The Scars of Anatomy

23. Brutal

The week back after Thanksgiving break is brutal. Everyone is walking around like zombies, probably still hungover from the holiday, but most of all, they're dreading the next three weeks.

The few short weeks leading up to finals are utter hell. Kids are running around like chickens with their heads cut off, some of them crying or jitterier than a junky from solely running off of caffeine, and most look like pure death. Everyone is already so worn down from the semester and they've all gotten a taste of what the month long Christmas break is going to be like that there's no turning back now. We're all just trying to push our way through these next three weeks to survive and keep our sanity, but the professors are ruthless.

As if cramming a semesters worth of material into one final test isn't gruesome enough, some even tack on last minute projects and papers like it's no big deal. They act as if they're asking you to just add one extra item to your grocery list.

Aside from stress and pure mental exhaustion, finals are usually the time of year everyone starts getting sick. From Thanksgiving to Christmas, every year without fail, campus seems to be the breeding grounds for the plague, everyone's immune system depleted due to stress.

Wednesday afternoon, I stroll into the science building for lab. I walk down the hall and round the corner to find Olivia standing outside our classroom, talking to Delilah.

My steps falter a bit, taking in her appearance. Her skin is pale, eyes tired as she tries to focus on what Delilah's saying. She looks so worn down and fragile. She looks like she's sick.

At this point I wouldn't doubt it, with the time of the year and with the number of times she was out in the cold for extended periods of time this past week. Aside from the ice storm and walking to and from class, she also sat out in the cold with her dad the day after Thanksgiving to watch me play. Her dad really wanted to catch a college game before the season is over and she tagged along with him, even though I told her she didn't have to.

Thanksgiving at her house was perfect. I accidentally showed up a half an hour late due to sleeping in, not getting much sleep the night before from sleeping in Mrs. Cooper's office. But Olivia assured me it was fine, her and her mom were still cooking while her dad was parked on the couch, nursing a beer and watching the game when I got there.

Dinner was amazing and I actually really enjoyed watching and discussing the football game with her dad. I could tell he enjoyed having another football enthusiast in the room to talk to. That's when he asked to come watch my game the following day, and Olivia decided to tag along with him, undeniably making me giddy, even though I worried about her sitting out in the cold. 

Again, the day was absolutely perfect. Her family is so down to earth and inviting, and the food was phenomenal. Her house was warm and cozy, and the fireplace was going with a light hit of cinnamon hanging it the air. It was like being in a fucking Hallmark movie. Especially when we were all cozied up in the living room after dinner, a movie playing on the TV while it lightly snowed outside and the fire crackled inside.

I've never had a Thanksgiving like that before. Every once in a while, when I was really little, my mom would sometimes bother to show up to my grandma's house. That is if she was just sober enough to remember that it was Thanksgiving and we'd been starving for the past week. Even sometimes I would get lucky enough to stay at my grandma's house for the night, in a comfortable, warm bed. But even then, it didn't feel like a holiday at all.

Walking closer, I can see the dark circles under Olivia's eyes, the ones that are usually a warm honey color, now a dull brown. She's blinking slowly and heavily, her breathing suddenly labored as she seems to struggle to keep her eyes open. Her face seems to grow paler and her legs seem to sway beneath her.