All was well during the second week at the prestigious Cornell University. For Luke Grun, classes were going smoothly, family friends made seldom appearances, and he had just enough involvement in campus life to remain content. If the rest of the semester remained like it was, he could coast.
As the rest of the class leaked in from outside, Luke took a seat for his second class of the day, Composition I. Only once he began taking out his notebook he realized that not even a full week into class and he had already forgotten to do homework; the simple task of annotating an article.
Quickly he began scrambling to finish his assignment when a burning liquid splashed and trickled down his back. It was hot, piping hot, the initial pain and shock alone made him want to tear his shirt off.
“Agh!” A few students turned their heads. “What the hell!?”
{❧} - Everything still felt grey and hazy during the second week of classes at Cornell University. While Mithien Penhale’s physical symptoms had completely vanished, the ache was still deep in her chest. Guilt gnawed at her constantly, and focusing hard on school work was the only thing that kept the thoughts from becoming overwhelming. She kept herself closed off, speaking to no one, despite the multiple calls and texts from her family and her friends from high school (who she realized were giving up on her - and she let them). Her main goal was to keep her head down and get good grades, and that was it. She didn’t know how to deal with the loss and the guilt, and maybe she didn’t deserve to figure out how to overcome them.
She moved into the classroom with her head down, following the final stream of students as they trickled inside. Most people had taken their seats by now, and Mithien walked quickly to avoid being noticed, a cup of freshly ordered, steaming hot tea gripped in one hand, faintly burning her fingertips through the paper.
Shifting her messenger bag with her free hand, Mithien spotted an empty seat and swerved towards it. She moved forward, oblivious to the bag laying next to another student’s chair, sticking out into the aisle. Her sandal caught on the edge, and she tipped forward, the tea cup tumbling from her hands and landing right on another student, spilling steaming liquid onto his back.
Mithien scrambled to right herself, eyes widening as she realized what she had done. “Sorry!” she blurted, clutching her hands anxiously together. “Are you alright?”
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