I’d say that’s sweet, but we both know you don’t do sappy. How drunk are you?
Annoying Twin
Completely sober. Sitting at one of the brothels while the good doc does her rounds with the staff.
The class falls quieter when the door opens for the final time, and a middle-aged man strides in. He heads for the podium, plugging his laptop into the projection system.
Me
Class is starting. I have to look studious.
Annoying Twin
Tell Serafina I need a picture of you for proof.
Me
Blackmail material, you mean.
Annoying Twin
I rest the phone screen side down on the tiny, attached desk as the professor begins introducing himself. In front of me, Serafina sits a bit straighter, her chin resting on her palm as she raptly listens. I find myself curious, wishing I claimed the chair beside her. Considering I wasn’t planning on being even this close, I understand why I didn’t.
Class is as boring, as expected. Students range from paying attention to outright ignoring the teacher, playing on their phone instead. I take no notes, instead zoning out, almost missing his dismissal at the end of the scheduled session.
Serafina packs her stuff and shuffles to the aisle, glancing at me with a raised brow that asks,Coming?
I trail her into the hallway, where she heads only three doors down, checking the number against her class list before slipping inside. By the doorway, I wait as she chooses a place to sit—about two-thirds up—before turning away. Students are packed tightly together, the halls busier than earlier, but I barrel through, aiming for the small coffee shop Serafina was staring at.
After buying two plain black coffees and grabbing a handful of creamers and sugar packets, unaware how she takes hers, I return to the lecture hall.
She glances up at my entrance, tracking me until I pause to rest a paper cup beside her, deposit the handful of cream and sugar, then climb the remainder of the way to the top row and claim the seat closest to the aisle.
Much like the first class, the professor introduces herself and then the course: Introduction to Advanced Chemistry. With a sigh, I settle in for more boring content while the professor lists subjects they’ll later be tested on, the kinds of labs to follow in the afternoons. If only Serafina was a Computer Science major…
When class ends, Serafina packs up and lingers outside the room rather than taking off. She falls into step beside me and tosses the empty coffee cup in the first bin we pass.
“I have a break,” she murmurs, “so I thought we could grab lunch.”
She leads the way outside, directing me through the crowds doing their darndest to have me running for cover. Once through the crowd and a short distance from the chaos, she slows. Her head remains low, but her eyes lift my way, reminding me of the shy woman I encountered that night in my room. The onenotin the photos online, which, after a couple days with her, I’mseeing as being entirely faked, though not sure why she’d put on a different façade with her friends.
“Thanks for the coffee.”
“Don’t mention it.”
“How’d you know?”
“Watching you is my job. You stared too long for someone who didn’t want one.”
“I’ll pay you back if you let me know where to send the money.”
“Don’t. It wasn’t why I did it.”
Pink decorates her cheeks, but she shakes her head and picks up her pace, pulling slightly ahead until we make it to the dining hall. She breaks off to grab a burger while I snag an apple from the fruit bar and then find a table giving me a clear view of the entire room.
Given that it’s past noon, the only students in here are those like Serafina, who are eating a late lunch. It leaves a lot of tables available, and she claims one in the centre before glancing my way. Her stare lingers for ten seconds before her attention moves to her phone.
I bite into the apple while counting down the seconds until this day ends.
