“I’ll sleep when I’m dead,” I quip, turning back to my laptop. “Or when this application is perfect. Whichever comes first.”
“Alex…” Tara’s voice is softer now, tinged with concern. She moves closer, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder. “This isn’t healthy. You need to take a break.”
I shrug off her hand, irritation flaring. “What I need is to finish this application. The GSRI program is my shot at making a real difference, Tara. I can’t afford to mess it up.”
As soon as the words leave my mouth, I regret my harsh tone. Tara doesn’t deserve my frustration. She’s only trying to be a good friend.
“Alex?” Tara’s voice cuts through my spiraling thoughts. “You okay? You kind of zoned out there.”
I blink rapidly, trying to push the unwelcome thoughts away. “Yeah, sorry. Just tired, I guess.”
Tara’s expression softens, her concern clear. “It’s okay to miss him, you know.”
“I don’t,” I snap, the lie bitter on my tongue. “He made his choice. EcoTech and its dirty money. So much for caring about the environment.”
The words come out sharper than I mean, but I can’t help it. All the hurt and anger I’ve been burying for weeks surge to the surface. I remember our last fight with painful clarity:
“It’s not that simple, Alex!” Freddie had shouted, frustration etched on his face. “The world isn’t black and white.”
“Oh, please,” I scoffed. “That’s what people say when they’re selling out. Enjoy your corporate paycheck, Freddie. I’m sure it’ll keep you warm at night while the planet burns.”
The memory makes me wince. We’d both said things we couldn’t take back. Now, weeks later, the gulf between us feels insurmountable.
Tara sighs, pulling me from my thoughts. “Look, I know you’re hurting. But working yourself to death won’t fix anything.Why don’t you try to get some sleep? The application will still be here in the morning.”
I want to argue, to insist that I’m fine—that I don’t need sleep, or breaks, or anything but my determination to succeed. But the concern in Tara’s eyes makes me pause. Maybe she’s right. Maybe I do need a break.
“Okay,” I concede, closing my laptop with a soft click. “You win. I’ll try to sleep.”
As she pads off to the kitchen, I lean back in my chair and close my eyes. The sudden absence of the screen’s glow hits me harder than I expected. My body feels heavy, like I’m made of lead rather than flesh and bone.
The soft clink of a mug being set down rouses me from my half-doze. Tara’s standing there, a steaming cup in hand and a gentle smile on her face.
“Here,” she says, passing me the tea. “Drink this, then straight to bed, okay?”
I nod, taking a small sip. The warmth spreads through me, soothing in a way I hadn’t realized I needed. “Thanks, Tara. I’m sorry for being such a pain lately.”
She shrugs, perching on the edge of my bed. “That’s what friends are for. To annoy you into taking care of yourself.”
We sit in comfortable silence for a while, the only sounds the occasional sip of tea and the distant hum of traffic outside. It’s nice, this moment of peace. But as always, my mind drifts back to the lab, to the project, to Freddie.
“I keep thinking about the mine,” I admit quietly. “All that work we did, all those plans we made. It feels wrong to just walk away from it.”
Tara nods, understanding in her eyes. “Have you thought about reaching out to Freddie? Maybe you two could?—”
“No,” I cut her off more sharply than I intended. “That’s not an option. He made his choice.”
“Alex,” Tara starts, her voice gentle but firm. “I know you’re hurt, but?—”
“But nothing,” I interrupt again, the words spilling out before I can stop them. “He’s going to work for EcoTech, Tara. EcoTech! Do you know how much environmental damage they’re responsible for? How many communities they’ve destroyed? And Freddie’s just okay with that?”
The words come in a rush, all the pent-up frustration and disappointment I’ve been holding back for weeks. Tara listens quietly, giving me space to vent.
“I just don’t understand,” I continue, my voice softer now. “How could he throw away everything we believe in? Everything we worked for?”
Tara falls quiet for a moment, considering her words carefully. “Have you considered that maybe he’s not throwing it away? That maybe he sees this as a different way to make a change?”
I scoff, though there’s less heat behind it than before. “By working for the enemy?”
