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Honestly, I have no idea if I’ll even be back after I’ve gotten that book.
An unexpected sense of loss filters through my chest. Between Ali and Ryan, I’ve had moments where I felt like a regular college student, no worries, living in the moment, having fun, making friends. If only it were true, but a normal life, friends—these things have never been mine.
“Thank you for telling me.” She lifts her chin, giving me an almost-smile. “I’d assumed we’d be together all year.”
“Yeah, so, I guess it makes me feel like,” I look around the sparsely decorated room, “I’ve got one foot out the door.”
Ali smiles for real at that, placing her hand on top of mine on her shoulder. “You’ve been through so much, it’s classic self-preservation. But even if it’s only for a few months, we can still be friends. You don’t have to be alone, Re-re.”
She’s so positive and upbeat, I can’t find it in me to rain on her parade—or ask her to stop calling me Re-re,jeez. “You’re going to make a really great therapist.”
“Dream expert!”
“Right! Dream expert.” I shake my head and give her arm a nudge. “How about we get some coffee and head to class? And tonight, we can meet up at the Den for afriendlybeer.”
Looping her arm through mine, she nods. “You’re on, friend!”
We enter the psychology building twenty minutes later, coffees in hand, and students filter past us quickly running to their classes before the ten-minute cutoff.
Ali glances up at the entrance to Dirk’s class. “It’s so unfair you get to spend two mornings a week with Professor Panty-dropper, and I’m stuck with Professor… Poindexter.”
I snort a laugh then yelp, holding a hand in front of my face. “You almost made me send coffee through my nose!”
She snorts, and we lean closer laughing. It feels so good, so real. My disturbing dream from last night and exhaustion are stored neatly away in their little boxes in my mind, the way they have to be for me to survive.
“It’s true, though!” she cries.
“It’s not too late for you to change your schedule. I think we have one more week to drop or add classes.”
“Maybe next semester,” she sighs, glancing past me as I pull the door open. “Mmm… That man is too hot to be real.”
“Gotta go,” I whisper, giving her a wave. “See you at the Den at five.”
She waves, then I turn to see Dirk in the front of the class, glasses in place. Today he’s wearing a brown blazer over a white tee with those jeans. His dark hair is slightly damp on the ends as if he came straight from the shower, and he’s reading something on his phone. The muscle in his square jaw moves, and he simply exudes sexy.
I want to get close and sniff his clean scent, but Evan makes a noise to get my attention. Lifting my chin, I smile, climbing the risers to sit beside him in the middle of the small auditorium.
“Was that Ali with you?” he asks.
“Yeah,” I whisper, but our conversation is cut off when Dirk begins to speak.
“Sharon is returning your graded assignments.” The annoying grad student is making her way up and down the aisles handing out papers. “Overall, it was a good effort for a first writing assignment.”
Dirk’s eyes meet mine, and heat blooms in my stomach. I lift my stylus to my lips, parting them slowly, and his brow furrows.
He turns to the other side of the room. “I made notes I hope will be helpful going forward. As always, you’re welcome to stop by my office during office hours if you have questions.”
I hear a few groans behind me, but when my print-out is placed on my desk, a bright redAis on the first page. Unexpected pride surges in my chest, and I bite my lip against the huge smile trying to split my cheeks.
Glancing up, our eyes meet again as if drawn by an invisible force, and he gives me the slightest hint of a smile. Another wave of happiness floods through me. It’s completely unwarranted and honestly ridiculous for me to feel so happy about a grade.
It doesn’t matter how I do in this class. It’s all fake. It would actually be better if I did poorly so I would need more assistance from Professor Winston. As it is, I’m giddy over anA.
I’ve got to get my head straight.
“Today, we’ll discuss the effect of psychosocial factors on brain function, so I hope you finished the reading on the Bobo doll experiment…” He continues speaking, but my mind drifts to after class.
Thanks to my brilliant performance, I don’t need help. Turning my stylus in my hand, I filter through the possibilities as Dirk continues his lecture.
