Chapter 17 – Kat
SEVENTEEN
KAT
I manage to get through finals and the blur of winter break, receiving a surprising B in Macroeconomics despite my struggles. During my stay at home, my mom barely has any free time due to her demanding job, and Elijah is constantly tied up with his father’s never-ending obligations. I try to see him a few times while home on break, but he is pretty much always busy. As much as it hurts, I get it.
Now, we’ve been sitting at the main library on campus for hours, and despite my insistence that maybe a business minor just isn’t for me, Elijah continues to attempt to explain finance to me.
My stomach growls loudly, reminding me that I haven’t eaten since breakfast two hours ago. I glare at the thick textbook in front of me, the words on the page blurring together in a frustrating mess. I resist the urge to throw it out the window and take a deep breath, trying to push through my hunger and finish my finance assignment before I pass out from either anger or hunger .
“Kat?” Elijah asks, clear annoyance in his voice.
“What?”
“Did you hear a word I just said?”
“You were talking about risk and return.”
Something in his expression tells me that he was not , in fact, talking about risk and return.
“We’re not even on that chapter anymore. What is going on with you?” he asks.
“Nothing,” I sigh.
Elijah continues talking about various topics out of my textbook, but my eyes are practically glazed over as I stare out the window at the “K” below.
The weather has been unreliable since we returned from winter break and as snow begins to fall outside of the glass, I find myself groaning knowing I will have to walk back to my dorm in the snow.
“Kat,” Elijah says, his irritation at my lack of attention resurfacing.
“What?” I ask.
“I asked if you have to take notes on chapter six too, or just chapter five.”
“Just chapter five.”
In what feels like my saving grace, Marcus and Jenna appear through the elevator on the other side of the room.
“Jenna!” I yell as I raise my hand above my head, earning myself a very aggressive “Shhh” and a glare from the employee sitting behind the information desk.
Jenna and Marcus spot me and Elijah sitting at the far end of the area filled with tables, our backs to the stacks. They approach us and Elijah seems to get the point, closing my textbook .
“Hey guys!” Marcus grins as he approaches us, resting his arm atop Elijah’s head. The glare Elijah pins him with quickly prompts him to remove his arm.
Jenna laughs at the interaction before turning to me. “What are you guys working on?” she asks.
“We were working on stuff for my business finance class, but we were just wrapping up.”
“Awesome! Do you guys want to grab lunch?”
I turn to Elijah, who shrugs, a tell of indifference I’ve grown to know well.
“We’re down.”
We pack up our study supplies before heading across the street to the student center. As we approach the big glass doors, I groan, realizing the door is locked.
“What the hell?” I mutter.
“‘Closed due to maintenance issues,’” Elijah reads off the paper taped to the inside of the window.
“Busted pipe,” Marcus interjects as he looks down at his phone with his email open.
“But…I wanted a bagel.” I pout, and Elijah laughs.
“I’m sure they have something that will fulfill your cravings over at Rosie’s. Let’s go.” He slings an arm around my shoulders and we all start walking.
Rosie’s Diner is located right in the heart of the Tri-Towers Rotunda, one of the clusters of dorm buildings on campus. It is also the only restaurant on campus that is open twenty-four hours a day, so it tends to be best eaten at two in the morning when you’re slightly too tipsy. The food is better that way.
Either way, greasy diner food will always sound good, even if you’re fully aware it might not feel all that great in an hour or two.
We order at the kiosk and grab drinks from the fountain before entering the campus diner, a familiar spot for Jenna and me. It’s our go-to late-night hangout, where we sit at the bar-style counter facing the bustling kitchen. But today, with the bright midday sun streaming through the windows, we opt for a table along the far wall. The four of us squeeze into a booth as we await our orders to be called.
“Sooooooo,” Jenna says, overdramatically dragging the word out until we all look her way.
“What?” I ask.
“What are we thinking for spring break?”
“Spring break is next month—wouldn’t we have needed to book something already?” I ask.
“Not necessarily,” Elijah chimes in as he leans forward in his seat, his arm resting on the back of the booth. “My parents have a beach house in Myrtle Beach; they’re never there in March. We could all go there.”
Jenna stares at him, her mouth agape. “How is this the first time I’m hearing about this?”
“Because you never asked,” Elijah laughs.
She turns to Marcus with the same shocked expression, but he just shrugs in response.
The three of them start discussing spring break in more detail, but I can’t help but feel a rush of anxiety about it. I can’t put my finger on it, but the idea of going to the Hanases’ beach house has me ready to vomit all over this table.
“Are you down?” Jenna asks me.
“Hm? ”
“Are you down to go to Elijah’s parents’ beach house for spring break?”
“Oh, yeah, it sounds fun.” I take a massive gulp of my pop, trying to satisfy my suddenly dry mouth.
“Are you good?” Elijah asks quietly.
I nod in response, not sure how to convey how I’m feeling. I must be having an off day.
“Fantastic!” Jenna squeals. “I’ll start looking at flights tonight.”
“No need—we’ll drive!” Marcus says with a grin.