Excessive

Excessive

It had been a week. It had been seven long days since it happened, a week since she'd sat in his car trembling like she was having a fever, seven days since her body changed completely. Each day, she would convince herself that she was fine and she would resume classes and go back to business as usual, but then, she'd close her eyes and the incident would replay itself in her mind and mess with her all over again.

She'd fall asleep only to dream of it, or to dream of him doing ungodly things to her.

She hadn’t gone back to class since then. She thought it would last only for a day, but then it turned to two, and three, until it became seven.

She’d told Jasmine she was unwell as an excuse to stay away from classes and everything else, and it wasn’t entirely a lie; she wasn't herself and she wasn't feeling good at all. Everything outside felt too loud and hectic, it felt too overwhelming, and all she could do was continue to hide in her room.

Jasmine hadn’t pressed too much, thankfully. She’d brought food sometimes, set it on Yaren’s desk, and left quietly. Sometimes she lingered, chatting about random things like how Petrov has been asking about her, how Cassie and Aisling had a tiff, how Professor Helena Strauss was planning on giving an assessment. And everytime, Yaren just couldn't bring herself to say much.

The messages from home didn’t help.

Elif had called the night before, and though she still sounded worried, she was more hopeful because she was convinced Yaren would send home some money for their mother's treatment.

“Mama’s still in the hospital,” she’d said, “but she’ll be fine."

Yaren had forced herself not to cry, she'd forced herself to sound as hopeful as Elif sounded. "Yeah, she'll be fine." Had been her response.

Elif had been quick to affirm.

“Yes yes. You have a job now and she'll get the surgery soon. Right?"

Yaren hadn't been able to speak for a moment. She wasn't sure how she was going to tell her that she wasn't so sure about the internship anymore. She was sure the professor wouldn't want her back in his office, and she wasn't sure how she felt about going back, not when she couldn't think of anything else but how he'd made her feel.

But still, she’d swallowed hard and forced herself to say, “Yeah, sure. Everything’s going to be fine.”

She'd been unable to sleep that night, she'd spent most of the night crying, and then she'd gone back to thinking about getting a job at a cafe again. And once again, she found herself seated on her bed despondently, the weight of everything was weighing so heavily on her she could hardly breathe.

She'd blown everything all because of her infatuation with the professor, she'd ruin everything because she just couldn't stay away from him. Even thinking his name made her chest tighten.

Yaren pressed her hands against her face, trying to push the thoughts away. It was Monday; a new week. She knew she had to stop hiding, she had to get out of bed and not only attend classes but find a source of income. Plus, she couldn’t afford to let her attendance drop any lower, her scholarship depended on it.

She told herself she wouldn’t attend the professor's class which was supposed to be the first class for the day, at least not today. She couldn’t face him just yet, else she'd lose her mind and composure all over again.

She pulled herself together and dressed for the day; a plain white blouse and dark jeans, with her hair loosely tied back. She'd made sure not to wear skirts or anything that would draw attention to her today, she just couldn't deal with that.

She began gathering her books when her phone pinged, she picked it up absentmindedly, expecting a message from Jasmine or Petrov who'd been checking up on her constantly, but it was something else entirely; credit alert.

Her breath caught and her eyes widened as she read the message quickly; the amount was huge, it was way more money than she had ever seen in her life. She couldn't believe it, her hands began trembling as she read it again, making sure she wasn’t imagining it, make sure she hadn't misread it or something.

Her breath hitched once more on seeing the sender’s name, it made her heart sink heavily: Gabriel Whitefield.

For a long moment, she just stood there, completely frozen. There was no way this was happening, there was no way he would he would send her this much money, but the details of the transfer were clear: Compensation for accident/payment for services rendered.

Her stomach twisted.

Compensation? Services?

She sank onto the bed, it felt like her breath had been knocked out of her lungs completely.

The sum wasn’t just generous, it was excessive. The kind of amount that could cover her mother’s bills, Elif's school fees, and even help with other major bills. Her heart began beating faster and her hands continued to tremble

She couldny understand why he'd sent her so much money, she wasn't sure if it was out of his usual kindness or just guilt, or perhaps he was trying to pay her off so she wouldn't say anything about it all. She didn't know what to think.

All she knew was that she didn’t want it, she didn’t want to owe him anything, plus, taking the money made her feel like he was back to seeing her as a charity case, it made her feel like he was just trying to get rid of her. But she needed the money, the thought of her mother lying in the hospital alone made her heart clench, and then Elif being unable to go to school because her fees hadn't been settled, and her father working multiple shifts, it was all too much.

Her throat tightened painfully.

Maybe he hadn’t meant it the way she was thinking, maybe it really was just what he said it was: a professional gesture, a formality. Maybe she was the one reading too much into everything, like always.

Her phone buzzed again, this time, it was an email from the professor and her heart faltered. She opened it with trembling fingers.

'From: Gabriel Whitefield
Subject: Internship Status

> Dear Yaren Kaya,

I hope this message finds you well.

Please be informed that your services are no longer required effective immediately. You have demonstrated diligence in the time you worked under my supervision, and I wish you the very best in your studies and future endeavors.
You have been paid for the task you carried out and also compensated for the injury you sustained in the workplace.

Regards,
Gabriel Whitefield'

The words were simple and professional. There was nothing between the sentences, nothing that gave anything away at all. It was almost like nothing had happened like she had been imagining the whole thing all along.

Her vision blurred and she blinked multiple times to clear the tears that had accumulated in her eyes to no avail. She set the phone aside just as her shoulders began trembling as the tears finally came.

She didn’t know what she was crying for; she wasn't sure if it was from the loss of the internship, the guilt, the confusion, or the finality of his email. Maybe it was all of it. Maybe it was the exhaustion of pretending she was fine when she wasn’t.