“That little tiny pyramid looks cool,” I conceded.
Her face fell. I’d somehow displeased her. “This is a d-four—a four-sided die. It is perfectly balanced to give me the perfect chance for a completely random one-in-four roll every time.”
“Um. Okay.”
Jenna pulled out an oilcloth and began polishing the shapes. “You don’t get to use cool stuff like this for computer games.”
I sighed. “I’m sorry. I promise I’ll come soon. But this test has me so stressed out I can hardly think of anything else but studying and working so I can eat in order to keep myself alive so I can continue to stress about this damn test.”
Because I’d failed it last year. I’d bombed so abysmally that that failure hung over my future like an executioner’s axe. It froze me with fear so that the thought of taking it—and failing it—again made me physically ill inside. Instead, I studied and studied and put off the retakes. The test was offered every month and everything—everything—I’d planned for my future rested on that godforsaken test. I hadn’t yet found my confidence, or the courage, to try it again.
But if I didn’t do it, I’d never be a doctor.
Since school and testing usually came pretty easily to me, I’d thought that the MCAT would be the same. How terribly wrong I’d been. I swallowed an icy pebble of fear, willing myself not to think about it.
Alex plopped down beside Jenna and fingered some of the dice in the box, avoiding my eyes. “We get it,” she said, but it was easy to hear the hurt in her voice.
I sighed, sinking down onto the metal folding chair opposite them—I had such fashionable furniture. It was bad, even for a college pad.
“I’m sorry. Really.”
Alex looked up, her eyes hard. “I said we get it.”
Jenna placed a hand on her arm. “Alejandra, calm down please. I’m sure she’ll hang with us again when the test is over.”
I shook my head. “Don’t you two have finals coming up or something? Why aren’t you studying?”
They attended nearby California State University in Fullerton, which was on a slightly different schedule than my school, Chapman University. Alex cleared her throat. “Because I’m a communications major and she has such good grades that she opted out of most of her finals, because she’s a fucking brainiac,” she said, jerking her thumb toward Jenna.
Jenna looked up and despite the crap she’d just given me, I could read real empathy in her pale blue eyes. She was stunning, really—like the love child of a Norse goddess and Alexander Skarsgård. “It’s okay, Mia, really. If you ever need help studying or anything, let me know. I could quiz you. I don’t know much about bio, but I know there are some physics-related questions on the test and since that’s my major…”
I sighed, running my hands through my hair and resting my forehead in my palms. “I’m the worst friend ever.”
“No. You’re just stressed out and if you keep this up, you’ll fail just because you’ll be too keyed up to even focus.”
I rubbed my forehead with my thumbs, feeling the beginnings of a stress headache. This day! It felt endless, between the lack of sleep after my late shift, the rushed preparations, the unexpected meeting with a pompous but very hot asshole, the weird gaming session with Fallen and now this.
Alex got up from the couch and came over to crouch beside my chair. “Pobrecita,” she murmured in Spanish, meaning “you poor thing.” She slipped an arm around my shoulders. “I’m sorry.”
I sighed again and leaned my head on her shoulder. Then she invited me to eat downstairs with her mom and we pigged out on her awesome enchiladas.
“You leave it to me and Jen,” Alex said. “We’ll find you a hot nerd and then you won’t be able to say ‘no’ to our parties.”
I grinned and swallowed, my throat suddenly tight. I’d met a hot nerd earlier that day and found I didn’t like him much.
Chapter Four
As the next few days rolled on, my mind constantly dwelled on the question of whether it was the right decision to proceed as planned. I was finding it awkward to even force myself to do my weekly DE report. This week’s had been a bland, neutral commentary on some of the lamer quests in the game. But what about next week and the week after? What about after Drake and I slept together? Would I always be worried that he’d be stalking my blog?
I could opt to cut my regular DE report from the blog. Readers would protest that. I received lots of hits, re-blogs and comments on that feature. My blog was my livelihood. It brought in more money through advertisements than my hospital job currently did. Hopefully it would keep paying the rent throughout med school as well.