Page 7 of Talk to Me

Dick!

Quickly, I closed Peepers and locked my phone, setting it on my desk.

That was enough toxicity for one evening.

Seven o’clock in the morning comes early when you’re a university student. Friday morning, I rolled out of bed with less than an hour to spare to get to my American Literature class. Racing through my room, I snatched up my bathroom kit and raced down the hall to shower as thoroughly as possible in under ten minutes. By the time I’d showered, brushed my teeth and hair, and made it back to my room, it wasn’t the best cleanup job I’d ever done.

An excessive use of deodorant and a spritz of cologne would have to do to make me suitable for sitting in close quarters with others for an hour. I yanked on some boxer briefs, a pair of basketball shorts, and a t-shirt, before sliding into a pair of sneakers. As American Literature was my only Friday class, I stuffed the corresponding binder and textbook into my backpack and slung it over my shoulder. Minutes later, with my wallet in my pocket and my lanyard around my neck, I was dashing out of my dorm.

The English and Language Arts building is on the other side of campus from the dorms. However, I was making better time than I expected, even with fighting the early morning student crowds, so I decided to stop by the dining hall. I wasn’t paying for a meal plan at Midway to skip breakfast, so I figured a quick detour would be beneficial. Most professors at Midway treat the students like the adults we are, so bringing a snack to class isn’t treated like an egregious sin.

Breakfast sandwiches, wrapped in tin foil, were stacked by the dozens on trays under heat lamps when I entered the dining hall. I found one labeled “Bac. E. Ch.” and deduced that the ingredients were bacon, egg, and cheese. If I was wrong, I’d deal with it. I grabbed a second sandwich when my stomach rumbled, then selected a bottled cold brew coffee, and made my way to check out. As I left the dining hall, I cursed myself for forgetting to refill my water bottle so that I’d have it in my bag.

Everyone will just have to deal with your coffee breath for an hour, I thought to myself.

Hopefully, the minty freshness of my recently brushed teeth would help during class, even with coffee and breakfast sandwich stench thrown atop it.

By the time I’d reached the English and Language Arts building, I had ten minutes to spare before class. Mentally patting myself on the back, I quickly found the correct room and slipped inside. Only a handful of students had arrived in the class designed for probably around forty. Not recognizing anyone that I would want to sit with, I found a table at the back of the room. Gnawing on breakfast sandwiches and slurping down cold brew would distract my professor less if I wasn’t right in her face, after all.

Like the other students, I made myself comfortable and pulled my binder, textbook, a highlighter, and a pen out of my bag. I set the first sandwich and my bottle of cold brew alongside my class materials, making sure I didn’t take up more than my share of the two-person table. A glance up provided the intel that our professor had made her way to the room and was setting up at the front of the class, greeting other students as they arrived to the quickly filling room.

Mentally, I chastised myself for waiting so long to take American Literature as one of my English requirements. Obviously, the class was going to be packed with freshmen getting the class out of the way. I didn’t mind full classes, but Lit classes tended to be held in the smaller classrooms on campus, so those rooms filling up always felt more claustrophobic. I wasn’t against freshmen and sophomores—or any type of student, for that matter—I simply didn’t enjoy being packed into a room with them like sardines.

Ignoring the activity around me, I caught the professor’s eyes from across the room and discreetly held up my breakfast sandwich. She gave me a warm smile and a nod, so I tore the tin foil open. I was starving, and there was no way I could pay attention if my stomach was growling for an entire hour. By the time I was taking my first bite of my sandwich, the class was full, save for the seat at the table beside me.

Typically, being the only person without a tablemate would feel like being rejected by dozens of strangers. However, I’ve never seen it that way. I’ve always enjoyed having space to myself. Besides, I didn’t know anyone in the class. If they were rejecting me, who cared? And if they simply didn’t sit with me because they chose to sat with other students they knew, who was I to be upset? I had my materials, my cold brew, and my sandwich. An empty seat next to me wouldn’t ruin my morning.

