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Iris
“Move, you bastard! Do you have a stick stuck up your ass or what?”
It’s no use, the idiot in front of me and his shitty car keep on driving at two miles an hour. Seriously, we’re going fifteen miles an hour on a road limited to forty-five! I’m going to get out and beat the crap out of him.
Who said that Monday mornings were synonymous with good moods? No one did? That’s what I thought.
I swear I’m not doing it on purpose, it’s like I’m conditioned to miss half of Mrs. Richards’ classes.
I put my hand down on my horn again and let out another curse.
Finally, after a half mile, the road widens, allowing me to pass the old van.
Like a kid, I raise my middle finger in the direction of the stunned driver and finally press the gas pedal.
A few minutes later, I run into the building. I blow on a strand of red hair that falls in front of my eyes while preventing my bag from tumbling off my shoulder. I almost bump into a student at the corner of a hallway. She stares at me with a bewildered look. What? I have a booger hanging out? Forgot to put on a bra?
No time to think, I pass her and go back to the amphitheater. I stop about fifty feet before the entrance and hurry to catch my breath. There’s no way I’m going to go in there sweating like a pig and breathing as hard as a porn actress in full orgasm.
As I place my hands on my knees, the door opens and several students exit the lecture hall.
What? But it’s not possible, I had a class here, right? I’m only twenty minutes late. I catch a guy on his way out.
“Hey,” I call out, putting my hand on his shoulder, “isn’t Mrs. Richards here?”
He quickly glances at my upper body before answering me with a little smile. “We finished early. She had an appointment.”
I almost cry out in relief. At least I didn’t miss much of her class!
“For the record, we have a group assignment due in three weeks, the pairs were formed this morning.”
“But I…I wasn’t there!”
He laughs softly at my panicked tone. He stares at my chest again with an interested look. I hold back from rolling my eyes. I’m definitely not ready for a laborious attempt at flirting.
“So I guess you can prepare yourself for a zero. I’m just kidding,” he is quick to correct when he sees my eyes pop out of their sockets. “Just go to her.”
I nod and walk away, mumbling a quick thank you.
“Hey!” he calls out to me again. “Is that—”
“No, I’m not interested. No, I won’t sleep with you. Thanks for your proposal,” I cut him off, absolutely not in the mood for this.
I hear him laughing frankly.
“I’m not asking you out. I just wanted to tell you that your T-shirt was backwards.”
I close my eyes for a moment, breathing in calmly. Don’t fucking tell me that…
Damn it, I growl inwardly as I notice my tag is on my upper chest instead of on my back. This is why he was looking at me weirdly. With no time to change, I avoid the students coming out of the lecture hall and rush in.
There are only a few people left. Without worrying about the image I must give off at this moment, I run down the steps and reach the dais. Professor Richards is putting her MacBook in a pouch when she sees me bursting in.
“Hello…I…excuse me, I think I have a little problem.”
Very bad opening. She raises her piercing gaze to me and immediately notices the tag on my top, which I’m wearing backwards.
“I can see that.”
