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“Trust me to handle this. We’ll get it done, and everything will be fine.”
“If you say so, Max.”
9
Dani
Note to self: Get to class earlier to get a better seat.
“While I know the first couple days back during the semester are boring syllabus days, I still want you to heed the title of our next lecture on Wednesday: What is Conflict Management? It might seem like an easy question, until you try to answer it yourself. You will find, more likely than not, that your answer brings on more conflict to manage, as does most natural events throughout the course of your day. The point of this course is to work on your negotiation skills. How to manage conflict that comes with every word you say and every sentence you toss out into the world. These are the basics that separate you from everyone else. These are the things that keep you safe. And these are the basics that catapult you into a completely different subset of human interaction.”
‘Negotiation and Conflict Management’ was one of my elective courses. And the more the professor talked, the more excited I was for the class. This settled my debate class requirement as well as opened the door for some of my more advanced courses I’d have to take next year. I was excited to knock two things out at once while having a bit of fun in the process.
As nerdy as that might have sounded.
I didn't like being in the back row, though. It came with a stereotype I didn’t want to be attached to. I looked to my right, watching as the boy at the end of the row picked his nose. He had a friend practically snoring on his shoulder. And the girl next to me was slumped so far down into her seat I thought she might slide onto the floor. I turned to my left and gazed at the open chair next to me.
Then the door of the classroom burst open.
“Sorry. Don't mind me. Doctor’s note.”
The professor stopped talking as my jaw dropped open.
Benji, with a crooked grin on his face and the same black outfit I’d seen him wear twice now, walked over and slapped a piece of paper onto the professor’s desk. He gazed out among the class, looking up the tiers we all sat on. And when his eyes met mine, I wanted to melt to the floor like the girl sitting next to me.
“The next time you’re this late, don’t bother showing up,” the professor said. “And this is college. Doctor’s notes don’t work here, Mr.--”
He made his way for me. “Just call me Benji.”
“Next time you’re this late, don’t bother coming,” the professor repeated.
I watched in horror as he dropped down into the seat next to me. In the back row. And I saw the look of judgment on the professor’s face.
Yes, definitely arrive early Wednesday morning for class.
“Well hey there, sweetheart. Long time no see.”
I tried my best to ignore him as I glued my eyes to the whiteboard at the front of the class.
“Well, you’re looking more uptight than you did yesterday. Where’s your bonnet?”
I shifted in my seat, scooting as far away from Benji as I could. He snickered at me before he tossed his books to the floor, making as much noise as possible. I wanted to strangle him. I squinted my eyes in an effort to focus my hearing. But the more Benji rustled around, the more distracted I became.
“Are you serious right now?” I hissed.
He grinned. “What? Can’t concentrate? Sounds like a personal problem.”
“Is there an issue back there?”
The professor’s voice caught my ear and I shook my head.
“No, sir. I’m very sorry,” I said.
“Uh huh,” he said.
“Uh huh,” Benji mocked.
“Shut up,” I murmured.
