COLEENThere were days when I felt like I was finally adjusting to college. When the air didn’t feel so heavy with anxiety and I could walk into a lecture hall without scanning for a particular pair of hazel eyes.This was not one of those days.“Tell me again why you’re refusing to come,” Mark said for the third time as he dramatically sprawled across the beanbag in our living room, chewing on a Twizzler.“Because,” I said, not looking up from my laptop, “I’m two chapters behind in my reading, my back still hurts from working on the field, and I’m not in the mood to fake smile at strangers tonight.”“You wound me,” he said, clutching his chest. “This isn’t just any event. It’s the first open mic night of the semester. You know, music, food, awkward poetry from people who overshare… It’s a rite of passage.”I snorted. “You just want to get on stage and sing so the cute girls swoon.”He wiggled his eyebrows. “Guilty. But seriously, you need to stop hiding in here like a recluse. It’s n
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