Annie and I had been randomly assigned to be study partners for our Psych 101 class at the start of the semester. Basically, all this meant is that once a week, instead of meeting with our normal class, we would meet separately to discuss the week's readings and go over any challenging materials together. We hit it off early, connecting over a few mutual friends and sharing similar outlooks on our future. Annie's mom was a Chinese immigrant to America, which meant that she put a lot of pressure on Annie from a young age to get a career in medicine. Annie had obliged, but noted to me that she picked clinical psychology mainly because it was, as she put it, the "least doctor-y doctorate." My parents, a couple of blue collar workers who moved here together from Poland, had always put a lot of academic pressure on me because they didn't want me to "waste that good brain of yours." I was studying to be a high school English teacher, which I think is a respectable enough job for my parents liking.
Each week Annie and I would vent to one another about how much pressure we were putting on ourselves, and it was always something I looked forward to on Thursday afternoons, when we would book a private study room in the library for our meetings.
And this week was no different. As I walked across campus, I whistled quietly to myself, enjoying the cool Spring air before I plunged into the dark, musty cave that was our University Library. I found my way up the stairs to the third floor annex where our usual spot is. Most students didn't have any reason to be digging for books up there, so Annie and I were able to study without the usual bustle of the library. Once I got to our room, 325C, I shot Annie a text.
"I'm waiting..." I said sarcastically, pausing to read it over once more to make sure the tone came across right before sending it. "Shit!" she replied immediately, "I'll be right up." It is probably worth noting that I have had a crush on Annie since day one. Though I've never had the courage to try anything with her, the two of us have always lightly teased each other. This semi-flirty banter has increased in our last few sessions, and I wonder if she has felt the same tension I do when we are sitting besides each other comparing notes.
A short while later, I heard a light knock on the door as the knob turned and Annie walked in. She was wearing baggy gray sweatpants and a white tank-top that hugged tightly against her slender torso. Her hair was done up in a messy bun, with two strands of hair falling down in front of her glasses, framing each side of her face. As she walked in, I found myself glancing down, noticing two nubs poking at the fabric of her top; she wasn't wearing a bra!
"What are you looking at, stupid?" she said dryly, as I realized I had been staring a moment too long. "Oh, uh, nothing," I stuttered out as she gave me a knowing smirk and sat down in the office chair beside me.
"How's your day been?" I asked, trying to quickly brush past that mortifying moment. "Not bad, I heard back from a professor on an anatomy exam I took last week. I got a 64 percent." She hung her head down as she said this, putting it in her arms against the table in defeat. "Hey," I said, "you can't win 'em all. You and I both know that." As I said this, I reached out and patted her thigh. I don't know what came over me at this moment, but it felt like the right thing to do. Even with her head against the desk, I heard her inhale sharply. She looked up at me, and I could see her eyes were teary. I put a hand on her shoulder blade, feeling the thin strap of her top resting against her back.
Next thing I knew, she had wrapped her arms around me in a big hug. Taken aback for a moment, I then relaxed into her embrace, pressing her closer into mine. We sat like that--she was still partially seated in her chair and I was being pressed into mine--for what felt like an eternity but was in actuality probably only a minute. "Thank you," I heard a muffled voice coming from where she had pressed her face into my sweatshirt. I felt her shift her weight, and looked to see that she was now straddling one of my legs, seated gently on my lower thigh. She leaned out of our hug, and we made direct eye contact. From my peripheral vision, I noticed that the small nubs on her chest had grown, pushing further through her shirt as if they wanted to escape.
