The Routine and Everyday Adventures

"Did you know the professors consider me their star student?" Olivia announced one afternoon as we walked toward the library, swinging her iPad in one hand as if it were a trophy. "Well, they didn't exactly say it in those words, but I can feel it in their gazes. It's like they see the future of humanity in me."

I rolled my eyes, trying not to laugh.

"Olivia, I think they just tolerate you because… well, you're you."

"Exactly!" she responded, pointing at me triumphantly. "I'm irresistible. Plus, my stories about Switzerland are so epic that even the professors get excited when I tell them how Lindsay and you helped me climb the Alps."

Lindsay, who was walking beside me, chimed in with an ironic smile.

"I don't remember climbing any Alps, Olivia. The highest we went was a hill near the lake, and it wasn't even that steep."

"Details, details," Olivia said, waving her hand dismissively. "The point is, I'm now famous on campus thanks to you two. You're like my official adventure assistants."

Lindsay and I exchanged a knowing glance. A few days had passed since our return to Stanford, and although our lives had returned to normal academic routines, Olivia remained the vibrant soul of everything we did.

Classes had started with full force, and while some were more demanding than others, each had its own rhythm and challenges. In Biology 42, we were deep into studying genetic regulation and epigenetics, a fascinating but complex topic. The professor often asked random difficult questions, and Olivia always raised her hand, even if her answers were… creative.

"So, is epigenetics like having an on/off switch for our genes?" Olivia asked during one class, with her characteristic enthusiasm while quickly typing notes on her iPad. "It's like Christmas lights! Some are on, some are off, and it depends on which button you press to activate them."

The professor nodded patiently, though some students chuckled under their breath.

"In simple terms, yes, Olivia. But remember, epigenetics can also be influenced by environmental factors, like diet or stress."

"Of course, of course," she replied, scribbling something on her iPad. "Gene switches sensitive to coffee and college drama. Got it."

After class, Lindsay commented between laughs:

"I think Olivia should write a book about everyday biology. We could call it Gene Switches and Coffee: How to Survive Stanford ."

"Or maybe Epigenetics and Stress: Why Exams Turn On My Genes ," I added, pretending to be serious. "It would be a box office hit."

Lindsay burst out laughing, and Olivia, who had caught up with us, frowned.

"Don't make fun of my ideas. Someday, when I'm president of the student association, I'll make everyone read that book."

One afternoon after classes, Olivia dramatically announced that she needed "a break from our company" to work on her next organic chemistry project.

"Guys, I think it's time for me to focus on my brilliant academic career," she said, holding her iPad as if it were a sacred artifact. "So, for tonight, I officially give you permission to have dinner alone. I don't want to interfere with your… space."

Lindsay and I exchanged a surprised look.

"Are you sure?" Lindsay asked, raising an eyebrow. "I thought you'd never leave us alone."

"Oh, I'm sure," Olivia replied with a mischievous smile. "Just remember, I expect a detailed report of what you talk about. And no kissing in public, please. That would be too much for my romantic heart."

We laughed but decided to take advantage of the opportunity. We went to a small Italian restaurant near campus, where the atmosphere was cozy and quiet.

As we ate, Lindsay brought up the topic of my birthday, which was a few weeks away.

"I've been thinking about what to do for your birthday," she said, playing with her napkin. "Maybe we could organize something special. Perhaps a small party with some friends or a short trip."

I shook my head, smiling, but my expression softened.

"You know, I haven't celebrated my birthday since… well, you know. It stopped making sense after that."

Lindsay looked at me tenderly, understanding without needing me to say more. After a moment of silence, she asked gently:

"Are you ready to open the letter?"

I felt a lump in my throat. I knew exactly what she meant. My mother had written that letter years ago, intending to give it to me on one of my birthdays. But she never got the chance. My father had given it to me recently. However, since then, I hadn't been able to muster the courage to open it. I decided I would do it on my next birthday, the day it was originally meant for me.

"I think so," I finally replied, lowering my gaze to my plate. "I think I'm ready."

Lindsay reached across the table and placed her hand over mine.

"Sack, I know it won't be easy. But I also know it's important to you. I'm here with you, no matter what happens."

I slowly nodded, feeling a mix of nervousness and gratitude.

"Thank you, Lindsay. It means a lot that you understand. I don't know what I'll find in that letter, but… I think it's time to face it."

