering toward the pool before finding mine again. "A way to reflect on the world?" he clarifies.

"Yeah, sort of."

"Well," he starts, adjusting his sling as he sits up straight, "if you ever want feedback on a plot summary and the first impression it makes on potential readers...."

I laugh quietly and tuck a couple curls behind my ear, well aware of the glint in Graham's eyes. "Noted."

"I mean, every book has a plot summary. Right?"

I cock an eyebrow. "Somebody's persistent."

Graham shrugs, feigning nonchalance. "Guess that's why I was always drawn to sports."

"What other sports do you like besides skiing?"

Graham's lips curl into a small smile. "Soccer, running, and swimming, of course. I used to be on the school's swim team when I was an undergrad."

Graham's entire face is filled with joy as he describes his hobbies, and it doesn't take long before I feel my lips curl into a smile of my own.

"What about you?" he asks, gaze locked with mine. "Do you have any favourite sports?"

"I've never been very athletic," I admit, shrugging. "I did basketball and cross country in elementary school, but that's about it. I do enjoy hiking, though. And skiing. I just don't get around to doing them that often."

"Well, next time my friends and I go hiking I'll have to invite you."

The smile my lips form once his words register is not a conscious choice but a reflex. "I'm looking forward to it." 

And I really am. Ever since flunking my first semester of university, I haven't been the most socially active. I meet up with friends on weekends and sometimes for coffee between lectures, but most of the time I'm not in class I spend studying, doing chores, or sleeping. That's the schedule I've assumed to get and keep my grades up, and so far it's been working. 

Even after securing my academic standing, I kept the same routine. Failure has a way of inflicting fear, and even though I only had a small taste of it, it's nearly impossible to forget. When I think about my first year GPA, my stomach still clenches, the same way it did for days after learning my grades for the very first time all those years ago. Since then, studying has become more than just a routine that takes up a few hours of my time each week. 

It's become an obsession. 

"What's your exam schedule like?" Graham asks, bringing me back to the present. 

"Two on the thirteenth, then the sixteenth and seventeenth," I answer. 

"Two on one day? That sucks."