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David Trent, but let’s so not go there. “Is it always going to be weird between us?” I ask her. “Is there always going to be this little strangeness about the two of us?”
She cocks her head at me. “The fact that you left me for a guy or that I’m now sleeping with his brother, your best friend?”
I wince. “I really could do without that thought.”
“Really? How do you think I feel? What was it you whispered to Creed that day you told us about you two? You said that it was you that… you know.” She flushes, and this causes my own face to burn.
“Not all the time,” I say, trying to cover it up, distracted by my embarrassment. “Usually, he does me.”
Ah, shit.
She coughs, but chokes on the air rushing out of her mouth and starts hacking up a lung. I slap her on the back a few times as she bends over and puts her head between her knees, looking around to make sure nobody’s watching my dying ex-girlfriend, or myself, an apparent bottom bitch with a Transformers backpack. No one seems to notice us, which is great because I think Anna might actually hork up a lung, something I really don’t want to see. Either she’s overreacting or I just overshared. It’s not really hard to think about which one is right.
“I just made this worse, didn’t I?”
“I could have died happily not knowing… certain things,” she agrees.
“That’s an image that will never go away. Ever. It’s kind of up there with the thought that my new boyfriend wishes he could sleep with my old boyfriend.”
Ouch. For the both of us. “I had nothing to do with that,” I say quickly.
“You know that, right? I would never do anything with Creed. Otter would kick my ass.”
She arches an eyebrow. “And that’s the only reason?”
“And it’d be gross,” I add hastily.
“So you’re saying I have bad taste, then.”
“Wait, what? No! No. Creed is hot, I guess.” ( Ew.) “It’d just be weird because… you know, it’s Creed.”
“Oh, so now he’s hot, is he? Are you going to try and take him away from me? Can’t just let me be happy, can you? Maybe do the whole brothers thing Mrs. Paquinn was talking about?”
I start to sweat. “Jesus Christ, what the hell are you talking about?”
Anna bursts out laughing, a bright sound that’s loud and raucous. She’s always laughed big, and my heart flutters in my chest a bit, more at a memory than anything else. It’s nostalgia for nostalgia’s sake, because I haven’t heard her laugh like this in the longest time. That door is shut, but I can’t help but to jiggle the handle a bit, just to make sure. “I’m just messing with you,” she says with a giggle, wiping her eyes. “It’s so easy to do now, I just couldn’t resist.”
“Yeah, well, try harder in the future,” I mutter.
“What’s your first class? I’ll show you where it’s at.”
I mumble something.
“Sorry? Didn’t catch that.”
I clear my throat. “Psych 101.”
She bursts out laughing again. I swear to God she’s projecting.
AND I’m bored within the first ten minutes. Crap.
I knew going back to school was a big thing, but I guess I couldn’t remember just how much I hated it sitting in a desk, listening to someone drone on and on and on about something that I really don’t care about. I would probably consider walking out if I didn’t have the Kid’s voice in my head admonishing me for being a college dropout after only attending one class. You know I’d never hear the end of it.
I look around, studying the people in the room with me. I feel much more at ease when I see that it’s a mixture of younger and older, knowing I’m not sticking out like a sore thumb at the ripe old age of twenty-one. I didn’t know what to expect when I walked in today, whether everyone in the class would be fresh out of high school, but half the class is older than I am.
There’s someone that looks like he is around Mrs. Paquinn’s age.
Retirement must suck if he’s enrolled in a community college class.
