"Yeah," she sighed. "I'm just not sure I'll be able to get this done before it's due." She had been tapping furiously at her laptop, pausing every so often to swear and delete everything she had just typed.
"Isn't it due next week?"
"With work and my other classes, it's going to be tight. I don't want to swap quality for finishing it fast. I don't know why this is so difficult."
I watched her start over. We were at my place. Sometimes I worked better with a study buddy. Usually, she wasn't so stressed out, though. I figured it was just balancing work and school that was getting to her. It was hard. She had a lot on her plate, and I worried sometimes that she'd hit burnout and never recover. She was writing a paper for one of her economics classes, so it wasn't even one I could look at and help her put together.
"How about starting with something else? Or tackling the easiest part first."
"I should get this out of the way first."
"If you do that, you'll never get to anything else. Do something simpler first. No, you know what? Let's take a break," I announced. I got up and walked into the kitchen. I started on making us both cups of coffee; I knew how Tiffany liked hers. Sweet and white, maybe it would help. She took it gratefully when I came back to the dining room. Her laptop was shut and books closed.
"Better?" I asked as she took a sip."
"Let's see in about ten minutes," she smiled wryly.
"Can you believe the people who come back to school after kids and stuff? Can you imagine parenting and studying at the same time?"
"I don't know where the hell I would start. This is hard enough," she said. "I'm barely keeping it together having a job at the same time."
"You're doing great," I said, smiling at her.
"Maybe it's a good thing I don't have a boyfriend. I wouldn't even have time for him."
"Yeah, if he was needy like a five-year-old and not also a student."
"College relationships are pointless," she said, "no offense. I mean the other ones. Not yours."
"I'm in a relationship?"
"I'd say going on dates and hooking up means you're in a relationship," she said smirking at me.
"I don't know whether we're labeling it."
"You don't have to. The labeling happens whether you like it or not. You're acting like a taken woman already."
"Taken," I scoffed. I had a weird feeling about being taken, especially by Roman. I had been for so long, then suddenly wasn't. I didn't know whether I was comfortable with saying that I was again, no matter how many dates we went on or how many times we slept together.
"Did you guys talk before he left?"
"He came here yesterday to say goodbye."
"He did? That was sweet."
"He was still leaving, though."
"You're really not giving him that?"
"No, I am. I'm just saying. It's getting more and more complicated."
"Complicated in a good way, though, right?"
"It would be good if he didn't have to leave," I said. "I know he has to and he wouldn't if he didn't need to do it, but it still sucks."
"You're falling for him."
"We dated for almost three years."