I spent the rest of Saturday night after my heartbreaking conversation with Matt hanging out with Tyler. We drank too much, danced too much, and had too good of a time for someone who just had her heart broken. At a certain point, my memories of the night are a blur. It takes a lot of alcohol to get a werewolf drunk, but I guess I exceeded that limit. That’s a first for me.
I just remember waking up in Tyler’s bed the next day. My clothes were still on, so I don’t think anything happened between us. I sat up, scrubbing the sleep out of my eyes, and looked to my right to find him still sleeping soundly next to me. So, I did the only sane, rational thing a girl in my position should do. I snuck out, quiet as a mouse, being careful not to disturb anyone in hopes of avoiding awkward conversations. I wasn’t in the mood for any of the guys right then.
I went back to my dorm room and hung out with Ronnie the rest of the day. When it was just the two of us by ourselves, she seemed more comfortable and relaxed. I learned a lot about her in just a couple hours. Her father died when she was young, her mom is a single mom and has two younger children, which is why no one came with her on the first day. Ronnie drove herself. She has never had a boyfriend and is basically married to her studies, not willing to settle for anything less than a perfect GPA, and oh yeah, she’s only 16!
That’s funny, considering that I’m the oldest freshman and she’s the youngest, and here we are rooming together. At least she’s cool, even though she is so young. We share a similar taste in music and movies, so I think this arrangement will work out well.
Monday morning rolls around and it is time to take a quick shower, throw on some clothes and a couple swipes of mascara, and head out to my first class. It’s too early in the morning to put effort into my appearance, and I find that I don’t really care what I look like since the only person I want to impress is still stuck on his fiancée. I mean, good for him. He’s loyal. Just wish it were to me.
My first class is one Matt and I have in common. When my dad had his friend look up Matt’s schedule, they found that most of the courses he is taking require prerequisites that I can’t satisfy, of course. Makes sense, he’s been at this a few years. There were two of the five that don’t, though – this psych class, and biology 101. Talk about procrastinating. He should have taken that already, but it works out for me that he didn’t. I like science, and it should be interesting to have him in that class.
I make the trek across campus in somewhat of a lethargic daze, not really paying attention to anything other than putting one foot in front of the other until I get where I’m going. I don’t have any issues getting up early in the morning for training back home but getting up and going to sit in a classroom is a different story. It’s not motivating. I’ve always been a good student, but I’ve usually dragged my feet a little in the process, too.
When I get to the classroom, I find it nearly empty and realize that things work very differently here. At school back home, if a class starts at 8:00 in the morning you had better have your butt in your seat by 7:50. Here, at 7:56 there are only three students who have shown up so far. Good to know.
I claim a seat and take my book and notebook out of my bag, setting them in front of me on the long table that serves as a desk shared between six students. Then I sit and wait, discovering that it’s really awkward having nothing better to do than watch all the other students file in. Matt shows up at about 8:05, but I guess he is not technically late because the professor is nowhere to be seen yet anyway. Much to my surprise, he drops into the seat next to mine and gives me a crooked smile.
“You stalking me?” he leans over and whispers teasingly.
“Hah, you wish,” I retort. “Besides, I was here first. You stalking me?”
He grins, then reaches over and taps on the table in front of me twice with his finger. I have no idea what that even means, but I don’t ask, either, because the professor finally decides to make his appearance.
He breezes into the room and gets right to work handing out the course syllabus and going over all the expectations for the semester. He doesn’t call attendance or really even make any effort to learn anyone’s name, just jumps right into an introductory lecture and talking about some of the big assignments later in the term. This is all so different than what I am used to, but I like it. I also like how soothing it is to have Matt sitting right next to me, and what I appreciate most of all is that I didn’t have to ask or be the one to make that happen.
The professor dismisses us twenty minutes early, warning us not to expect that as a general rule. I scoop up my things and dump them in my book bag, and then am surprised when Matt picks it up and carries it for me.
“Where are you off to next?” he asks as we exit the classroom, keeping his tone casual.
He might be playing it cool, but I find myself growing suspicious.
“Why are you sucking up to me?” I question him, trying to keep a light-hearted tone to my voice, but I’m not sure that I succeed.
“Sucking up to you? I’m just being nice,” he claims, but the way he looks fidgety and uncomfortable betrays him.
He doesn’t even wait for me to call him out.
“Okay, fine," he says not even a beat later. "Truth is, I feel really bad about our conversation the other night. In the moment, I thought it went well, but all day yesterday I just kept playing it over and over in my head, and I realized that I came off as kind of a jerk. You basically told me you were in love with me and waited years for me to come back, and my response was, ‘That’s nice, but you’re not the girl for me.’ I mean, I can’t do anything about the truth of it, but I do just want you to know that I care about you, and I don’t want you to be hurt. And I do hope we can put all those feelings aside and be friends. So, here I am, trying to be a good friend, and maybe sucking up a little.”
He gives me a shy smile, seeming nervous about how I might respond to that.
I look at him for a few seconds not really saying anything. Honestly, I don’t know the best way to respond to that. I have mixed feelings about it. So, I do what I do best and just say the first thing that comes to mind.
“At least you were thinking about me.”
He smirks and chuckles softly, obviously thinking that was my joke response, but it wasn’t. I roll with it, though.
“To answer your question, I don’t have anywhere to be for a while, so I was thinking about heading back to my dorm and back to bed,” I tell him. “Maybe grab some breakfast or something, I don’t know. And this afternoon, I have an English class. Nothing too exciting.”
“I don’t know about that. Naps are always a good time,” he comments with a smirk. “College students run on caffeine, naps, and microwaveable meals, so you’re already doing it right.”
I laugh and reach for my book bag to take it back from him. He doesn’t need to literally be hauling around the weight of his guilt for me.
“Thanks, but I’ve got this,” I tell him. “See you around, Matt.”
Tomorrow, to be exact. You, me, biology class. But I obviously can’t tell him I know that. Then it really would seem like I’m stalking him.
I give him a brief hug and turn to leave, heading back in the direction of my dorm. I really do need a nap. This whole thing with him is already such an exhausting rollercoaster, and I know we’re just getting started.