Page 94 of Zimyra

She stands and walks closer to me. I swing my legs up on the sofa, lying face up and she lies face down on top of me. She rests her head on my chest. I close my arms around her.

Dang, this feels good. This makes two nights in a row that I got to have her in my arms. I could get used to this.

CHAPTER 26

I spent all day Sundaystudying for this test, not to mention all day at work on MondayandMonday night. Now, it’s test time and I’m sitting in the auditorium of this college along with fifteen – maybe twenty other people massaging my temple, unable to focus. I didn’t know what format this test would be in. Multiple choice would’ve been nice. At least having to narrow answers down came with an advantage, but this wasn’t anywhere close to that. The format: They give us a word and we had to explain what it was and give an example.

I’m sitting here staring at the wordclerestorynot even knowing where to start. I scan over the other words and cringe. What doespatinaandenfilademean in relation to interior design? And what the heck is acabriole leg? Okay, timeout—I do know these things, but my concentration is off and every time I close my eyes, I think about the attack. If it’s not that, it’s constant thoughts of Axel and the way I’ve allowed him into my life like he’s a permanent figure when all he’s been is a distraction. After all, that’s one of the main reasons I decided to stay single – so I could do what I needed to do for myself.

I’ve veered off that path, and there’s no one to blame but myself.

I knew I failed before I went home and logged onto my student dashboard. According to the official requirements, I had to score at least a 70 to pass and I scored a 62. I’ve never scored so low on anything in my life.

I feel like a failure.

I shower and sit on the bed, bringing my knees forward and wrapping my arms around my legs, telling myself I’m better than this. It’s a setback I wasn’t expecting, but I also wasn’t expecting all this other stuff to happen to me either.

I called out of work on Wednesday, prompting Axel to straight blow up my phone looking for me. He texted me last night to see how the test went, but I was so upset with myself, I didn’t bother replying.

Sensing I needed some girl time, Capri stops by and scoops me up for dinner. She doesn’t take no for an answer.

She drives to a new restaurant called Hot Pot where they serve endless ramen that you can dress up how you like.

I walk to the ramen bar and fill a bowl full of noodles, the broth that it’s prepared in, and add green onions, two boiled eggs, sausage, red bell pepper, and shrimp. The savory aroma has my tastebuds working already. This is just what I need after not eating all day.

We sit and Capri says, “I came to this place with one of my coworkers and instantly said I was going to bring you back here with me.”

“And here we are,” I say as enthusiastically as I can. She’s my best friend, so she knows I’m faking it.

She says, “Eat. I want you to tell me what you think.”

I twist my fork to add some noodles, then add a shrimp and a little onion. At first bite, it’s absolutely phenomenal. “Oh my…this is so good. How can something so simple bethisgood?”

“Sometimes, simplicity is all that’s required. I think people stress themselves out when they try to do too much.”

I feel like she’s talking about me with that statement. No, sheistalking about me. How this discussion about food came full circle to me speaks to the intelligence of my friend who knows more about me than she probably should. But we all need that one person who keeps our secrets. A person you know you can count on to be loyal and give it to you straight. I have my family – yes, and I love them – but Capri is a personIchose. We chose each other.

I say, “I hear you loud and clear, Capri.”

“Do you think you’re doing too much?”

“Um…no?” I answer in the form of a question because I honestly don’t think I’m doing too much, but it’s obvious that she thinks I am.

“Lately, you’ve been seriously M.I.A., and I know I have too, being newly engaged and all, but I’m concerned. I’ve been worried even more about you since—well, you know.”

I sigh. “I’m doing fine.”

“You are? Be real with me?”

“Yes. I mean, it happened. I’m getting over it. I had the paint and sip with my tenants, and—”

“How’d that go?”

“It went well. Everything went according to plan.”

“And what about your test?”

I eat some more noodles, and then take a sip of water and confess, “I failed, and before you go making a big deal about it, I can take it again in a few months.”

---