B1 | Chapter 1

Aidan

The hunger gnaws at my mind as I focus on every word the professor is saying.

“Just like we covered last class, if the condition set for the if-else block is true, then the program will proceed to execute the code inside of the if block. And if it’s not, then it will execute the code inside of the else block. What we haven’t seen so far is what happens-” the professor drones on, but I barely pay attention to anything she’s actually saying. Instead focusing all of my thoughts on writing down every word so that I can read it at my own pace later.

It would be a lot easier on me if I simply decided to major in something easier instead of going for an engineering degree. But nope. I had to be stubborn.

Coding is the only thing that really interests me out of all the majors I saw. Even if I know it doesn’t really suit my learning style.

Which is to say, I can’t really focus very well on more than one thing.

Not with this never-ending hunger burning away in the pit of my stomach. Just aching all the time.

When the ache grows too strong, I reach into my pocket with my left hand to grab one of the strange stones to calm the ache down as I continue writing with my right hand. But even that only helps so much.

All I can do is focus everything I have on writing down my notes. Right up until the professor finishes class and dismisses us with a polite ‘See you next week’ before packing her things and leaving without another word. Ever in a rush as always.

Now that I’ve lost my focus, I feel the hunger even more.

But there’s no way to make the hunger go away entirely. So I begin to pack my stuff with a grimace on my face, only to feel a hand touch my shoulder, startling me into flinching.

“Your condition getting to you again?” I hear my sister’s voice from behind me, making me stiffly nod my head while continuing to pack my stuff. “I still think you should-”

She stops speaking when I send a look her way. Not an angry one or even upset.

Just a pleading one.

Because I’m getting more and more sick of people telling me to quit Computer Science as time goes on. With each one of them quoting things about my condition making it a poor choice for me and all.

Ali sighs and nods her head without another word. Then, after I finish packing, the two of us begin to walk out of the classroom, where we eventually meet up with her friends who join us in walking towards the nearby café.

It’s practically a routine at this point.

Most of her friends just nod at me or smile, but they don’t say much beyond a brief hello.

I rarely talk after all. So in their eyes, I’m pretty much just Alana’s twin brother who she is always attached to at the hip. Mostly because she feels bad for no reason at all. Because she read somewhere about some myth where one twin takes energy from another twin or something. With one twin being extremely healthy and the other extremely fragile.

And I don’t know if she actually believes that ridiculousness, or if she just became protective over time, but she’s practically like a second mom half the time with all her nagging.

I don’t hate it though, since it means she cares.

Besides. Anything to distract me from the hunger.

The six of us – me, Ali, her best friend, and the other three friends she’s made in her other classes – all walk over to our usual spot in the café. With each of us ordering different drinks.

I, of course, just order my usual. Which is whatever on the menu happens to have the most caffeine and calories.

Caffeine to take my mind off the hunger, and calories in a pointless attempt to satiate the hunger that never satiates.

While I’m waiting for my drink – whatever it is, since I don’t even remember its name – I roll the strange stone in my hand in my jacket pocket. And to further take my mind off of the hunger, I look around, just examining everything I see.

A surprisingly good coping mechanism to take a person’s mind off of something.

Whether it’s a person’s clothes, the general design of a building, random signs across the street, or trying to figure out what the most common hairstyle in a specific place is.

Like how Ali has her hair in a braid going over her shoulder, while her best friend and both the girls of the other three all have their hair straight down.

Or even hair color. Since there aren’t a lot of different hair colors on campus.

A surprisingly small number of people actually dye their hair here for some reason.

Then again, I’m not one to talk. I’ve never dyed my hair before either, and neither has Ali.

We both have our usual black hair. Although mine is a strange, shiny and vibrant black. One that often has people – mostly girls – walking up to ask me what hair products I use.

The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

I glance down at my hair as the others talk at the table to find my hair already nearing my shoulders in length again. Meaning I should get it cut soon.

“How d’ya all feel about the exam comin soon?” Reginald, one of Ali’s friends and the only guy aside from me in their little group, asks. Making me look up again, only for my gaze to narrow in on the approaching waiter person carrying our drinks.

“Not good,” Ali’s best friend, Sarah, says while shaking her head with a rather distraught look on her face. “Not good at all.”

Ali chuckles while leaning back in her seat and occasionally glancing at me as she says, “I feel pretty good about it.”

“Of course you do!” Rebecah exclaims from her place seated on the other side of Sarah from Ali. “You’re smart and you have your brother’s incredible notes even if you forget something!”

I blink at suddenly being drawn into the conversation, only to see both Reginald and Megan nodding their heads in agreement with Rebecah’s words.