When we reach the door, he groans. “Why did you force me to take this class?”
I huff. “Because it’s good for you. The country isn’t just made up of the English language anymore. If you want a good job straight out of college, it looks good on your resume that you’ll know more than your native tongue.”
Jacob stops, his hand hovering over the handle of the Spanish room’s door. I meet his eyes only to find the scowl back on his face. “You’re like a mother hen.”
I shove his shoulder. “Someone has to keep you in line, or you’d fuck your way to the top and graduate with ten STDs.”
His nose wrinkles as he yanks the door open. “That was a low blow.”
This level of Spanish is held in a lecture hall this year. Something about not having enough space and giving its old space to a different department. I’m not sure of the details, but I’m sure it pissed off someone that Spanish wasn’t important enough to have an actual classroom. Either way, it doesn’t bother me. I prefer the lecture hall seats over the hard metal ones of Smithson University’s classrooms anyway.
Rows and rows of padded seating with small desks unfolded from the right arm of the chairs travel down until there’s an empty space for the lecture podium. Behind that are some rolled-in whiteboards, all currently blank and ready for use. The professor is nowhere in sight, but we’re a little early, so that’s no surprise.
“Dude,” Jacob says, drawing my attention with the point of his finger. “Ivy’s here.”
Without a word, he makes his way down the middle row, and I follow, my eyes finally landing on Ivy and…Avery.
I suck in a deep breath. She’s here. Shit, she’s here, and for the first time in days, a weight is lifted off my chest.
Today, she’s wearing a light gray university sweater with light blue skinny jeans. If she’s wearing makeup, I don’t see a trace of it. She bends down to get something out of her backpack by her feet, and her loose hair spills over her cheek, but she has yet to notice us.
A smile grows on my face, knowing that I couldn’t have planned this better.
I stop Jacob before he can scoot into the seats and make my way in first. Avery doesn’t look up from her now-open laptop until I plop down in the seat next to her. She jumps in her seat, and her hand flies to her heart.
“Spanish, huh?” I ask, my voice hushed as both Jacob and Ivy share a look with each other. I’m sure it looks odd that I insisted on sitting next to Avery. I really don’t care right now. I couldn’t pass up this opportunity.
Nervously, she tucks a lock of hair behind her ear. By doing that little gesture, the smell of her fruity shampoo reaches my nose, and I fight the urge to lean over and take a deeper breath.
“W-What are you doing here?” There’s a tremble in her voice that’s adorable.
I grin a little when she finally meets my gaze and holds it for longer than a second. “You’re not the only one minoring in a second language, you know.”
“Oh,” she whispers and then clears her throat. “Right.”
“Is that a problem?” I ask when she says nothing more and fires up her laptop. Her foot jiggles though, telling me she now has anxiety over me being here.
Frowning, she cuts me a glance. “No,” she whispers. “But…can’t you sit somewhere else?”
Humor dances in my tone when I say, “No. The other seats are taken.”
She surveys the room, the frown deepening. “There are literally fifty other chairs to choose from.”
I shrug and pull my laptop out of my bag, making it clear that I don’t plan on moving. She’s not getting rid of me that easily. “None next to you.”
Hissing through her teeth, she says, “What is yourdealwith me?”
Ivy and Jacob lean further forward in their seats, but it’s Ivy who asks, “Do you two know each other or something?”
Without looking away from each other, we both lie, “No.”
Ivy raises an eyebrow. “Are you sure because-”
“No,” we both say again as the professor strides into the room with his papers and packets and a large book balanced in his arms. He sets them down on a table to the right of the podium, and Avery finally breaks eye contact with me, facing forward and squaring her shoulders in determination.
I hide my smirk well, and as the professor starts to talk about himself, his accomplishments, and the expectations of this class, I open up a Word document and start typing a message.
Me
