Page 13

Eliana

“ A re you sure there’s nothing else I missed?” I stare at the Word document in front of me, waiting for some glaringly obvious mistake to jump out at me.

“I’m positive, Ellie. I’ve looked over your drafts multiple times, and it’s perfect. It’s strong. You’re ready,” Violet reassures me.

“You don’t think I need to buff out my skills section more? Or add another few sentences about my career goals and how this summer internship would get me there?” I feel a tension headache starting to build and I try my best to unclench my jaw.

“Nope. It’s perfect as is. You sent this to Bethany, right?”

“Yes.”

“And what did she say?”

“That it was a super impressive application and Kathrine Fisher will be dying to have me,” I whisper.

“So what are you waiting for? Go ahead and submit it.”

“My CV font is currently in Georgia. Should I change it to Times New Roman? Or maybe Calibri?” I frantically pull up the document while also doing a quick google search for fonts that are accepted by the American Psychological Association.

Calibri, Arial, Lucida Sans Unicode, Times New Roman, Georgia, or Computer Modern. Okay. We were fine. Everything’s fine.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so tense before. And that is saying something.” Violet gives me a sympathetic look.

“Sorry. Getting this internship would just be so perfect. It’s not every day that you get to work with one of the most renowned researchers in developmental neuroscience.

And I’m thinking of applying to grad school next year, so my anxiety is just all over the place right now.

” I take a deep breath, trying to slow my heartbeat down.

“One, as I’ve stated before, you’re an absolute shoo-in for this program. You’ve worked so hard the last three years, and they’d be more than lucky to have you. And two, you put a lot of pressure on yourself. I get it, I do. But I hope you realize how amazing you are and give yourself some grace.”

The tension in my shoulders relaxes a bit. “You’re right. You’re right. Okay, I’m going to submit it.” I hold my breath as I scan through the application portal one more time before pressing submit. “Welp, it’s done. All we can do now is cross our fingers and hope for the best.”

“It’ll all work out, trust me. Do you know when you’ll hear back?”

“The application portal closes tonight, and they said interview invites should go out about two weeks after that. Which means I should probably start doing prep for that just in case.”

I couldn’t help but overprepare for almost every major thing in my life. If there’s one thing I hate, it’s not having control over things, so naturally, anything I could control I tried my damndest, even if sometimes I went a bit overboard when planning out my life .

“Feel free to throw something in my calendar if you want to do a mock interview with me.”

“Has anyone ever told you how amazing you are?” I meant every single word.

Before I enrolled at Westchester, I had no idea what research even looked like or that I could have a career doing it.

Being the first in my family to go to college, I felt like I was already behind compared to my classmates.

So many of them already knew what they wanted to do or had already started working towards the career paths they were seeking while I was trying to figure out how to register for all the right classes and that my work-study checks were coming through.

I met Violet in my freshman year of college after taking a class she was a teaching assistant for.

On day one she announced she was looking for a research assistant to work in her lab.

I applied without a second thought. Despite my lack of experience, she decided to take a chance on me.

I don’t think I’d ever be able to thank her enough for it.

“Ditto. I really couldn’t imagine how behind I’d be on my dissertation if you weren’t helping me run MRI sessions. And not to mention how you stepped up to tutor one of my students. I don’t know how you’re juggling so much at once.”

“Eh aren’t we all juggling a hundred things at once? Just part of life.” I shrug.

“Life will definitely throw some curve balls at you when you least expect it. Which is why it’s important to take care of yourself as much as you can.”

“Absolutely. I agree 100%.”

“Do you, though?” Violet asks, looking skeptical.

The vibe in the room shifts and I get the sense there’s something she wants to say but isn’t quite sure how I’ll react. “Whatever’s on your mind, you can go ahead and say it. I promise I won’t take it personally. ”

“I think you need to make more time for yourself. And not just time to do work or school-related things. Time where you can start a new hobby, write that murder mystery you’ve been trying to start for years now, or even just relax and take a breath.”

“I appreciate you looking out for me. And you’re right. I should be better about making time for myself.”.

“When is that going to be? I can promise you it won’t be in grad school. Or when you’re trying to secure a faculty position. And not when you’re first starting out as a professor.”

“Well I guess I’ll just sleep when I’m dead then.” I attempt to make a joke, but the unimpressed look on Violet’s face tells me it falls flat.

“I’m serious Ellie. I say this from my own experience when I say no one is ever going to force you to take a break. You have to be able to set those boundaries yourself and stick to them. Or else you’re going to burn out before you even make it to grad school.”

