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“Thank you very much,” Deep said, doing her best to sound grateful and not like she had about a six-pack of Rainier in her at this very moment. Pressing the end call button, she sighed and leaned against the wall, letting herself slowly sink to the floor.
She’d gotten all dressed up on the off chance Ali would be at the party. And he was. With another girl. Instead, she’d spent midnight kissing all of her friends and pretending the fact that she’d played stupid in Conservation Biology just so he wouldn’t figure out that a) she didn’t need help, and b) even if she did, he certainly wasn’t the one to be helpful, stung like cheap tequila without a chaser. Last time she’d ever do that. This year was officially going to be about her and only her.
Deep sunk to the floor outside of her room, resting her head on her knees as she attempted to get comfortable and wait. She wished she’d been bright enough to bring a hair tie. Instead, she’d be spending New Year’s Day deep conditioning and trying to untangle two feet of hair that—
“Do you need help?” A voice pulled Deep out of her wallowing. Squinting up at the speaker, she appraised the pale guy with frizzy hair standing in front of her. He was maybe two inches taller than her, wearing a UW sweatshirt and wrinkled khakis. His expression held no judgment. If anything, his forehead wrinkled in genuine concern. Deep sighed.
“I do. Sadly, campus security is not in a rush to give it to me.”
“Ah. Locked yourself out?” He nodded like this was an experience he knew well.
“Unfortunately.”
“Do you want some company? We can wait in my room if you want.” Deep opened her mouth to say she was fine sitting her crumpled in a ball when he added, “It’s not much nicer than this, but it does have chairs.”
Now that she was looking at him, like really looking, not checking to see if she was being fucked with, she was pretty sure she’d seen him around before. “I know you from somewhere…”
“We live in the same building.” The guy shrugged and looked at Deep like maybe she was a little stupid for not putting that together.
“No shit. I meant, somewhere else.” Maybe it was the fact that it was 1:30 in the morning, or that the liquor was wearing off a little too quickly, but being treated like she was stupid was especially irritating to her right now. She wracked her brain until the answer she was looking for came to her. “I know! You are the guy who sits in front of my Analytic Geometry class and shouts the answers whenever no one wants to raise their hand.”
“I’m Tim.” His checks started to turn pink, and he looked down at the floor directly in front of her white combat boots. “I’ve been told by Professor Kleinman that my enthusiasm is overkill, but it’s always good to have a data point confirmed by a secondary source.”
“I mean, it’s only overkill if anyone else actually wanted to answer those questions at 8 a.m. on a Friday morning.”
Tim’s face turned even more red. “Right. I’ll stop doing that then.” He looked up at her and cleared his throat. Gesturing down the hallway, he said, “I’m gonna go now.”
He started down the hallway, and it dawned on Deep that he might have thought she honestly wanted to answer those questions. Tim was an odd dude, but she couldn’t just let him think she was that kind of snarky science nerd. Not when she’d literally like to get as far away from those people as humanly possible.
“Hey. Wait!” Deep called before she could talk herself out of it. “I’m Deep.”
“I know.” Tim brushed off the introduction and fitted his key into the stairwell door, giving Deep pause. He must have realized the response was weird, because he added, “You and your friends make a lot of noise when you come home, and my window is right above the entrance on the third floor.”
“Any chance you’d still let me wait in your room?”
Tim shrugged in agreement, and she got up to follow him to the door.
Well, this was officially the most awkward silence. With her luck, this guy would probably have academic excellence and discipline posters all over his room. Either that or posters about chastity and temperance. Maybe all four if she was really unlucky. Scanning the stairwell for something to talk about that wasn’t, ‘What level of weirdo am I about to walk into?’ Deep decided to clear the air with some, hopefully, less awkward small talk.
“For the record, I don’t care if you answer those questions. I don’t think anyone besides Professor Kleinman does. Frankly, if I had a choice, I’d be anywhere else at 8 a.m.”
“Why? Are you struggling?” Tim asked this as if it had never occurred to him that someone wouldn’t want to think about complex geometry problems that early.
“Not yet. I just don’t want to be a biology major anymore.”
“Oh.” Tim nodded as they exited the stairwell, a line forming between his eyebrows as he thought about her answer. He stopped and fussed with the lock for a moment, before pushing the door open.
A small part of Deep relaxed as she walked into the room. As Tim popped his takeout box in a mini fridge, she did a quick inventory. No misogynistic, half-naked people posing on beaches, or strange pictures of kittens climbing mountains, although there was a poster of Berlin. Clearly, he was into red luxury cars, given the poster of a fast-looking Ferrari and the vintage car wall calendar. If anything, they made him seem less nerdy, and, well, more normal.
“Want one?” Tim asked, pulling Deep’s attention from his made—albeit messily constructed—bed. Deep looked down at the can in his hand and smiled. She’d expected a cheap beer, but instead, it was Mountain Dew. Something about the gesture was so pure that it delighted her. This guy really didn’t have an agenda other than her sitting.
“Thanks.” She dropped into Tim’s desk chair and pulled the tab on the can, enjoying the satisfying hiss of carbonation mixed with too much caffeine for anyone to drink after midnight.
Tim smiled. It was corked and shy, like he’d just realized there was a girl in his room. Taking a satisfying slurp of his own can, he jumped up onto his lofted bed. For a minute, they just sat in silence as Deep tried to think of anything she knew about cars or Berlin to talk about. She was just about to give up and go for the old, ‘Where are you from?’ when Tim jumped in.
“Okay, I know this isn’t really my business, but why don’t you want to be a biology major?”
Deep eyed him, debating if she wanted to give him the honest answer or if she should say she didn’t want to pay for a Ph.D. It was easier than trying to explain why she didn’t want to do something practical that she was good at when she graduated. But Tim had surprised her so far. Why shouldn’t she give him a chance?
