Impressively, it was not alcohol-related pain. I gave myself a mental pat on the shoulder; the last time I had actually nursed a hangover was last Tuesday—Halston's weekly student night, when bars and clubs slashed their prices to entice broke twenty-somethings into their premises.

That Tuesday had also been during spring break, so our usual group of five, consisting of myself, Kris, Riley and the Jays, had hit the town with all the force of Asahi Azumane's spike.

Another cramp hit my stomach and I curled into the foetal position, releasing a shaky exhale as my ears picked up my ringtone. Was it the uterine wrestling match or my phone that had woken me?

My roommate grumbled, "Can you answer that?" Her eyes weren't open. Her lashes were crusted.

"On it," I muttered back, equally pissed at being rudely woken up. She flipped around to face away from me and dragged the covers over her head.

Trying my best to keep my body still, I fumbled for my phone and slid my finger across the screen without checking the caller ID. "What?" I all but groaned into the microphone.

A husky, male voice answered me, a voice I had never expected to hear again. "Hey, Viv."

My mouth dropped open. "Darn it."

"I know. I'm sorry," Eric stammered, "but I couldn't wait anymore."

I had the urge to scream. Instead, out of courtesy to my roommate, I picked myself out of bed and stepped into the hallway.

"What the fuck do you want?" If my mind had been all there—not groggy with sleep and splintered by pain—I might have pieced together a reason for receiving this unexpected call, but right now I had no clue why Eric was reaching out.

Eric was my shitty ex, a.k.a. one of the reasons I didn't date.

I'd met him through a mutual course in the second semester of sophomore year. He was philosophical and smooth-talking. He fell for me because I found a flaw in this logical dilemma he attempted to construct. I fell for him because he tried a lot, and he was moderately charming. We started dating in April and we were over the week junior year started, when everyone returned to campus.

Over the course of our five-month mistaken-ship, he'd fought to hang out with me so often that I almost didn't understand where he had the time to cheat on me. She was the one who'd let me know, we'd met up to shoot Fireball and cry together, and I still heart-eyed her Instagram pictures to this day.

"It's our anniversary."

Though laughing made my uterus cramp viciously, I choked one out at the sheer dumbassery that just befell my ears.

"Son of a bitch."

Zeroing in on the upper corner of my screen told me he was right. April seventh. One year since one of the worst decisions I ever made. I put my phone back to my ear.

"You realise we're not dating anymore? You cheated on me. You're not going to celebrate anything with me, so why did you call?"

"Can we have this conversation on campus?" His voice was quiet, subdued. Classic guilt-trip tactic.

"No."

"Can't I just ask how you've been? We were friends before the relationship. We can be friends after, right?"

"We were friends because we shared a class. Now we don't. There's no reason I need or want you in my life," I spat, hating that he'd goaded me into explaining myself again. Tripped me into a fight. I sighed and readjusted my energy. "Just stop. Move on."

Silence. The length of time Eric just breathed into the phone revealed the great restraint for him to concede with my request. My roommate even slipped out in a bathrobe, carrying her shower caddy, and entered the bathroom down the hall before Eric spoke again.

"Fine," he said thickly, at length. "But I still love you." I rolled my eyes and mimed a retch to the empty audience of the blank, ivory wall. "I know you don't believe me. That doesn't change the fact that I do. And if you ever want to have that coffee... I'll always be available. See you around, Viv."

"See you around," I mocked. Without sticking around to hear Eric's response, I ended the call and marched back into my bedroom.

If I was being honest with myself, I had been expecting this call. I'd blocked Eric on all my social media accounts the night I found out, which was actually the night of the house party I had attended with Sushmita.

With Eric blocked and in none of my classes that semester, and with me rejecting all his calls, we'd never hashed out our grievances. I simply didn't care what he had to say. I didn't care if he still loved me. I didn't need his explanation or closure, no matter how badly he tried to give it.That would have been different if I was younger and more naive, but Eric wasn't my first experience with dating—nor being cheated on.

But I'd left this avenue open—left his number accessible—because, dang, it felt good to be grovelled to. Maybe it was petty and vain of me (scratch that: it was most definitely petty and vain) but hearing that cheating on me was the worst thing he'd ever done and that he still couldn't get over me warmed me to the bone.

So it was with mild arrogance that I hauled up the blockout roller blinds, letting bright sunlight blind me. Grabbing my painkillers and water bottle, I swallowed two pills and fell back on my mattress with an exhausted sigh. On the days when my endometriosis flared up badly, I would have loved nothing more than to curl up in bed and stay there.

