Code Blue

Lexi vs. Advanced Microeconomics

I was practically drooling.

Tapping my lavender polished nails against the underside of the ceramic plate, I licked my lips as I surveyed the various breakfast options. There were more types of fruit than I could imagine as well as eggs and potatoes and bacon and an omelet station and my mind was about to explode because I didn’t know what to choose.

Quinn appeared beside me, holding a bowl of cereal in one hand and a glass of orange juice in the other.

“Are you alright?” she asked skeptically, raising an eyebrow.

I nodded, wide eyed. “I’ve just never seen so much food in my life.”

She laughed. “Yeah, I guess they figure we’re starving and broke students, so they should give as many options as possible in the dining hall. Wait until you see what they have for lunch.”

My stomach growled at the thought, so I figured I should probably get to eating. After loading my plate up with various types of fruit and muffins, I followed Quinn to a nearby table and sat down. And then I realized there was no way I was going to survive the day without coffee, so I rose again to go the small coffee bar to the side.

While I was filling up a small Styrofoam cup, I felt a presence to my right.

“Fancy running into you here.”

I breathed in deeply and turned to face him, shooting him a friendly smile. “Hello.”

Max grinned, those damn twinkling eyes doing what they do as he reached out to grab a cup. “Good morning, Evie. You look lovely today.”

“Thanks,” I gulped. “So do you.”

I hadn’t actually meant to say that, but he smiled at me as though it was a compliment he received on a regular basis. And to be honest, it probably was, seeing as he somehow made jeans and a black t-shirt with the sleeves rolled up look like it had just come off the runway.

I watched as he filled up his cup and grabbed a disposable lid, calling out “See you around,” as he walked away.

Well, that was frustrating.

Sighing, I returned to the table where Quinn sat and slipped into the seat across from her, deciding not to notice the overly excited look on her face. Unfortunately, she seemed pretty eager not to let it go.

“So, first Max Stafford interaction of the day,” she commented, “How does it feel?”

“I don’t understand how someone I’ve only met once can make me so…”

“Flustered?” she offered.

“Angry,” I nodded. “That’s the word I’m looking for. He’s so difficult to read and it ticks me off.”

Despite the fact that he had been friendly and flirtatious, I was finding it difficult to come to any sort of logical conclusion about Max. He seemed to be an expert at only showing the emotions he wanted people to see. I had meant what I said to Evan the day before: Max seemed like a normal student and that was highly unusual considering his family ties.

So either he knew nothing about the family business, or he was extremely adept at keeping that part of his life separate from his school life.

It was my job to figure out which one was true.

“I think they call that s****l tension,” Quinn said quietly, holding back a smile.

I rolled my eyes. “I may find him attractive, but I’ve spent a total of five minutes with the guy.”

She shrugged. “Doesn’t mean it’s not there.”

I ignored her comment and changed the topic of conversation to our classes for the day. Seeing as we were studying entirely different subjects, we had no classes together, but we did have a break at the same time for lunch, so we decided to meet up then. 

After finishing our breakfasts, we said goodbye at the door to the dining hall and headed in separate directions to our classes. A few minutes into figuring out which building I needed to go to, I realized Max was walking a little ways ahead of me, talking animatedly to a friend.

I already knew we were going to the same class, Advanced Microeconomics. I’d groaned when I’d seen my schedule, but I knew this class was supposed to give me the first to chance to form some sort of bond with Max. It wasn’t supposed to seem like I was trying too hard to be near him, though, so I slowed my pace and waited near a tree until his disappeared inside a large brick building before taking the steps two at a time.

The lecture hall was gigantic, seating at least four hundred people, and I stared in wide eyed amazement at the thought of being in class with that many people before I spotted the back of Max’s head, sitting in a seat beside his friend in the second row.

Taking a deep breath, I wandered down the aisles until I reached his row and slipped into a chair a few seats down from him, attempting to make it look as though I’d ended up there by pure coincidence.

He finally noticed I was there while I was unzipping my tote bag to pull out a notebook and pen.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were stalking me.”

I looked up as I uncapped my pen, raising my eyebrows in faux surprise at his presence. “Or maybe you’re following me.”

He pressed his lips together as though trying not to laugh. “There’s an interesting thought.” Leaning back in his chair, he settled in comfortably. “So what brings you to Advanced Microeconomics?”

“I’m studying Economics,” I explained, trying not cringe as I said the words.

His eyebrows shot up. “Really? Me too. Along with Math.”

I laughed. “What are the odds?”

He leaned towards me, tapping his fingers on the arm of his chair. “I don’t know, Evie. What are they?”

I felt as though my heart was being squeezed in my chest. It would be just my luck if he figured out who I was within twenty-four hours of meeting me. Gulping, I shrugged as I racked my brain for a way out of this conversation.

Sensing my sudden discomfort, he laughed and shook his head, reaching up to run a hand through his thick hair. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re easily flustered?”

“No,” I replied quickly. “Never.”

“Well, you are,” he smiled widely. “It’s highly entertaining.”

I rolled my eyes and shifted in my seat, thankful that the professor had cleared her throat to announce the beginning of class.

I tried my hardest to seem interested, I really did. The professor was funny and knowledgeable, but she tended to go off on tangents, so even if I understood the concept, ten minutes later, I had no idea whether it was actually important.

And the fact that I was sitting close to Max wasn’t at all helpful.

Not because I found his attractiveness distracting, but more because the way he engaged in the class was confusing. Sometimes, I would glance to the side to find him aptly paying attention and taking diligent notes. Other times, I’d hear him humming softly and look over to see him drawing doodles of rocket ships across the top of his page.

Still, at the end of class, he asked a question about the income elasticity of demand that I didn’t understand at all, so I figured he must have had some idea what was going on. Apparently the scenario where he tutored me might actually have to play out.

When the professor dismissed the class, I packed my things slowly, trying to figure out how to best start another conversation with Max. Perhaps ask him to help me in the class? It might be a little premature for that. We’d barely done anything, so I could probably wait a little while and see if I could figure it out on my own.

I was saved the trouble of having to speak first when Max appeared beside me in the aisle.

“I think this class is going to be good,” he said, tugging the straps of his backpack tighter over his shoulders. “The professor is highly recommended.”

“Yeah, I heard that too,” I lied, “Should be a good term.”

He nodded, pausing to shove his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “So, are you coming to the LIB meeting this week?”

Right. I had gotten the flyer, but I honestly hadn’t actually looked at it yet.

“Of course,” I replied brightly as we walked down the steps of the building, “Remind me when it is again?”

“Thursday night at 6,” he grinned, exuding genuine excitement at the thought, “In the Student Union.”

“Alright,” I nodded, making a mental note of the time and place, “I’ll be there.”

His eyes glinted with amusement and his lips twisted into a smirk. “Of course you will. We both know you just can’t stay away.”

Before I could respond, he flicked his eyes up and down appreciatively, winked, and then walked away.

The worst part was that he was right: technically speaking, it was my job to stay close to him, so I couldn’t even purposely not turn up at the meeting out of spite.

Infuriating bastard.

I sighed heavily as I turned the opposite direction and headed towards my next class. Maybe this professor would be teaching a lesson in how to handle Max Stafford.