2012. Part 1

 Pt. 1

Spring

He padded down the stairs, hands in his pockets, curly brown hair in his eyes. All these people, and not one of them could bother to say excuse me? Typical collegiate scum, he supposed, as he continued on his way. His backpack was heavy with textbooks teetering on the edge of obsolescence, being that this was the last day of final exams. Once these last few classes were done, the task of reselling them to the bookstore for 25% of what he purchased them for would begin. Otherwise he could wait until the next semester started and hope for some desperate procrastinator like himself to need them last minute, posting on the community web pages when the bookstore clerk would shrug their shoulders and say, "sorry kid, it's a three week wait;" then he could charge 75% what they would and get it in cold hard cash and everyone would win.

"Hey! What the hell, man, watch where you're - oh, hey there, ___." He heard a familiar laugh, and looked up, a deer in headlights. 

Lost in his thoughts, he'd accidentally become the scum he'd just been mentally chastising & smacked right into her. Her drink was now all down the front of the friend she'd been chatting with in the corridor, but neither of them noticed for a moment. After she'd said his name and immediately started to laugh about the encounter, he had just felt frozen for a moment. It'd been a long time since he'd heard her laugh, it was like- his thought was interrupted.

"Do you have any napkins left?" the friend pleaded, also chuckling but clearly less amused than she was. "I used all of mine to get that cream cheese off of my-"

"Oh shit,yeah, let me- sorry- one sec," she began digging through her bag.

"My bad, I didn't mean to-" he started.

"Oh no biggie, it's my last final of the day, I just don't want to-"

"Here they are, my god!" A haphazard mass of napkins were quickly produced from the bag, as if they'd lived in there for 30 years, instead of only 30 minutes. Sounds about right; she was always prepared, just always somehow slightly a mess.

"Thanks. I just don't want to smell like whatever the fuck concoction she has in that cup," the friend gestured to the now slightly crumpled paper fountain drink. "You should've seen her at that new drink dispenser. She's nuts, dude. Absolutely certifiable." The friend raised a hand to their temple, making the cukoo signal as they finished drying their shirt as much as humanly possible.

"Oh sure," he laughed, "I've seen her at the standard issue ones, I can't imagine what she'd do with that sort of unbridled power. Over 100 options in one place? That's asking for some mad scientist level-"

"Alright, alright, don't we all have somewhere to be that doesn't involve roasting me? Yeesh, you guys, give it up." If her eyes had rolled any farther back into her head, it would've been a new record. "Lovely of you to show up for such an occasion," and there it was again, his name coming out of her mouth. He hadn't realized how much he'd missed that sound.

☀

After their final exam, she left the classroom to find him waiting in the communal sitting area with her friend whose shirt was now dry, but definitely stained. They were chatting quietly, no doubt having already razzed her a couple more times. A bonding experience, they'd later call it, we'd never even met until then, so of course we had to find something in common while we waited! As she approached the two of them, he glanced up, eyes barely visible under that hair of his. Some things never change, she thought.

"How do you think you did?" her friend asks. "That freaking equestion on the third page was brutal, dude. I know I got that one wrong, but the rest of it seemed just the normal level of fuckin awful."

"Eh, I don't know. It's math, so I'm never sure until I get it back how I did. I just have to hope I knew what I was doing," shrugging off her backpack, she looked over at him. "What about you, what are you still doing here? Got dead time before another exam?"

He lets out a singular soft chuckle. "Oh, no," glancing over at her friend, then back at her, "I was going to see if you guys maybe wanted to go grab lunch or something now that we're all done with finals? Another semester of college officially over? We survived!" He stands and makes a "ta-da" gesture, raising his eyebrows, and giving a boyish grin. 

"Oh! Well um," she sheepishly gestured with her purse, "normally I'd be down, but I actually get paid tomorrow & I kinda spent my spare change on that pop this morning, so I'll have to-"

"Ah, no biggie, my treat," he waves her off, turning to look at her friend. "How 'bout you, you wanna come with? I'm payin' for you too, seeing as I wrecked your shirt & all." Her friend looked up at him from her chair, then down at the amoeba shape that was splashed across her chest and stomach.

"Nah, I should probably just go home & change before work, but thanks anyways, ____. It's really no big deal, should wash right out." He'd already turned back, allowing a silent demand to occur behind him, the friend's eyes boring into hers. You better go with him! You know I don't have work, just fucking go on this date, and report back immediately!

"Well then I guess it's settled, just you and me? I can drive, promise my car won't bite your ankles this time," he joked, chuckling slightly uncomfortably. "And I believe I owe you a meal from that night anyways, right? You made me let you pay for your own? Well it's time for sweet redemption my friend."

"Oh, is it now?" She rolled her eyes & waved goodbye to her friend, falling in step with him. "And how exactly do you plan to redeem the fact that you couldn't even match your tie to my dress? I gave you over a month of planning time, dude." 

"Well how does a steak at Texas Roadhouse sound? Can that be the start of my redemption arc?"

"You said lunch, ___, that's a full blown dinner," she shoved his arm and he stumbled slightly as they approached the curb of the parking lot.

"Hey, I'm walkin' heyar!" Straightening back out after that terrible Boston accent, his voice dropped lower, "yeah, well, I owe ya," and down an octave or two even further, slipping back into its familiar mysterious & sly tone, "don't I?" 

Well, fuck, she thought, here we go again.