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But still.
I watched a man be murdered mere feet from me. My mom died in a house fire brought on by retaliation for my “sins.” My best friend and his father died in a burning inferno. I wouldn’t be the cause for any more deaths or violence.
“Look, t-shirts,” I pointed out and headed toward the tent with the free t-shirt banner. If you signed up for a credit card, you got a free t-shirt. Nic and I each picked up a clipboard and began to fill the forms out. I did this last summer before the start of the fall semester and obtained a student credit card with a thousand-dollar limit. I ended up using it for books and supplies and then paid it off during the semester. That way I didn’t have to dip into too much of the summer job savings. After we turned in the clipboard, we were given our choice of shirts. I immediately picked the gray one that said USC Trojans on it, but Nic took his time choosing.
“Which one do you think Rami would like?” he asked.
“Maybe the red one with the cartoon-looking mascot,” I suggested. Nic selected that shirt and got it in a small for Rami. While he waited for the girl to find the shirt, I started to feel sick inside. Rami would most likely never have the chance to go to college.
“Dude, I could spend the whole day here,” Nic said as he appeared beside me.
We put the t-shirts in the empty backpack I’d brought for my books and then kept moving. As we neared the bookstore, the tents and tables that were set up began to change from fun and games to academics. Just about all of the departments had tables, booths, or tents that were staffed by professors. There were lots of students gathered at the tables, asking questions about classes and supplies.
Nic and I stopped by one of the tables for the math department since I was taking calculus this semester. As I glanced at the table, I saw they had a drawing for one of those expensive calculators. I rented one for fifty bucks a semester, but it would be nice to have my own. I filled out the entry form and dropped it in the box. I met the professor I would have for calculus and spoke with him for a few minutes. He seemed really nice and gave me his card with all of his contact info on it along with office hours. All of the math professors were handing out USC logo math packets that were shrink wrapped and included a folder, spiral notebook, pencil, and a protractor and compass set. Fuck yeah!
“Score, man,” Nic said as we walked away from the math tent. “Want me to put it in your backpack?”
“Yeah, thanks.” I stopped walking so Nic could unzip my backpack and drop the supplies in. “That’s probably ten or fifteen dollars’ worth of stuff that I don’t have to buy,” I commented. I opened up my phone and checked my supply list for calculus. I just needed the textbook now.
“We should find the tents for the other classes you have. Who knows, they might be giving stuff away too,” Nic suggested. I agreed with him. Since money was so tight, if I didn’t have to buy something, the better off I’d be.
I met my Technical English professor as well. As she handed me her card with contact info, she offered me a USC composition book and folder, which I gratefully accepted. She told me that if I had a certain university app on my phone, and if I didn’t mind a small screen, that I could download the textbook for five dollars with a coupon code. I folded up the coupon and stuck it in my wallet.
Within a minute of leaving the English department’s table, I felt relieved about the savings for the textbook and supplies so far. I got a whiff of overpowering cologne from someone who was walking in the opposite direction, and my stomach lurched. I stopped walking and turned to see if I could spot who was wearing it.
The scent of that cologne had an instant negative effect on my body and mind. In high school there was a jock who was an absolute dick and bullied kids for just about anything. He was the one exception to my experience of everyone being accepting and welcoming. I wasn’t immune to his torment.
He knew nothing about me, but still found something to ridicule me over. No matter how much I worked on speaking slowly so my accent didn’t come through, I still had a trace of it with certain words. He teased me for sounding “dumb.” He often made comments about my clothes or tattered backpack. He thoroughly enjoyed the fact that he could tease me about being on the free school lunch program. He was an asshole, and I didn’t even think the kids on the football team liked him. The only thing he had going for him was that he could play football. He back talked teachers, staff, and just about anyone else he passed in the hall or sat by in class. He smelled like he was doused in cologne, and I was so glad when I graduated so I wouldn’t have to see him ever again. But there he was, walking a few feet away from me.
Preston Pohl.
“Fuck. Seriously?” I said under my breath as I stared at the back of his head with the square-looking buzz cut.
“What?” Nic asked.
“Nothing.” I didn’t want to talk about it with Nic. “That guy smelled like he was drenched in cologne.”
“Gross. Probably to cover up his body odor,” Nic said as we continued to walk. “Okay, we just need to find the science booth, right?”
“Yeah. We’ve met my Calculus and Technical English professors.”
“The Tech English professor was banging. I’d tap that and take whatever the fuck she taught,” Nic joked.
As we approached the booth, I skimmed the group of professors who stood behind the tables. Like the professors at the other academic booths, they all wore USC shirts of some sort. A few had on t-shirts, while others wore polos. I sighed as soon as I heard Professor Grant’s voice. Wearing jeans and a black polo with the USC logo over his chest, he spoke to a few students. I noticed the black polo made the black in his salt and pepper hair seem more prominent than the white. He usually wore long-sleeved, button-down shirts and slacks to class. The arm bands of the shirt hugged his biceps and chest muscles. Since he usually wore long-sleeves, I didn’t think I’d ever noticed how fit he was. Him wearing jeans and a polo, that was trendily tucked in a little in the front, caught me off guard. For whatever reason, I allowed my eyes to drift downward and trace the outline of his bulge.
Fuck! What the hell was I doing sizing up Lucas Grant?
I quickly picked up a flier for the Molecular Biology class and double checked the supply list hadn’t changed and that it was the same as on my phone. I was too bothered by my ogling of Grant to concentrate on the info on the flier. Internally, I reminded myself of what happened back in Lithuania and why I didn’t need to allow myself to ever be interested in anyone. Especially, Professor Lucas Grant. While I was chastising myself, Nic’s interest in something caught my attention.
“Hey, check it out, Justin,” he murmured and pointed to the yellow flier.
Paid internship.
I stretched my arm out in front of Nic and picked up the flier. Quickly, I scanned the bullet points of information.
-Earn while you learn. Get hands-on training as you assist lab techs in one of our two labs. Learn safety, basic lab procedures, as well as lab testing from the lab tech you’re assigned to.
-$20 an hour for 10-15 hours per week.
