INICIAR SESIÓNELLIEThe Martian was Aunt Carol's favourite movie , and she never missed an opportunity to make me watch it. Which meant I'd spent two hours on the couch watching Matt Damon grow potatoes on Mars while she cried at every emotional scene like she hadn't already seen it four times."He's just so lonely," she said, pressing a tissue to her nose as the credits rolled."Aunt Carol, he’s not a real person," I said."He might as well be," she said. “Imagine being left behind on another planet all by yourself. That must be terrifying. I would never wish that on my worst enemy.”I thought about telling her that I wouldn’t mind being alone on Mars, but I held my tongue. There was no need for me to always bring down the mood of every conversation. So I just sat silently and watched the movie. After the movie ended (I may or may not have cried when the crew rescued him), I gathered the bowls from the coffee table and took them to the kitchen, rinsing them out while Aunt Carol channel-surfed in
ELLIESolimar wouldn’t stop barraging me with questions from the moment I arrived on campus, and I kept ignoring her because I didn’t want to give her anything to latch onto. And yet, somehow, she refused to let things go. "I'm just saying," Solimar said, climbing the bleacher steps with her popcorn tucked under her arm and her scarf trailing behind her like a cape, "that a man does not carry your bag across the entire quad for no reason.""He was being neighbourly," I said."You said that last time and I didn't believe it then either," she said, dropping into a seat in the middle section where we had a decent view of the whole field. "Ellie, Beck Ryder was carrying your bag. That doesn’t happen for no reason.""Can we just watch the game please?" I said, sitting beside her."The game hasn't started yet," she said, gesturing at the empty field. "We have time. Tell me what's going on between you two.""There's nothing to tell.""Your face says otherwise.""My face says I want popcorn,
ELLIEI'd been sitting on my bed for forty minutes staring at the same spot on the wall, which was a completely normal and healthy thing to do on a Monday afternoon.The spot was just above my desk, where the paint had this tiny scuff mark from the time I'd thrown a textbook at the wall in freshman year after failing my first anatomy quiz. It had been there ever since, and I'd never bothered to paint over it because it felt like evidence of something. Proof that I'd been frustrated and alive and had bad days before, and had gotten through them anyway.Right now I was using it as a focal point so I didn't have to think about Salma's arm through Beck's, or the way I'd cried on the bus like a complete idiot, or the fact that I'd told him it was fine approximately three times in a row which was two times too many for it to actually be fine.The thing was, I didn't even have the right to be upset. That was what made it so infuriating. I'd written the rules myself. I'd sat in his car and ne
ELLIEMonday mornings were always the worst, especially when they started with a 7am lecture. I'd barely slept, which was entirely Beck Ryder's fault and I resented him for it deeply. I'd stayed awake replaying that cheek kiss approximately forty seven times, each time landing on a different feeling about it, none of them particularly useful.By the time I got to campus I'd had two coffees and a silent argument with myself about whether I was allowed to feel as good as I felt, and I'd decisively lost the argument. I felt good. I felt stupidly and unreasonably good, and I had a small and involuntary smile on my face when I wasn't paying attention. It was annoying as hell.I was cutting across the main quad toward the humanities building when I suddenly heard him, and my heart leapt in my chest. "Buzzkill."I turned around, and Beck was jogging toward me from the direction of the parking lot with his backpack over one shoulder and his hair slightly damp like he'd showered twenty minute
ELLIE Here’s something nobody tells you about cooking salmon: it’s a lot more complicated than it has any right to be. It’s a fish. It lives in water. It shouldn’t require this much concentration. “You’re holding the knife wrong,” Aunt Carol said. “I’m holding it fine,” I said. “You’re holding it like you’re terrified,” she said, reaching over and adjusting my grip. “Hold it like this, and curl your fingers under so you don’t take one off.” “I’ve had all my fingers my entire life,” I said. “I think I know how to keep them.” “You also thought you knew how to bake cookies last week,” she said pleasantly, and I had absolutely nothing to say to that. We were standing side by side at the kitchen counter, with a fillet of salmon between us and Aunt Carol’s ancient recipe book propped open against the backsplash. She’d decided after we got back from Henderson’s that tonight was a cooking lesson night, which apparently was not up for debate. I’d been forced into this the moment she’d un
ELLIEIt took me about thirty minutes after sneaking back into my room before my stomach started growling. I was hungry, and I needed to eat something before my stomach started eating itself. I still hadn’t heard anything from Aunt Carol, so she had to be asleep still. I could rush downstairs in a matter of minutes, grab a bowl of cereal and run back here before she even blinked. But luck was not on my side that morning. I only made it exactly four steps into the kitchen before Aunt Carol looked up from her coffee and said, “Good morning, sweetheart. How was the pig dissection?”I stopped walking at the sound of her voice, and I prayed for Hades to strike me down. She was sitting at the kitchen island in her robe with her reading glasses on and her mug raised halfway to her lips, looking like a picture of innocence. Except her eyes were way too steady, clearly enjoying the horrified look on my face.“It was fine,” I said carefully, moving toward the refrigerator. “We were studying fo
ELLIEI was going to hyperventilate. No seriously, I was going to actually collapse right there in Beck's damn living room because my brain had decided to sprint through every single possible way this night could go wrong. Condom tears? Check. Me screaming like a dying animal because I had no idea
ELLIEIf there was ever a moment I could've been hit by a meteor and welcomed it, it was this one. I actually looked up at the sky and waited to see a huge rock hurtling towards me, hopefully to wipe me off the face of the planet. Because Beck Ryder, the beautiful disaster himself, had just kissed
ELLIEI couldn't breathe as I sat there and looked at Beck with my mouth open. I could have sworn that in that moment, some tiny little creature had crawled into my brain and rewired everything so that I wouldn't be able to think properly. Beck Ryder had just dared me to kiss him. And he wasn't ev
ELLIEBy the time I walked up to Beck's front door, I'd already rehearsed at least seventeen possible scenarios in my head. Half of them involved him answering the door shirtless, and the other half ended with me fainting like some Victorian damsel because, well... who wouldn’t faint if she saw Bec