But over the years, I'd learnt that that just made things worse. Doing yoga while my uterus ached wasn't fun, but it helped. The flow of blood helped to ease the pain, slightly. And whatever pain didn't leave, I incorporated it into my meditation. I could mold it in my mind, walk around it and see it from another angle.

After I showered and slid into my yoga gear, I went three doors up the hallway to Riley and Krista's room and knocked sharply three times. When no-one screeched that they were getting changed, I let myself in.

"You'll never believe who had the caucacity to call me—"

As soon as those words had left my mouth, I read the room. It had barely been a second since I'd entered, but the melancholy in the air was unmistakable.

Both the girls were lying on Riley's bed. Riley was wearing a hoodie of Phoenix's, so large it fell to her mid-thigh. Krista had propped herself up on an elbow, her eyebrows stuck in two sympathetic curves like the graph of 1 over x-squared.

O-kay, I decided, sad girl hours it is.

I tucked my story about Eric away for another time. "What's going on? Did something happen last night?"

As I said, I was impressed with myself for not drinking last night. Though it was just a casual hangout in the common room, with imminent finals in mind, everyone else had at least a beer or two. But I knew consuming alcohol whilst battling my endo would be like pouring water over metallic sodium. Heat. Fire. Hellish consequences.

As far as I could tell, Riley had similarly moderated her drinking and had a safe, chill time before taking herself off to bed. "No— I... well, yes," Riley sighed. "Phoenix and I had a fight."

"Huh?"

Phoenix wasn't even in Halston at the moment. They were long-distance. High school sweethearts. The most time he would get away from Carsonville was one weekend, and that was the only time that Krista would ever deign to sleep in the common. To let the lovebirds reconnect. Wink.

"What about?" I asked, confused. Riley didn't respond, just drew her cheeks between her teeth and started chewing on them.

I walked over to Riley' bed and adopted balasana across from Krista. She knew the best way to take my mind off the pain. "Tickle my back?"

Immediately, I felt Krista's gentle hands wandering up and down my spine, drawing my focus from the wringing ache in my abdomen to the feather-light, tingling touches skimming my skin.

"How bad is it this time?" she asked unsurprisedly, probably seeing my curled body for what it was. Suffering.

"I feel like my uterus is ripping itself apart, but I took my meds last night and extra painkillers this morning," I complained, shoving my face into Riley's duvet. "Any more and I'd trip myself into an addiction."

I brought my head up and noticed that Riley's jaw was no longer working away, but hanging slack. "Riley. Talk."

Her body startled as she snapped back to the bedroom. "It was my fault," Riley eventually admitted, her voice faint as the wind. "You remember how we went to Topaz during spring break?"

Man, spring break Tuesday.

I'd gotten rip-roaring drunk. I'd been sloppy even by Topaz standards, the busiest club in town. It was full of barely-legals and people with fake IDs who would drink anything so long as it was cheap. Krista had had to cut me off—which she was legally allowed to do, considering she worked at Topaz as the club promoter—though that'd done nothing to prevent my memory wipe.

The only things I clearly remembered after nights like spring break Tuesday were fragments of scenes. Either an image, but no sound. Or a sound, but no faces. Or simply a smell, like the heady scent of clementines.

I flicked through my recent memories for signs of a lover's tiff and came up blank. "I don't remember it per se, but yes, I do know that it happened. What did it have to do with Phoenix?"

Riley let out a strangled sigh. "I was supposed to call him. He'd said he had something exciting to tell me, so I was going to step out for ten minutes to chat. But I totally forgot! I called him as soon as I remembered, but last night I did the same thing again."

She drew her pillow up to her chin and hugged it tighter.

"I went to bed without calling him and woke up at two a.m. this morning to see thirty missed calls. He said he'd been calling since eleven, when we planned. Just like he'd been waiting since eleven last Tuesday. I feel so inconsiderate."

Krista chimed in, "I told her that it's nothing to beat herself up about. It's not like Riley makes a habit of this—you call him at least once every day, on time and ready."

"I agree with Kris. You didn't mean to hurt him, and you rarely ever do. You're busy, he's busy. I'm sure if you apologised and explained, he'd understand."

"I did that, and he forgave me. But he asked me to 'just tell him' next time that I plan to go out so he doesn't have to wait up for me. And you guys know how unpredictable it is. I told him that I don't always know where I'm going to end up or by when. And then he got even more concerned, and it's—"

Riley choked back a sob. She tried again with a much calmer, icier voice. "It's just a mess."

