Later that evening, I found myself walking beside Carol into the newly opened Stanford Theatre. The place was glowing — warm lights, velvet curtains, a long queue of students waiting for tickets.
Carol insisted we come watch something light, saying it was a small reward for surviving the year’s exams.
“I’m thankful we’re done with all that reading madness,” she said, bumping her shoulder into mine playfully. “Now, you don’t have to worry about school while taking care of your mum.”
“You are saying it like we are done with school entirely. Our second year is just around the corner.” I said as we walked side by side.
“Yeah. Glad to know you won’t be entering your second year with those nerd glasses anymore.” She joked. I eyed her.
“What? I only noticed you don’t wear those big hideous g