Even if I wanted to argue with Violet, I couldn’t. Not when I knew she was right. “I hear you. Honestly. I’ll work on saying no to things. And taking time for myself. I promise.”

“Hockey House is hosting a party this weekend. Tutors are invited.” Jake winks at me from across the table.

It’s Thursday morning and just as he did two days ago, he showed up at 5:45 with a coffee and a smile.

When I criticized his 15-minute early arrival, he explained to me that if he didn’t leave “Hockey House” (the house he shares with his 10 roommates, I learned) by 5:30, he’d get roped into extra morning workouts.

“I’m your emotional support friend, not your drinking buddy. And definitely not your tutor. “

He raises an eyebrow. “I didn’t realize there were friend categories. And I think it could be good for you to let your hair down for once.”

Ouch. Between Violet and Jake calling me a workaholic, maybe I could use a weekend off. Didn’t mean I had to spend it getting drunk though. Weekends off were for relaxing, and beer pong and groping didn’t sound relaxing to me. “Pass.”

“C’mon Ellie. It could be fun.”

I blink, not realizing we had reached the level of friendship that included nicknames. “I’m busy Saturday night.”

“You’re going clubbing instead?” He cocks his head at me, a glimmer in his eye.

“Nope.” Though I did love dancing.

“Dive bar?”

“Definitely more my speed. But also no.”

“So…girl’s night? Your friends are welcome to come too.”

“I have a paper I need to finish, which will happen on Saturday.”

Jake’s jaw drops. “What do you mean you have a paper to write? That’s your idea of fun?” He scoffs.

His mocking tone pisses me off. Friends don’t judge other friends for trying to be successful.

“I never said I don’t have any plans. I said my plans don’t involve being stuck in a dingy frat basement or getting so drunk I can’t function for the rest of the weekend,” I snap.

“Now if we can get back to our respective tasks, that would be great.”

Jake was a little rude, but the fact that I hadn’t eaten an actual meal since lunch the day before was the main contributor to my attitude.

I had been way too busy this week to find time to buy groceries.

Plus, my mom called two days ago lamenting about the cost of Josie’s field trip which I offered to cover, effectively wiping out my bank account.

My direct deposit went through today, which meant the second I was done here, I would treat myself to a bacon, egg, and cheese from the Beanery, followed by a trip to the grocery store.

My current task was making a cost-efficient shopping list.

“You’re in a mood today,” Jake notes.

“And you’re nosey.”

“True. But Tuesday Ellie would’ve just rolled her eyes and kept it moving. But today, you’re looking for a fight. Why’s that?” He raises an eyebrow.

“Maybe it’s because you’re being particularly insufferable today. Have you considered that?”

He taps his index finger on his chin a few times, contemplating. “Nope. I don’t think that’s it. I think you’re upset I?—"

His words are cut off by the embarrassingly loud sound of my stomach growling. My eyes widen as I clear my throat, attempting to cover the noise.

I expected him to tease me about it or, at the very least, look smug about the fact that he figured out my bad mood, but instead, he just looks concerned. “Maybe you should take a break and make some breakfast? I promise to do my homework for this week while you do.”

“Do your homework or don’t. I’m not your tutor, remember?”

“I’m serious. I don’t want you skipping meals to entertain me.”

“I’ll just eat something after.” My stomach conveniently grumbles obnoxiously.

Jake pushes himself away from the table and walks towards my kitchen, a determined look on his face.

He throws open my fridge and grunts at the sheer emptiness of it.

He turns his attention to my cabinets next, also extremely empty, which draws another irritated noise.

“Is all your food hidden somewhere or? ”

“I’m all out. I’ve been too busy this week to go to the grocery store. My plan was to go after our session.”

“When’s the last time you had something to eat?”

“Um, I had a pretty big lunch yesterday...”

He looks aghast. “Are you being serious?”

“Not everyone needs 6 eggs and a pack of bacon a day for breakfast, okay? Us non-athletes can survive on granola bars and coffee. We actually prefer it that way. What are you doing?” I watch as he throws on his coat and grabs his wallet, leaving the rest of his belongings.

“Going to grab us some breakfast. Any specific requests?”

“Jake sit down. Let’s just finish this and then I can head to the grocery store.”

“Actually, I’m starving . I only had 4 eggs and half a pack of bacon. This is more for me than for you.”

My eyes narrow at his obvious deflection. “I can take care of myself just fine.”

“Never said you couldn’t. Now, what will it be? Chocolate croissant? Breakfast sandwich?”

“Jake, I?—”

My words die as he leaves me and my weak excuses behind.