Krista and I exchanged that look. That look when friends can very clearly see the end of a relationship before the participant can, but weren't assholes enough to say it aloud. I wondered if Riley and Krista ever swapped that look when I dated Eric or my other exes.

"He's a sweetheart, he really is," I began gently, "But it seems like he's insecure about you being at college while he's stuck in Carsonville."

"Yeah." Riley shook her head as if to dislodge a nightmare. "Yeah, I know. Whenever he comes to visit, it's great. I'm so happy when I'm with him. But the problem is I can't be with him all the time. And that's when it ends up hurting both of us."

Krista and I had nothing to say. Neither of us was the touchy-feely type.

"You know, you should clear your head. Get your blood pumping. I happen to know of a great opportunity to do that," I suggested, struggling to keep my voice from twisting into an agonised whine when another blade of pain cut through me. Ow. "I actually came by to invite you guys to yoga class."

Riley sent a dubious look my way, her eyes sliding over my leggings and singlet. "You know I suck at it."

To me, heaven was a park with endless yoga mats and blooming bushes of roses. To Riley, a special space in hell was reserved for those who committed the worst sins, where they were forced to practise the most complicated asanas till the end of time.

But if I attended her monthly Poetry Club open mics, she had to be my yoga buddy occasionally. Not all the time. I wasn't a sadist. "There's no such thing as a bad yogi. So long as you try. Yoga is for everyone," I stated firmly.

I locked eyes with Riley for many long moments. She was thinking—in the very shallows of her caramel irises, her guilt, her conflict and the growing realisation of the inevitable—and I knew that she had to stop thinking about those things. Why think about things in the past? Or things that you couldn't change? It was pointless to waste your energy on it.

Finally, she caved with a small smile. "Fine. I'll get changed."

"Yay!" I sprang out of balasana to clap my hands gleefully and fell onto my haunches. "Kris? Coming with?"

"I need to study..." Kris began immediately, her eyes skimming back to the stack of textbooks on her table.

What Krista needed was to get active and bask in the newfound sunshine with us. Her lifestyle would be pretty much vampiric if I wasn't around to make her drink, exercise and listen to her girlfriends complain. You know, human delights.

"Ah, no. You have time to study for the rest of the day," I reasoned. "The gym isn't even that far from here." Perks of being in the dorms. I pouted and pleaded in a cutesy voice, "Both Riley and I are hurting right now, won't you please give us your moral support?"

"I can morally support you from my room, what are you talking about?" Damn. She loved picking at my words like that.

My voice went up another octave. "Won't you please morally support us by physically supporting us?"

"Please, Kris?" Riley added hopefully. "We need some girl time."

I knew as soon as Riley chimed in that she was lost. Krista attempted to formulate an excuse for about three seconds, but then her face crumbled. "If I fail my finals, both of you'll have to... to—"

"To buy you a drink?" I smirked. "Gladly." Really. Gladly. She needed to party more, too.

"Ugh," Krista relented. "I'll decide later."

I watched as Riley selected a workout outfit from her closet, while Krista went to rifle through the bottom of her drawers. Activewear was probably the most neglected part of Krista's endless, brand-sponsored wardrobe—which she benevolently lent me at will.

She muttered as she searched, her loose black hair falling off her shoulders, "Crap, where are my tights? I'm sure I left them over here."

I smiled fondly at my friends.

Withdrawing myself gingerly from the bed, I told them, "I'm going to refill my water bottle. Meet you in the common." I opened the door and placed a foot in the hallway, then turned back when a thought struck me. "Oh, one more thing. How did I get home last week?"

Spring break Tuesday. Still so mysterious to me.

Riley said, "I caught an Uber back home right after I realised I missed the phone call with Phoenix. I wasn't feeling it anymore."

Krista cast her eyes to the ceiling while she searched her memories. "Jake was still at Topaz after the rest of the floor left. I saw him at, like, three a.m." Then she surmised, her hand deep into a pile of bottoms, "I'm not too sure, but I think it was Jamie that got you home and put you to bed."

"Oh." I glanced down the hallway, where muffled voices echoed from the common room. Was Jamie in there, watching the lectures he was perpetually behind on? How come he never told me he took me home? Had I ruined his night?

I refocused on my friends and smiled. "Thanks, babes. I gotta remember to shout him a drink sometime. See you real soon."

"See you, Viv," they echoed.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

I've never made a character that is as easy to write as Viv. Not because we're similar (like, at all), but because her personality just leaps off the page to me. Wish I could be her. What do we think about the pairings we have so far?

Riley x Phoenix?

Krista x her textbooks?

And ofc, Viv x Jamie.

Please vote, comment, follow!

Aimee x