F•R•I•E•N•D•S

E•L•E•V•E•N

Ishika

Leaving my med classes were the best part of the day for me. Don't get me wrong, I loved medicine and everything about it; it's just that I don't think said love came from me personally.

Most likely it came from my family who continually grilled me about becoming a cardiologist, or an MD, anything that has to do with hospitals.
They all want me to follow in my parents' footsteps.

Both my mother and father were professional Medical Doctors and were locally known in our town for their great workmanship.
I know they only got where they are today through hard work and dedication which thankfully paved the way for me to pursue tertiary studies.

I should be thankful for what my parents have done, even if the passion for medicine wasn't fostered on my own.

It was a warm and cloudless afternoon, no bird or insect in sight. A sweet aroma filled the air from the surrounding flowers, which beckons me to take some time to appreciate them.
Inhaling deeply, the thick smell rushes up my nostrils, feeling it's way around and then heading out again once I exhale.

It's the little things like this that only further proves how real God is; if only Mom and Dad would understand.

"Watch out!"

A soaring brown object bounces off the front of my face, landing on the grass in several little flips.
Immediately my nose explodes with pain while my hands cradle it in hopes of easing said pain.

"Holy crap are you okay?" The voice from earlier asks.

Through my distress I manage to look up at my assailant to find a mature looking young man peering down at me.
He had the top of his hair pulled into a man-bun while the rest was shaved. A tattoo peeks out at me from the dark short-sleeved shirt he was wearing, painted upon well defined muscles.

His jaw was muscular, but not sharp as people like to describe so many times. And his eyes, they were the darkest shade of black I'd ever come across which seemed to mesmerize me each second I continue to look.
He clears his throat, probably uncomfortable from all my staring.

"Are you okay?" He questions again.

"I-I'm fine," I manage to squeak through my hands that still caress my aching nose.

"Here, let me see."

He closes the space between us while gently removing my palms from the pained area.
I was certain I was bleeding, for I could smell the copper scent of blood.

"Am I bleeding?" I mumble before the pain overtakes me once again.

"Try not to move your nose so much okay? And no, you're not bleeding," he tells me, his minty breath fanning across my face as he speaks.

His eyes doesn't leave mine as he watches the way I try to talk without having to move my only means of breathing.
He chuckles a little.

"You're doing a poor job."

I groan, my eyes rolling being the only movement on my face.

"I'm trying here!"

"Alright," he laughs, "you're right. By the looks of it you'll be fine. Some ice on that and you'll be able to smell again in no time," he assures me.

As if remembering the culprit that caused the damage, he bends down to retrieve his football, showing off his Fruit of the Loom boxers in the process.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. I'm Rye by the way; Rye Bolton." He extends his hand in greeting as I do the same.

His grip is firm, but not overpowering. I think I like it.

"I'm Ishika Gupton," I respond.

"It was nice meeting you Ishika, but I'm sorry we had to meet under such circumstances. Maybe we can try again?" He asks with one raised eyebrow.

It dawns on me that he was asking me out, on an actual date.
My first date!

"Of course! Ahem, I mean yeah. I'd like that."

He smiles at my eagerness as I do the same. It's only then do I notice that his eyes have a sparkle in them, but not an actual spark. It was slivers of grey that reflected when the light hits them the right way.

He was such an interesting boy to look at.

Before I found myself staring at him once more, we say our goodbyes and I continue to walk towards the dorm.

Music was blaring as I walked through the door of my modest dorm room where I find my roommate dancing crazily all over the place.
Tara was hopping all around our confined space tossing her highlighted hair to and fro.
Her hips dipped and bucked to the beat of the song, one which I don't remember hearing before.

"Turn that down will you!" I shout over the bass of the singer.

She pretends to not hear me, rocking and shaking all over our room.
I throw off my cardigan before heading over to the rather large stereo on her side of the room, and clicking it off.

"Hey! I was dancing to that," she protests.

She stands a few inches away from me, boring holes through my head.
Her hair acts like a cloak, splaying around her broad shoulders to hide pieces of her face.

"What're you going to do about it?" I challenge.

She takes another step towards me, so that we're toe to toe. Her eyes are ice cycles, attempting to freeze the aim of her stare.
Just when I thought she was going to say something more stern, or bite my head off, she bursts into laughter while I follow suit.

Tara and I have fostered a comical relationship, pushing each other to our limits and then laughing about it over some iced tea.

She pulls me into a hug. "How was class today?"

I squeeze her back equally before parting to shrug off my backpack.
"Same old, same old. We got any yogurt?"

I maneuver around her to peer into the fridge beside our door.
Leftovers, pizza boxes and soda cans littered the space but no yogurt cup was in sight.
We needed to go shopping again.

"Same old as in you're still not sure if you want to continue studying medicine or same old as in the nerdy guy beside you kept answering all the questions and didn't give you a chance," she says.

"Ha ha, really funny," I say jokingly. "But yeah, the first one."

A large sigh escapes my lips as I dump down onto the couch. She fills in the space beside me as I lean my head onto her shoulders.
My chest feels heavy with all the unanswered questions and scenarios that are burdening me, so much so, that I begin to tear up.

"Don't cry babe. I have faith that you'll figure out everything at the right time. Now's just not it," she consoles me.

Tara has been nothing but good to me ever since the first day we met. She's become the ideal roommate and I couldn't have had it any other way.
For some reason, I spilled all my heart to her when we started to talk about our lives so she knows the struggle I have to face with my major, and with my religion.

Through it all she has been nothing but an appreciative listening ear, and a faithful shoulder to cry on.
Tara was the best person I've ever met and no one could persuade me different.

"Thanks T. You always know what to say," I sniffle.

"Of course I do, don't you know who I am?" She giggles.

I push gently at her shoulders, rolling my eyes at my conceited, self-absorbed friend. At times she could be a handful, a headache even.
But now, as she heads to the freezer to make me an ice-cream sundae just so I can feel better, she's the amazing person I know her to be and have come to love.

And I wouldn't want it any other way.