Touch my soul

"Don't tell me you're not ready yet, Dante!" We should have been there by now! I hear the brunette's tickling voice as she nervously enters the bedroom.

I mutter something indecipherable, I put my head deeper between the pillows, and I pull the quilt up to my head, maybe that way he doesn't see me anymore and lets me sleep. " throwing arrows at me.

"Dante, if you don't get out of bed in a second, I'll have to find other ways to wake you up." And not some you like!5

I lazily lift my head from the pillow and roll my eyes at her, grinning wickedly.1

- I challenge you, darling! I say it in a hoarse voice, then turn to the other side and return to my favorite activity. Well, second on the list.3

The brunette walks away, and I hear the sound of her heels on the floor fading, a sign that she's gone. I smile contentedly and sit better in bed, pampering myself like a cat in the sun. But my happiness doesn't last long, because I suddenly wake up and jump out of bed when dozens of ice cubes make contact with my bare, hot back.10

- You're crazy, woman! It's cold as hell! What's on your mind, bro? I could have a hypothermic shock and die! I screamed like crazy at the woman in front of me, while she laughed out loud. It's really funny, isn't it? I add nervously.8

- I warned you, honey. And stop crying like a little girl. Now put your hand up and get dressed and let's go! Maybe we won't be the last ones, she tells me and pushes me to the bathroom with her little hands. Actually, he's trying, because he doesn't even have the strength to move me.

But I'm an obedient boy, so I like them and in less than fifteen minutes I'm ready to go. Karen is dressed in a steamy, yellow summer dress that contrasts perfectly with her long black hair. I chose to wear a pair of jeans and a white T-shirt. I don't have a style of dressing, my clothes are simple, white, black or gray.6

"I was getting ready to leave without you," I hear Emma's irritated voice as we get into the car.4

- Good morning to you too, Emma. I don't know how the hell you look so good. It was a very bad idea to have the final party before the actual festival, I say grumpily and rub my temples with my fingers, maybe it will leave my headache.

"And who insisted we do that, Dante?" Karen turns to me and looks at me harshly. Besides, we didn't make you drink so much. You say you've never seen alcohol in your life! Now shut up and bear the consequences. And by the way, thanks for the compliment, he adds in a much warmer voice. I'm not saying anything anymore, because I don't want to get in their mouths. I know what it's like. We arrive quietly in front of the university. I get out of the car, run my arms over the two girls' shoulders, and drag my legs to the college garden. Yes, I know, I'm lucky. I have a sexy brunette on the right, and a good tattooed blonde on the left, who supports me. Both literally and figuratively. The relationship between us is ... complicated. But cool.15

I immediately spot the rest of the gang and head for them, occupying the vacancies they kept for us. The new Dante seems to be doing well, because I've made more friends in six months here than in almost twenty-three years in Detroit. I don't have any real friends, maybe just Karen and Emma. It's weird as a man that your best friends are two women. But hey, I'm not too normal either. At least that's what my uncle always tells me.2

18 years. The majority and the age at which most citizens spend their time. Well not in this story. Rose has powers since the age of 1. But not all powers. Face...

He's the only one who knows what's really going on with me, and he's the only one here who knows my past. I am grateful to him for welcoming me into his home when I had no one, and for doing his best to give me the future he thinks he deserves. I decided to run away from Detroit without anyone knowing anything about me, so I took only a few clothes, some money, my papers, and left. I changed my phone number, and decided to break all ties with the past.3

"What do you think, Dante?" Ryan's voice makes me think, and I shake my head when I realize I haven't heard anything being said.

- What were you talking about? Sorry, I was thinking of something.

"Tom says his parents have been providing us with their beach house for a whole week." We were thinking of leaving tomorrow, Ryan explains.

- You're kidding me now, aren't you? I ask through gritted teeth. All you know is that practice starts at the office tomorrow. I can't start on vacation, I tell them irritably.

"But that doesn't mean you can't come on the weekends," Karen tells me and winks at me. He is in the habit of doing this whenever he wants to get something.2

"I'm not going to spend the weekend alone, am I?" I'll be there on Friday! Now let's get this over with and go eat something.1

The festivities are over, we've picked up our diplomas and taken pictures, and now we're heading to the campus cafe. The phone vibrates briefly in my pocket, a sign that I have received a message, so I take it out and read the text message, squinting.2

" Congratulations! I am proud of you! Check your account, I left you a small graduation gift. "1

I lock the phone and toss it back in my pocket, snorting nervously. He shouldn't have had my phone number, that was the main reason I changed it. I need to have a discussion with Art, he's the only one who could have given the new one. I don't know when he'll understand that I don't need his money. He's been feeding me obscene money for a year, but I haven't touched a dime.3

I know where that money comes from, and I'm better off starving than using it.3

No matter how grateful I am to my uncle for the job he offers me in the office, I hate when he tries to get involved in my past. I made a clear decision when I chose to leave. I don't want to deal with that man anymore. He took everything I loved in this world.5

I'm too nervous about the message, so I'm asking Emma to drop me off at home. I need to have that conversation with Art. I'll change my phone number again, and I want to make sure he doesn't pass it on this time. He hasn't got home yet, so I'm going in to take a shower, because this morning I didn't have time to enjoy the hot water jet.2

My thoughts fly to the case of Social Psychology. I got the highest grade on the project. After reading the details of that girl's case, I shuddered. I think that if a person can survive such an episode, they have to be extremely lucky. Especially if it's a fifteen-year-old girl. She was on the verge of losing her life bet, but she struggled for days with a coma until she managed to beat her. He lost his memory, but was left with trauma.3

I got so involved in that case that I tried to imagine what Mia looked like, what her voice looked like, what her perfume smelled like. I'm curious what her life is like now, after five years. Would he go to college? Would she have a boyfriend? According to Walsh, I had the best project. I created the script for the therapy sessions by closing my eyes and imagining it in front of me. I don't know if the diagnosis I made was correct, but apparently I did something right. I deduced that she would suffer from post-traumatic stress disorder, represented by her desire to isolate herself from strangers.9

And if until a few months ago I wasn't convinced that I had chosen the right psychology faculty, now I'm sure that's what I want to do. I want to practice, to be able to help someone who needs me, to know that I have a part of merit when the patient heals or his mental state improves considerably.1

I found that the moments when I think about Mia relax me, I think I developed a kind of strange passion for her. Or for her situation. I get out of the shower and lie down in bed, and sleep steals me right away, even though I've decided to wait for my awake uncle. In the end, this discussion may be postponed for a day.