Lindsay gave me a warm smile.

"Whatever it is, you won't be alone."

Later, we decided to visit Olivia's dorm. She greeted us with her usual radiant smile, sitting at her desk with her iPad in hand, probably working on some extravagant project or just browsing social media.

"Welcome back, lovebirds!" she exclaimed, looking up from her screen with a mischievous glint in her eyes. "I hope you had a romantic dinner worthy of a movie."

Lindsay rolled her eyes, though she couldn't help but laugh.

"It was just dinner, Olivia. No movies or drama."

"Sure, sure," Olivia said, winking. "Whatever you say. But remember, I'm the love expert here, so if you need advice, you know where to find me."

I chuckled softly, but my mind kept spinning over what Lindsay and I had discussed during dinner.

While Lindsay sat on the couch and began reviewing her organic chemistry notes, I remained standing by the window, gazing outside. The campus lights glimmered in the distance, and the night sky was speckled with stars. Olivia, noticing my silence, set her iPad aside and approached me.

"Are you okay, Sack?" she asked, surprisingly serious for once. "You seem thoughtful."

I nodded slowly, not taking my eyes off the horizon.

"Yes, I'm fine. I was just… thinking about some things."

Olivia crossed her arms and furrowed her brow, as if analyzing something deeply important.

"You know you can talk to me, right? It doesn't always have to be jokes and laughter."

That made me smile. Despite her exuberant and dramatic personality, Olivia had a deeper side that she rarely showed. And although it sometimes seemed like she lived for the spectacle, I knew deep down that she genuinely cared about us.

But, as was typical of her, her seriousness didn't last long. Suddenly, her expression shifted to one of overflowing excitement.

"I know what's bothering you!" she exclaimed, pointing at me with her finger. "It's because you two still haven't made your relationship official!"

Lindsay looked up from her notes, surprised.

"What are you talking about, Olivia?"

"Oh, come on!" Olivia said, rolling her eyes as if it were obvious. "We all know you two have something going on. It's clear. But I want it to be official. I want to be the first to know so I can start planning my role as godmother."

"Godmother?" I repeated, confused. "Olivia, no one is planning anything. We're not even talking about that."

"Exactly!" she responded, crossing her arms. "That's why I want you to make it official soon. You can't keep this romantic tension going forever. It's exhausting for those of us around you."

Lindsay burst out laughing, covering her face with her hands.

"Olivia, you're hopeless."

"I'm serious," Olivia insisted, with a dramatically solemn expression. "If you become a couple, I promise not to organize any extravagant parties… well, maybe a small one. But I want to be the godmother of whatever comes next. You know, weddings, anniversaries, babies… everything!"

"Babies?" I exclaimed. "Olivia, I think you're getting way ahead of yourself."

"It's not getting ahead!" she protested, raising her hands as if defending a noble cause. "It's planning ahead. Besides, someone has to make sure everything is perfect when the time comes. And that person is me."

Lindsay stood up from her bed and walked over to Olivia, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"Olivia, I think you need to stop watching so many romantic movies. We're just enjoying the moment. You don't need to plan anything yet."

"But the moment is now!" Olivia replied, pretending to be desperate. "The sooner you make it official, the sooner I can start designing invitations and picking out dresses. Just imagine: me walking down the aisle with a huge hat and even taller heels. It would be epic."

We all laughed, and though her words were exaggerated as always, there was something endearing about her enthusiasm.

Finally, Lindsay shook her head with a smile.

"Alright, Olivia. I promise that if we ever decide to make anything official, you'll be the first to know."

"And the godmother," Olivia quickly added, pointing at Lindsay with an accusing finger. "Don't forget that."

"Sure, sure," Lindsay replied, laughing. "The godmother too."

We fell silent for a moment, each of us lost in our own thoughts. Finally, Lindsay closed her iPad and stretched.

"Well, I think it's time to rest," she said. "We have an early class tomorrow, and someone needs to be awake to help Olivia understand what epigenetic switches are."

"Hey!" Olivia protested, pretending to be offended. "I understand epigenetic switches perfectly. They're like Christmas lights, remember?"

We all laughed, and as we headed back to our respective residences, I felt that everything was exactly as it should be. Despite Olivia's antics, the personal reflections, and the challenges we still had ahead, I knew this group—Lindsay, Olivia, and I—was something special.