Beware the Ides of Feb

What is this feeling? Dianne picked at her cuticle, exploring the sharp point of a hangnail that wouldn’t go away, despite her many efforts to clip the skin, moisturize, and even bite. It just kept coming back, capturing more territory as it advanced beyond the thumbnail. She could almost hear the cheers and a tiny bugle as the rolling plains of palm came into view, signs of the hangnail victory.

And then what would the hangnail do? Lay bloody siege to the peaceful hamlets of finger- and palm prints. Colonies of bacteria would set up tents and dig latrines too close to one another, and the hand would have to be amputated at the wrist to deal with the contagion.

As entertaining as her thoughts were becoming, it wasn’t solving the problem of her feelings. And they had nothing to do with the blasted hangnail, and everything to do with her hesitation to do the research.

Why am I so anxious? Dianne shoved her hand in the front pocket of her hoodie and stared across the cafeteria, over the flotilla of lunch trays with cartons of milk, scabrous rectangles of burnt pizza, and the sketchy fruit cup of the day. Jack was sitting with that odd mix of theater kids and geeks who hung out in the physics lab to play chess. As far as she knew, he was neither a chess player nor a theater guy; his main deal seemed to be languages and soccer. And everybody liked him, not just her. She’d done that much research.

They were both absolutely helpless in Chemistry class. They knew it, and it was fine because that made them perfect lab partners. Stumbling their way through, breaking a few beakers, nearly setting themselves on fire, and laughing at their fumbles, they had managed to pull C pluses on the last test. Who knows what they might accomplish if they actually studied together for the tests? But she didn’t want to give him the wrong impression because… too pushy. I know he’s way out of my league. But this is just about studying. We BOTH have to pass this class to graduate.

In her pocket, her pointer finger was weaseling its way around the ragged edges of the hangnail. She felt skin break and blood flow. She clenched her fingers around the thumb to stop herself, and that was when Jack got up from his table, tray in one hand as he made his way toward the conveyer belt. He smiled and waved at her with his other hand, changing course. Be cool, be cool, be cool! Her cheeks flushed, but she lifted her head and smiled back.

“Hey, you wanna study together for the next Chem quiz, ma cherie? This weekend?”

Numbly, she nodded, pulled her bloody hand out of the front pocket, thumbs up to say yes. What is this feeling?

Just Jot January Day30 Prompt: HESITATION, by WENDY. Be sure to visit their blog to read or just say hi! See what other folks have done with the prompt, or add your own! https://lindaghill.com/2025/01/30/daily-prompt-jusjojan-the-30th-2025/