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I smile. He sent that text Monday too. I couldn't because I had to close. Yesterday, he said he wished he could see me, but he was working. Unfortunately, I'm working today. A text like that from Emerson is a great thing to wake up to first thing in the morning.
Me: I have to work. :(
Emerson: Come afterward and spend the night.
Me: I won't be there until almost nine.
Emerson: What's your point?
Before I can reply, he sends another text.
Emerson: What if I said I have a surprise for you?
Me: Fine. You cornered me! I'll be there.
Emerson: Haha, good.
I roll out of bed and head to the shower, wondering what his surprise could be this time. Is he taking me somewhere again? Did he get me something? What could it be? The possibilities are endless, so I happily settle with the thought that there is a surprise. I make sure to shave my legs, so they're smooth later.
“Damn it!” I curse under my breath as I nick myself with the razor. Being a girl is full of hazards. Some days, it really gets to me. The shaving, the periods, the boob sweat, and all the money spent on hairpins because they just like to disappear without a trace. But I can handle one little cut on the back of my ankle.
The rest of my getting ready process goes smoothly. Catherine is still sleeping since she doesn't have a class until noon today, so I grab my things and quietly leave the dorm. I'm a morning class girl myself. Most people prefer to get them later in the day if they can, but I'd rather go ahead and get it over with. There's a slight chill in the air, and I'm grinning because fall is on the way. Sure, it'll be in the high seventies later, but I can't wait for the full changing of the seasons.
Before I go into my class, I stop at the vending machine for a soda. I'm thinking it'll be grape soda today. I don't really have a favorite drink. I usually pick one at random or go with whatever I'm feeling like. The vending machine takes my dollar on the first try, and I mentally high-five myself over the accomplishment.
The bottle tumbles out. I pick it up and twist the cap to open it. The fizz quickly rises to the top, spewing out before I have a chance to close the lid since I've already fully opened it. I groan in frustration as the purple liquid soaks into my bright green shirt.
“You've got to be kidding me,” I mumble under my breath. No wonder the damn vending machine took my money with ease. It had an evil plan in waiting.
“Here.” I glance up just in time to see a random guy with handful of paper towels in his hand reach out to pat my soaked chest.
I quickly take a few steps back. “How about I just take the towels?” How creepy is he?! You can't touch my breasts like that, not even to help! I don't know him!
The guy shrugs, hands me the towels, and walks away. I glance at the clock on the wall. I have one minute before class starts. Crap. I don't have time to run to the dorms to change or even go to the nearby bathroom. I wipe my hands, arms, and shirt the best I can before entering the classroom.
The professor starts his lecture, and I try to take notes, but all I can focus on is how sticky I am. I can't stand to be sticky. Thankfully, this is my only class today, so I can shower afterward. Halfway through class, my pen runs out of ink.
You've got to be kidding me.
My favorite pen has died on me?
On the one day I didn't bring extra pens!
I cringe at the thought of typing notes on my phone with my sticky fingers, but since my pen died, I have no choice. Nothing else bad happens for the rest of the class.
Until I try to leave.
I trip going down the concrete stairs, skinning my hands and knees which burn immediately. No one offers help this time, and I'm half glad for it. I don't do well with these kinds of days. My grouchiness is through the roof. My eyes are watery because this is stupid crap and things like this make me want to shed a few tears in anger.
“Eva?” I hear once I've stood. I turn to see Emerson. My shoulders droop. He would appear at a time like this. “What happened to you?” he frowns as he gives me a once-over.
“What didn't happen to me?” I snap, fully irritated with my day.
His eyes widen with surprise. “That bad of a start to your day?”
“Look at me!” I motion with my hands at my soaked shirt and my knees, which I'm sure are bleeding but I'm not looking. “What do you think?”
“I think I have perfect timing. Do you have another class?” I shake my head and he holds out his hand. “C'mon.” He gently holds my hand in his as we begin to walk.
