Rowena & EricRowenaThe dining room smelled like garlic and roast chicken, the only sounds that of cutlery on dishes and soft classical music in the background. My parents sat on either end of the table, wearing their more dressed-down—but still dressy enough for a family dinner—clothes. Eric and I sat between them, our gazes fixed on our plates.This was our monthly occasion&mdas
Rowena“Today, you’re going to be getting up from your desks and performing a physical assessment.”There was an audible murmuring amongst the class. From where I sat near the window, I could see my classmates shifting uncomfortably in their seats; it was a Friday morning, and the last thing that anyone wanted to do was physical exams, which usually involved having to pair up and exercise.
RowenaWhen I finally found refuge beneath the stairs, there were tears in my eyes for reasons I couldn’t quite understand. I huffed to myself as I sat down, dropping my leather satchel onto the tile floor.“Dammit,” I muttered as I wiped my eyes with my sleeve.I couldn’t believe I was skippin
RowenaI couldn’t believe my ears when Emma actually said yes to my request to get hot cocoa together. After purchasing our things, we found ourselves sitting at a small corner table in a nearby cafe, our shopping bags piled around us and two steaming mugs of hot chocolate on the table.“So,” I said, trying to sound nonchalant, “how have you… how have you been?”
RowenaThe sound of fists pummeling leather filled the air as Eric stood with his back turned to me, sweat running down his skin. He almost seemed to be hitting his punching bag with a primal, feral intensity—almost as though he was trying to get out his anger, or perhaps his frustration.I wasn’t sure why I just stood there, staring at him. Maybe it was simply fascination with his form.
Eric & RowenaEricMaybe my anger toward Rowena was misplaced—I realized that as she ran out of my room, clearly hiding the tears in her eyes. I knew I would have to apologize, of course, once things calmed down a bit.But part of me had a reason for pushing her away. Part of me, separate from the a
RowenaThe line stretched on endlessly ahead of me, a snaking queue of uneasy students and staff alike. My grip tightened reflexively around the strap of my satchel as I watched another cluster of students get ushered away by the grim-faced guards stationed at the checkpoint, their hazmat suits gleaming dully beneath the morning sun.An icy trickle of dread wormed its way down my spine. The girl in front of me had briefly mentioned something called ‘Wolf’s Fury’, but I
RowenaThe week passed in a blur of security checkpoints, disinfecting stations, and growing anxiety.By Wednesday, a knot of dread had taken up residence in my stomach. Talk about the ‘Wolf’s Fury’ virus was spreading faster than wildfire, and students were being pulled out of camp left and right—not just for quarantine if they showed even the mildest hint of symptoms, but also by concerned parents and guardians.