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Piper
Sweat drips down my back,slicing a trail between my shoulder blades, eventually soaking into the band of my jeans. Brushing my hair away from my face, I pick up the pace, my boots clacking against the pavement as I swerve around groups of laughing students, confused freshmen, and professors casually making their way to their respective classrooms.
It's hot as blazes todayis all I can think as I finally reach my building, the cool air washing over me a welcome relief as I pull the door open and rush inside. Checking the clock on the wall, I note the time and head toward the stairs, forgoing the line at the elevators.
By the time I reach the third floor, I'm out of breath, my blouse is soaked through at the base of my back, and I'm wishing I had chosen more appropriate shoes.
Not that I expected to have to run clear across campus.
If I hadn't been so distracted the last few days, I might have noticed the room change that was not only posted on the class site, but also emailed to me. I wouldn't have shown up at Shaw Hall, fifteen minutes early, so I could get a good seat in the front of the room. I also wouldn't have wasted time by scrolling social media on my phone before checking my schedule for the remainder of the day.
Which just so happened to be when I noticed the room change.
It could have been worse. If I hadn't noticed at all, I wouldn't be walking in five minutes late to what I'm expecting will be my favorite class of the semester.
I'm a nutrition nerd. It's my passion in life. To learn how to make my favorite foods healthier. Whether that be through the cooking process or mixing up ingredients. I'm hoping that next year, I'll have a real kitchen to cook in so I can practice some of the recipes I've been working on.
The door to the classroom is already closed by the time I reach it. Cautiously, I peek through the window of the lecture hall and notice the professor isn't standing up front. Opening the door, I quickly duck inside and take the first available seat I spot. It's nowhere near the front of the room like I prefer. In fact, it's directly in the middle of the second to last row.
No sooner has my ass landed in the chair than a loud sound reverberates through the air, drawing my attention to the front left corner of the room. Standing next to a giant gong is a man who appears to be in his sixties or seventies. His hair is a dark gray with streaks of white that stand out against his olive-toned skin. There's a hint of a smile on his face as he sets aside the mallet and casually struts to the center of the room.
There's a small desk situated in front of a single folding chair. Leaning against the desk, he crosses his arms over his chest and glances around the room before launching into his speech.
"Good Morning and welcome back to Lake State. We'll start every class this semester with the striking of the gong. It's been said to be a very spiritual and healing sound. I like it because it has a dark timbre, and this early in the morning, it tends to wake up my students." A few students laugh, drawing out the professor’s full smile. "My name is David John. Yes, two first names. Because of this, most of my friends refer to me as DJ. You, however, may call me Professor John. We are not friends. We're not colleagues. I'm here to teach you what I know, and hopefully you're here to absorb all my wisdom."
Okay, I'm liking this guy already.
"Before we begin, I want you to turn to your neighbor and introduce yourself. This is the person you're going to rely on this semester. When an assignment calls for you to pair up, this is who you'll ask. Before the final exam, this is the person you'll be studying with. Because my tests are not considered conventional. Yes, you could learn by listening to me read to you from a book, but I prefer to take a more hands-on approach."
He nods at us before taking a seat.
Turning to my left is a curvy brunette who's already talking to the girl on the other side of her. Based on her body language, they know each other. Which means I'm stuck with the guy to my right.
Shifting in my seat, I slowly turn to find a pair of familiar mocha-colored eyes and devious smirk waiting to greet me. Sucking in a shallow breath, I let it out slowly as I force a smile.
This cannot be happening.
"Piper," he says, my name sounding like a prayer as it leaves his lips.
Or is that my imagination?
It's only been two days since I saw him last. It wasn't my finest moment, I have to admit. On a scale of one to ten, I'd rate that bad day a twelve. For multiple reasons.
First, I cried. A lot.
Second, he saw my vulnerable side. A side of myself I don't like to let anyone see.
The list could go on and on. In the end, it was a really bad day for me. I made it through, though. I put on my fake smile and lied to a lot of people. They all let me, for the most part. Everyone except Max.
And I haven't been able to shake my conversation with him.
"If I make you a drink,you have to promise not to cry. I don't do tears. Or emotions. Or any of that bullshit," Max states firmly, his face contorting as he reaches for a bottle of vodka.
"Sure," I mumble.
"I'm going to need more than that. I'm going to need you to say it, Piper. If you start crying, I'll probably make it worse. I won't do it on purpose, but it'll happen."
"I think I'm all cried out, Max. I don't have the energy to shed another tear."
