Unwanted Days of HOLY HOLIDAY

EVE’S POV. Thank God the examinations are finally over—for good. The thought alone felt like a deep breath after months of suffocating pressure, like finally lifting my head above water after being forced under for far too long. The semester had drained everything out of me: my energy, my motivation, even my patience. If I had to describe it in one word, it wouldn’t be hard or challenging. It would be miserable. The surrounding campus looked like it agreed. The usually lively walkways felt subdued, worn down by weeks of stress and sleepless nights. Groups of students moved slowly across the grounds, some laughing too loudly in relief, others staring blankly at their phones as if their bodies were still stuck in exam mode. Posters announcing deadlines and exam schedules peeled off the notice boards, curling at the edges, their relevance finally expired. The sky above was a dull shade of grey, heavy with clouds that threatened rain but never quite delivered, mirroring the strange emotional limbo we were all in. Sam and I walked side by side toward the library, our footsteps syncing naturally like they always did. My backpack hung low on one shoulder, stuffed carelessly with notebooks I hoped I wouldn’t have to open again anytime soon. A cool breeze brushed against my arms, carrying the faint scent of damp earth and old concrete. “How I wish to never come back here,” I muttered, mostly to myself but loud enough for her to hear. She turned her head slightly, rolling her eyes in that effortless, dramatic way that always made me want to shove her. A side smirk played on her lips, confident and annoyingly calm. “Love what you do,” she said, her voice smooth and steady. “And it will love you back.” She said it like she truly believed it—like life actually worked that way. I glanced at her, taking in how relaxed she looked. Sam always seemed composed, even at the end of exhausting semesters like this one. Her posture was straight, her steps purposeful, as if she had already mentally moved on to the next challenge. She is smarter than me, I have to admit—not because she was born that way, but because she put in the effort. She reads books for fun. Actual books. The kind without pictures. She enjoys sitting in classrooms, asking questions, submitting assignments early, and competing to be at the top of the class. Who does that? I hate all of it. I hate alarms ringing too early in the morning, forcing myself out of bed to attend lectures I barely tolerate. I hate assignments that steal sleep, grades that define worth, and the silent pressure to constantly prove yourself. And competing? Don’t even get me started. I scoffed, shaking my head. “Keep that to yourself.” We reached the library entrance, its tall glass doors reflecting our tired faces back at us. As we stepped inside, warmth wrapped around us instantly. The familiar smell of paper, dust, and quiet concentration filled the air. Soft yellow lights glowed overhead, casting long shadows between towering shelves packed with books. The sound of pages turning, keyboards clicking, and chairs shifting echoed faintly, blending into a steady academic hum. Students were scattered everywhere—some slouched over tables with their heads resting on open books, others typing furiously as if exams weren’t already over. A few whispered to each other, their voices hushed out of respect for the space, while librarians moved silently between aisles like watchful guardians. Just as we passed the first row of shelves, Sam suddenly stopped walking. I turned to her, confused—and that’s when I saw it. She was grinning. Not her normal smile, but a wide, excited grin that lit up her entire face. “What?” I asked immediately, narrowing my eyes. “Mind if I see you later?” she asked, tilting her head slightly. The way she said it made my stomach twist. She sounded like she was asking permission. I scanned the library instinctively, my eyes darting from table to table, aisle to aisle, looking for any clue as to what—or who—had suddenly captured her attention. There was nothing obvious. Just books. Students. Silence. “Where are you going, Miss?” I asked. “Nowhere,” she shrugged casually, then reached up to adjust the collar of her shirt, smoothing it down like she cared about how it sat on her shoulders. “How do I look?” That’s when it hit me. Look? She never asked that. Something serious was definitely going on. I threw my hand up dramatically. “Okay, okay. Just go. Call me when you’re done. I’m getting my copy of Blood and Water.” Her smile widened. She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around me in a quick, tight hug. I caught a familiar whiff of her perfume before she pulled away and disappeared between the shelves, her footsteps fading as she vanished into the maze of books. I stood there for a