Chapter 5 -Emails and Emotions

Yavannah Constantine

For the hundredth time today, my concentration faltered. My thoughts flitted restlessly as I contemplated Adonis's unexpected visit. After he left, I lay in bed for hours, bewildered at how I had completely forgotten about him. I had rescued him from a group of bandits on my way home from karate class during my final year.

My mind began to drift, but I yanked it back to the glowing screen before me. I was in the process of applying for a four-year contract with Yuliard School of Arts and Music. My aspiration was to become a vocal coach. Since childhood, I had yearned to attend Yuliard.

Perhaps my obsession stemmed from the school's renowned prestige; it was a place for the truly gifted, not merely anyone with talent. Even when I failed to gain acceptance, I immersed myself in the community, yearning to work with the institution I idolized.

Well, that was if they accepted my application.

As I stretched, my back protested, and a tired yawn escaped my lips. I decided to take a coffee break before continuing my application. Pushing my chair back, I carefully maneuvered out from behind the desk, making sure not to bump my wrapped knees against the edge of the table.

Self-awareness was evidently not my strong suit.

I trotted toward the bathroom to attend to my daily necessities before slipping into comfortable shorts and a tank top. As I towel-dried my hair, my gaze was caught by the mirror. My skin glowed a tender pink from the heat of the shower. I lightly traced my finger down my arm, a jolt of electricity coursing through me as I imagined his hands....

"Yavannah," I admonished myself, retracting my hand and stuffing it into my pocket. I turned away from the mirror, eager to abandon those distracting thoughts.

The rhythmic trickle of coffee pouring from the machine filled the silence of the dining area. Where was Yaskier? Normally, he would be concocting some bizarre new recipe.

I was relieved he wasn't experimenting today; the sautéed asparagus from last year had landed me in the hospital for days. It turned out I was allergic to it, a fact I was quite glad to discover, as I had never liked asparagus anyway.

I grabbed the steaming mug, turning off the machine before making my way to my room. The cold air sent a shiver across my exposed legs. I gingerly opened my door, barely placing the cup on my desk before a bumbling figure barreled into my room.

"Morning, baby sis!" Yaskier yelled, flopping onto my meticulously arranged bed as if it were a trampoline.

"Speak of the devil," I muttered, annoyance coursing through me as I regarded his sheepish face. He looked freshly showered, droplets of water trickling from his hair onto my dry sheets.

"Get your wet and bumbling self off my bed before I strangle you," I threatened, mimicking a strangling motion with my hands.

He chuckled, rolling off the bed and landing on the floor with a thud. I had never met anyone as unpredictable as my twin.

"The floor has germs, you clown," I said, wrinkling my nose in distaste as I settled back into my chair.My application came into view, and I hovered nervously over the bright blue button labeled "Submit." Taking a deep breath, I clicked it. The page loaded, assuring me that I would receive a response via email. I sighed softly, leaning back in my chair, a silent prayer repeating in my mind.

Please God, let them consider me.

"Don't be anxious, Anna," Yaskier said, his brown eyes filled with concern. "Yuliard would be at a loss if they didn't choose my talented baby sister," he added, adopting a sassy expression that elicited a breathy chuckle from me.

"Now, to the question at hand," he began, extending an arm toward the corner of the desk as he lifted himself up. I eyed him curiously while sipping my coffee, savoring the sweet yet bitter taste that danced on my palate.

"Do you like Adonis?" he asked suddenly.

The coffee that had smoothly traveled down my throat threatened to reverse itself as I whipped my head toward him in shock. A cough bubbled in my throat as I set the mug down on the desk. I opened my mouth to respond, but the words eluded me, so I resorted to a hesitant nod.

"No?" he prodded, clearly seeking a more definitive answer.

"NO!" I blurted, grabbing the mug again for a large swig, hoping to mask my burning cheeks. The scalding liquid burned my tongue as I swallowed thickly.

He nodded knowingly, patting my head with a teasing force that nearly toppled me from my chair. I swatted his hand away and shut my laptop, frustrated by the turn of the conversation.

"I won't be able to make breakfast; I'm off to work," he declared, and I squinted at him in suspicion. He usually worked from home, so why was he needed in the office today?I opened my mouth to voice my questions, but he anticipated me.

"I'm no longer just a tech guy; I've been promoted, so I have a lot of trainees on my team," he said, waving his arms with pride.

A proud smile spread across my face as I rose to pat his chest in congratulations."You're talking to the new Chief of Online Security," he bellowed, puffing out his chest like a peacock.

"Your majesty," I curtsied playfully, which elicited a proud look from him as he marched toward the door.

"Bye, baby sis!" he shouted over his shoulder as he exited.

"Get out!" I yelled back, his laughter echoing down the hallway.

The sound of a notification echoed in the now silent room, drawing my attention. I glanced at my phone, wondering who had messaged. It was probably the college group chat.

I was tempted to mute them sooner rather than later.

The soft mattress creaked as I sat up to retrieve my phone from its charger. My home screen wallpaper flashed momentarily before I swiped down to check my notifications.

Yuliard.

My heart raced as I sat up straight, trying to process the information. I had expected the review process to take at least a day or two, but it hadn't even been thirty minutes.My hands trembled as I clicked the notification, watching as the screen transitioned to my email app.

Suddenly, the phone felt heavier than my heart as I read through the message.