Page 37
“Shit,” I hiss. Watching in horror as the finger of my glove starts to fill with blood, I’m up and out of my stool and grabbing a paper towel before I can fully process what just happened.
“Everything okay, Eden?” Edward asks as he comes into the room. Upon seeing me hunched over and covered in blood, his face pales. “What happened?”
“Broken slide,” I manage to whisper. The slides we use are thin pieces of glass and as you’d expect if you apply too much pressure to them, they snap.
Edward guides me back to my seat and gently pulls my glove off. The cut is tiny, thankfully. The blood has slowed down from a spurt to a gentle trickle. “I’ll get a Band-Aid.” He brings the first-aid kit over and gets to work.
“I’m sorry,” I say as he flushes the wound. Tears prick at the corner of my eyes, somehow more painful than the cut. “I wasn’t concentrating and got complacent and then all of the sudden it just—” Edward looks up to me, concern evident behind his glasses.
“It wasn’t your fault, Eden. These things happen all the time. You should see the scars on my fingers!”
I take a deep breath as he presses the Band-Aid on. “Thank you.”
“Do you want to leave this for today? Maybe go get some food and drink?”
I nod, not trusting myself to talk. Dropping my lab coat off to be washed I grab my bag and head back to my room. I grab a chai and croissant on the way home, which may be my first meal of the day. I can’t remember.
Slipping into a pair of trackies and a hoodie, I hop under a blanket and precariously balance my laptop on my knees, ready to watch some of my lectures for this week. I don’t usually do so in bed, but desperate times and all that. It’s so comfortable here and with the rain gently hitting the window outside, my head starts to drop. Lower and lower until—
My phone buzzes and I jerk awake. The sun has set, and I’m groggy. My mouth feels like shit and with a start I realise I’ve slept for three hours. Three hours I could have used for studying. I groan, rubbing my eyes, and press to pick up the call.
“Eden! There you are!” Mum’s in the kitchen, phone propped up to the side as she makes dinner. She’s glowing from the light of the range hood and looks at the screen properly when I don’t respond instantly. “Is everything okay?”
Stretching, my stomach grumbles. I miss my mum’s cooking, that’s for sure, and a croissant isn’t enough to sustain me for too long. “Yeah. Sorry. I fell asleep doing work. Probably my fault for doing it in bed.”
Mum tuts. “Means you’ve been working too hard.” Stirring something on the cooktop, she turns her attention back to me. “Tell me about this research project.”
A dreamy smile stretches across my face. “It’s just the best. Well, except for,” I hold my finger up to show Mum, and she gasps. “It’s fine. I promise. Broken slide sliced right through me.”
“You have to be more careful, Eden! It could have been much worse.”
“I know. I was distracted. It won’t happen again.”
“Distracted by a boy!” Jake shouts from across the kitchen and Mum flicks a tea towel at him.
“Go set the table and leave your sister alone!” She turns back to me, a knowing smile on her face. “But were you distracted by a boy?” I blush, which Mum takes as an answer. “You should invite him to the farm.”
Why has everyone been suggesting that lately?
“Absolutely not.” An eyebrow raised in my direction is all it takes to stop my argument.
“Just gently introduce it, okay? See where it goes.”
“Okay,” I say, mostly to placate Mum. “Alright. I’ll see you in a couple of weeks.” Mum blows a kiss at the screen which I return, then I hang up. My room is dark, cold. So unlike the warmth of the farmhouse that it makes my chest ache. I try not to think too much about home, because it hurts. It always hurts. My stomach growls, again. I really do miss Mum’s cooking.
* * *
The mid-semester break is next week, which I honestly cannot wait for. It gives me a chance to go back to the farm and see my family, something I’ve been missing lately. Crazy how you can want silence one minute and crave the craziness the next. And— of course— help manage the annual Easter show. Every country town has one. As Mum is a teacher at the local high school, my family is responsible for the art exhibition.
The break may not include much university work, but it’ll let me reset. And try my hardest to get Oliver out of my system. As much as I want him to distract me, I just can’t risk it. Not now. Not when I’m so close to finishing. So close to the PhD program of my dreams.
I can already feel my usual focus on study slipping, which just reconfirms why I’ve been avoiding men for the last few years.
The tutor knocks me out of my daydream when she calls my name. I look up from my laptop and at the projector, trying my best to assume what she’s asking based on the slides.
“Gas-liquid chromatography?” The tutor nods and returns back to her lecture. Thank God. I’m not proud of it, but this definitely isn’t the first time I’ve had to desperately scramble for an answer because I’ve been too busy daydreaming about Oliver. Seriously, who knew boys could be so detrimental to study?
The lecture ends without further incident. I gather my things ready to head to the library when my phone buzzes. Oliver and I have a session in a few hours, so I’m more than surprised to see his name pop up on my screen.