moment, staring after her, then shook my head and turned toward the fiction section. My mind was already on Blood and Water. I’d been dying to finish it before exams took over my life. As I walked, my eyes skimmed the shelves automatically, searching for the familiar spine. Then suddenly—everything went wrong. My foot caught on something, and before I could react, my body pitched forward. A sharp gasp escaped my mouth as panic surged through me. I could already imagine the embarrassment of crashing onto the library floor, books flying everywhere. But I never hit the ground. Strong hands gripped my arms, firm and steady, pulling me back just in time. My heart slammed violently against my ribs. “Aw!” I cried out. “Watch where you’re going, Miss,” a voice whispered close to my ear—low, amused, and painfully familiar. I straightened instantly and jumped out of his grip, my face burning. I could feel eyes on us. A few students had looked up from their books, curiosity flashing across their faces before they quickly pretended not to stare. “I am so—” I started, ready to apologize, then stopped mid-sentence. Xavier. He stood in front of me, arms crossed loosely, a slow smirk spreading across his face. The soft library lights highlighted his features perfectly, making him look annoyingly handsome, like he belonged in a movie rather than a quiet academic space. “You are so?” he prompted, clearly enjoying himself. “You did that on purpose,” I accused, folding my arms defensively. “But you weren’t watching where you were going,” he replied calmly. Only then did my surroundings fully register again—the silence, the stares, the reality that we were arguing in the middle of the library. Great. Embarrassment washed over me. I turned to walk away, desperate to escape the moment, but his hand shot out and caught mine. “Going for this?” he asked, holding up Blood and Water. My heart skipped. Of course he knew. I had complained endlessly about not getting to finish it when finals started. Before I could say anything, he tugged me along, guiding me through the corridors toward the exit. “Where are we heading?” I asked as we passed through the doors, cool air brushing against my skin. “You’ll see,” he replied, annoyingly calm. “Can you at least let go of my hand?” I muttered. People passed us, some glancing our way, others pretending not to notice. Everyone already knew there was something between us—but this felt different. Too public. Too real. “Why should I?” he said simply. We reached his car, parked under a large tree whose leaves rustled softly in the evening breeze. He opened the passenger door for me, and I slid inside, the seat still warm from the sun. “Am I being abducted?” I asked as he got into the driver’s seat. “Take it easy, cupcake,” he smirked. I laughed despite myself. “What is with the cupcake?” “Your new nickname.” He started the engine, and the car pulled away smoothly. City lights flickered on one by one as dusk settled, painting the streets in soft gold and shadow. “Someone is in a good mood today,” I observed. He raised an eyebrow, glancing between me and the road. “What is with you today?” I asked, my nerves tingling in a way I couldn’t explain. “I want today to be the most beautiful day of your life,” he said softly. My cheeks burned. He knew exactly what he was doing. We turned sharply onto Haile-Selassie Road, streetlights stretching ahead of us like glowing paths. I trusted him—completely—but my instincts stayed alert, as if my heart was bracing for something big. “Can I at least know where we’re going?” I asked. “Why am I abducted?” “It’s a surprise,” he said, reaching for my hand. “You’ll love it.” We stopped in front of a quiet house tucked away from the noise of the city. Warm lights glowed from the windows, and the air felt calmer here, softer. “I’ve never been here before,” I said. He smiled but said nothing, opening my door instead. As I stepped out, the place immediately put me at ease—the cool air, the faint scent of flowers, the stillness. “I wish this was my parents’ place,” I admitted. “It feels relaxing.” “I thought you were worried,” he teased. “I am,” I said honestly. “But it still feels comfortable.” He rang the doorbell. A moment later, the door swung open, revealing a white-bearded man with a wide, welcoming smile. “Honey! They’re here!” “Hello, Dad,” Xavier said, hugging him. Dad? “Good evening, sir,” I said, forcing a smile. He pulled me into a warm hug. “You must be Eve.” “Yes, sir.” Inside, a white-haired woman stood near the couch, her face lighting up when she saw us. “Hi, Mom,” Xavier said. Mom. My heart skipped. I stood there, suddenly very aware of everything—the warmth of the room, the weight of the moment, the realization settling in. These were his parents. His real parents. And somehow… I was standing right in the middle of it.