CHAPTER TWO — STEPHANIE
BEEP!
BEEP!
A loud, confusing sound jolts me. I sit up abruptly in my bed, opening my eyes.
I look around, disoriented. It takes a few seconds for reality to sink in.
It was just a dream.
I'm surprised that I feel a small pang of disappointment, and not relief.
I shake my head. Everyone dreams about weird things, I tell myself as I stumble onto the cold hardwood floor and walk towards my closet. It doesn't mean anything. I look at myself in the mirror and notice my skin is flushed.
Right?
My phone buzzes, and I pick it up. It's a text from David.
Stephanie, you're not permitted to vape. If you continue, I'll have no choice but to end your residency.
-David.
I roll my eyes. Why do old people always text like this? My mom does it, too. It's like they're sending an email or something. I've tried to explain to her the difference between text and email a million times, but it doesn't make a difference.
I decide not to answer David's text and try to put it out of my mind. It's hard though. For the rest of the day, while I'm in classes, David and that damn dream keep popping into my mind. I feel myself getting embarrassed each time I think about it, even though nobody knows about it except me.
Maybe I'm just stressed. After all, finals are coming up soon.
I grab my vape and take a quick puff, inhaling the cherry flavor. Fuck him. He has no idea what it's like being a young person these days. It's stressful. He was lucky enough to get in on the housing market while it was still possible to afford a house.
Gen X-ers like him have no idea what it's like out there these days. He's out of line.
Besides, vaping doesn't even smell like anything. I mean, at most it smells like cherry. Give me a break.
He's a control freak. That's all it is.
Are we still on for tonight?
I look at my phone. It's a text from this guy I've been seeing, Brayden. He's in my kinesiology class, and he seems sweet.
I mean, if I'm being honest, I'm not that attracted to him, but all my friends have been bugging me to give a guy our age a chance for once. So I said yes to the date. To be honest, though, I'm already regretting it.
It would be super rude to cancel at this point, though. I should go.
I text Brayden back.
Yep.
He replies almost immediately.
Awesome.
He sends a smiley emoji a few seconds later. I try to suppress my involuntary grimace as I reply.
Meet you there at 6:00 at Cantina?
He thumbs up my message. I wait for a minute or two, waiting to see if he'll offer to pick me up. He doesn't. I try not to feel disappointed. Driving is expensive these days, I remind myself.
No one can afford a car these days. I'm trying to talk myself out of my disappointment. And it's kind of working, kind of… until the image of David's black Mercedes pops into my head.
Just another example of his privilege. Although, I also can't help but think that David certainly would offer to pick me up.
I shake my head. Why am I thinking things like this? The stress really must be getting to me. I need to have fun tonight, let loose a little.