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CHAPTER 2 - EMILY
I threw my textbook onto my bed, deciding that I absolutely had to be done for the night. As tempting as it may have been to continue to force myself to work, I couldn’t do it. Not again.
There were only so many all-nighters you could pull before sleep deprivation hit you. And it was definitely hitting me.
It was my last year at Beasley, though, and I supposed this was just how the last year was supposed to go. After this year, I’d have my degree in civil engineering, and it’d all be worth it.
I collapsed onto my bed, feeling the soft blue blanket that sat atop my comforter against my cheek. I could fall asleep right here and now, if I didn’t still need to get up and brush my teeth.
Knowing me, after I brushed my teeth, I’d come back to bed and stay awake while having a minor existential crisis. At least, that was how every other night of my week had gone.
I’d always been a person who was prone to overthinking. I’d analyze every aspect of my life until I started to feel either very calm or very panicked, depending on the current state of my life. You’d think right now, I’d be feeling very calm, considering I was theoretically exactly where I’d always wanted to be in life.
I was about to get my degree. I had a pretty good job in Beasley’s cafeteria in the meantime. I loved my living situation. There wasn’t anything really going wrong in my life, nothing that should have been causing me real stress.
And yet, real stress had found me, as it always did.
It was like the closer I got to graduation, the more stressed I became. Graduation should’ve been a good thing, but the thought of transitioning from college life to real life was more than a little daunting.
It prompted me to ask some hard questions of myself. The biggest and worst question being, had I made a mistake? Was any of this really what I’d even wanted?
I used to think I’d enjoy civil engineering. And of course, civil engineers made good money, which had factored into my decision to become one.
But lately, I wasn’t sure. I definitely didn’t enjoy my classes; the subject matter didn’t interest me whatsoever. My last year of college was probably the worst time to figure that out, but the closer I got to graduation, the less I was able to lie to myself. I didn’t like my major.
It wasn’t the end of the world; plenty of people ended up discovering they didn’t like their majors. Even more, plenty of people worked jobs they didn’t enjoy. In fact, I’d argue that most people ended up working jobs they didn’t enjoy. So after college, I’d likely fit right in. And at least if I wasn’t enjoying it, I’d be making good money doing it.
It didn’t change the fact that it was frustrating, though. It wasn’t really what I’d pictured when I’d graduated high school. I’d always imagined I’d fall into a job I loved, a field I loved. Though I should’ve known better, because the things I loved didn’t really make good money.
I’d always been naturally creative at heart. While I’d always been able to make myself more organized and focused for school, it wasn’t my natural tendency. I’d always liked to do things like draw and, even more so, sing. Music had always been a passion of mine, though I hadn’t learned any instruments, since it hadn’t been something I had time to truly explore.
Music among many other things. Because of the push of my parents, I’d always been very driven in school and had done anything I could to find educational success. That was the only reason I’d even been able to end up at an Ivy League school like Beasley. If it hadn’t been for my impeccable grades in high school, I likely would never have gotten in.
Because of this, I hadn’t had many friendships either. And forget about relationships, I wouldn’t even have known where to begin. My only real friend in college was my roommate, Abby.
She was my complete opposite, but she was an absolute doll to me. She didn’t have the same focus for school that I had. She enjoyed going out, partying, living life to the fullest, while I stayed in and studied. But she had never made me feel weird about it. Unlike with other people, I’d never felt insecure about who I was around her.
I heard the front door bang shut, and I knew what that meant. Abby must have gotten home. Very likely by the sound of the door, she was drunk again, too.
I decided this was the perfect time to force myself to brush my teeth and go to bed. That way, I could check on Abby at the same time and kill two birds with one stone.
As I opened up my bedroom door, I glanced down our narrow apartment hallway and called her name. “Abby?”
“I’m home!” she said excitedly, as if I hadn’t figured that out on my own.
“You don’t say,” I said. “How was your night?”
She came stumbling down the hallway, kicking off her high heels and grinning at me.
“Oh my god, it was so fun! I wish you’d come out. We monopolized the karaoke machine all night!”
She knew I didn’t like to go out, but she always pressured me to go with her whenever King’s Tooth, our campus pub, had karaoke. I had gone with her and her friends once, and she had never let up since then.
I rolled my eyes. “You know singing in front of people really isn’t my thing.”
“Unless you’re wasted,” she reminded me, “and it should be your thing! You’re so damn good. Like, you’re literally the only
one of us that can sing, and you’re the most embarrassed. I sound like a dying cat, but I still go up there.”
