Todd goes on, heedless of my actual existential crisis. “Hey, want to check out a bar downtown this weekend? I heard they have half-price well drinks.”
Crappy off-brand liquor holds very little appeal to me, but Iamsupposed to meet my dad for dinner this weekend. “Yeah. You know what? That sounds perfect.”
Todd beams, shoving another piece of pizza in his mouth crust-first.
Maybe the world isn’t supposed to make sense.
It’s not exactly a comforting thought.
Chapter 4
Trevor
There’s light coming in the window when I wake on Friday. Not a good sign.
I curse, grabbing my phone off the nightstand only to realize it’s dead. Checking the cord, I find the plug hanging halfway out of the wall socket. Cursing again, I nudge it flush, and my phone starts to charge.
Tugging on jeans, I make my way down the hall to the kitchen. The microwave tells me it’s half past seven.
I close my eyes for only a moment before hustling into gear. I’ll likely be late for my class.
And I missed my morning with Red.
The apartment is quiet as I get ready, only doing the bare minimum to be presentable. My uncle is still fast asleep, his hours at the tattoo shop allowing him to be a late riser.
Dressed and backpack in hand, I grab my barely charged phone and head out.
The hallway outside of my class is quiet as I walk down it, the clock on the wall showing four past eight. I steel myself before opening the door.
I’ve only taken a single step inside when the professor stops talking. He looks pointedly from me to his watch. “Mr. Slade. So nice of you to joinus.”
He says it as if I have a habit of being tardy for his class, when this is the first time. But I know better than to give him any attitude. “Sorry I’m late.”
He waves a hand toward the available seats, which I take to mean I should sit the fuck down so he can get on with it. I open my backpack as quietly as possible once seated, but I don’t miss the professor’s prolonged glare as he resumes speaking. Nor the way his eyes trail down to the tattoos on my neck, visible thanks to the crewneck I shoved on in this morning’s haste.
It’s easy to see the disapproval in his eyes. It’s the very reason I’ve taken to covering up as much as possible in his class. I’m not ashamed of my tattoos, but I’m pragmatic enough to recognize I won’t win against a professor of this college when it comes to defending myself against his preconceived notions of my character.
He has the power to flunk me if he chooses.
I don’t want to give him a reason to make that choice.
The two-hour class lasts a veritable lifetime, but I pay close attention throughout. When we’re dismissed, I’m grateful to make it out the door without being called to the professor’s office.
The sun is bright when I step outside the building, the day warm for being nearly smack-dab in the middle of winter. I look off toward the nearby parking lot, knowing I should be on my way home to get some classwork done before work tonight. I didn’t bring my materials with me, not having had the time to plan for it. But my feet take me in the opposite direction anyway, toward the library.
There’s very little chance I’ll run into Red this time of day. Our paths never crossed before when I’d come here to studyafter my class. It was only a change in my routine that had the two of us bumping into each other in the first place.
But I still make my way up to the third floor to check our table.
It’s empty, as I expected. Apart from one small sticky note.
A laugh puffs out of me when I read the word “Mine” scrawled on the yellow surface. Cheeky little fuck.
I grab the piece of paper, folding it carefully in half once and then twice before pocketing it.
Maybe I’ll catch him on Monday.
The bar is loud tonight.