The blessing of having a table all to myself was short-lived. As the professor began to take control of the excited students and begin class, a straggler slipped into the seat beside me. I was too busy masticating the giant bite of my sandwich to pay them any mind. However, as the professor was busy answering a question from a lost student who had wandered in from the hall, I swallowed the bite and turned to sate my curiosity.

For some reason, I wasn’t surprised to see Theo Hendrix sitting in the seat next to me, his arms crossed atop his textbook on the table. After running into him randomly the night before, it somehow seemed logical that we would have another chance encounter. Running into someone you least expect seems more realistic to me than someone would you expect. Otherwise, it wouldn’t be a chance encounter. That’s what makes it unsurprising.

That’s how my brain works. I don’t question it.

Sensing my eyes on him, Theo turned his head slightly to look at me out of the corner of his eye.

Smiling, I gave him an upwards nod of my head.

“Hi,” I said.

Theo looked at me for a moment, and though I might have imagined it, his nose seemed to crinkle. He gave me the sharpest of nods and turned his attention back to the front of the classroom.

Since I’m not Bella Swan, and I was fairly certain Theo wasn’t a vampire struggling to not devour me in a room full of other humans, I assumed he was simply an asshole. Then again, Edward was trying to ignore Bella’s alluring scent. With my haphazard hygiene before class, it was possible that Theo was trying to ignore the smell coming off of me as well. I shook those thoughts away and turned my attention back to my sandwich and the professor standing at the front of the room.

It suddenly dawned on me that it was fortunate that thoughts don’t appear in bubbles over our heads. If my American Literature professor found out I knew anything about Twilight, it was possible she’d give me a failing grade for the semester on our first day. The last thing I wanted a professor who was planning to lecture us about Waiting for Godot to know was that I was familiar with sparkly vampires.

Not that I was an expert on the books or movies, but it still seemed like something you keep to yourself in such an environment.

As I finished my sandwich and cold brew, I stared up at our professor as she spoke. Like most first days of classes in university, the bulk of her first lecture was over the syllabus and what to expect over the semester. I took a few notes in the margins of my printed-out syllabus in my binder and highlighted a few important dates and assignments. However, it quickly became apparent that our first day was going to be light on actual learning.

Our professor continued to speak and I considered pulling out my second sandwich, but decided against it. The breakfast sandwich would make a nice snack to have between class and lunchtime to keep me from getting ravenously hungry for the second time in one day. With nothing but the professor’s cursory first day lecture over the syllabus to occupy my attention, I found myself paying attention more to the room around me.

It suddenly occurred to me that several students at the tables in front of mine would discreetly glance over their shoulders to the back of the room. Specifically, it seemed as though they were looking at my table in particular. They’d glance over their shoulders, grin evilly, then turn to whisper something to the student sitting next to them. A moment later, the student they’d whispered to would take their turn looking over their shoulder, smiling, and then whisper something back to the first student.

I didn’t see it so much as sense that Theo was shrinking in his seat next to me, trying to make himself smaller. Though it should have occurred to me sooner, I realized the students in class were looking at and whispering about our resident social media star. Since I couldn’t hear what they were saying to each other, I wasn’t certain if their thoughts on Theo were positive. However, from the smirks on their faces, I assumed they were not.

Spending the first class and lecture worrying about someone else’s business irked me. Theo was sitting in a class he had also paid an exorbitant price to attend, and the other students were making it difficult for him to learn. I didn’t care how other students wasted their money, but distracting Theo and me was not making me happy.

After a few minutes, I was getting tired of the glances shot our way. When another student two tables ahead turned to look at us, I glared at him and twirled a finger angrily in the air, indicating he needed to turn around. He had the common sense to look ashamed, and turned away from us quickly. Though other students noticed the interaction and quietly giggled nervously, no one else turned around for the last half of the class.