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My Journalismand Publications class was the one I was least looking forward to. I didn’t want to create a newspaper. I wanted to design curriculums for school districts.
My professor was late, and already this class felt like a waste of time. I couldn’t wait to go home and nap. It wasn’t even noon, and I was exhausted after Opening Weekend.
Katie and I had done the usual bar hopping. We weaved through Nate and Wally’s, Bar 149, City Tap, The Attic, Tiki Bar, and then ended with Brathaus. My liver needed at least a twenty-four-hour break.
I scanned the room for an open seat. Everyone knew that the seat you chose for the first day of classes would be your seat for the rest of the semester. It was just an unspoken way of life in college.
Then, as my focus moved to one of the middle rows, I saw him. At first, I didn’t recognize him without the black snapback. His hair was shorter since we spoke at Myles. But the closer I got to the table, I was positive it was the same guy.
He was busy texting when I took the empty seat beside him. I placed my bookbag next to the table and snuck a glance in his direction to see if he even noticed that someone was sitting next to him. He didn’t.
I placed my iPhone on the table and leaned back in my chair. “I almost didn’t recognize you without that hat on.”
He looked up and set his phone down. In return, he narrowed a set of dark green eyes at me, and a slight smirk crept up in the corner of his lips.
I could tell he had no idea who I was. “You gave me your Blizzard,” I added.
“You look different.” He smiled and returned to his phone. His fingers were on it the moment the screen lit up. A guy like him had to have all kinds of numbers in his notifications every day.
“I might as well look decent now while I have the effort in me.”
“You’re just going to assume that different means better, huh?”
He caught me off guard, and my mouth dropped. His laughter was so contagious that a few girls behind us laughed even though they had no idea what was happening.
“I’m just playin’,” he said. “I recognize you now that I’m looking at you. It’s your eyes.”
I went with a basic introduction since I had no idea what to say back. “I’m Maci.”
“Jaxon.”
Before I could say anything else, the professor introduced herself. I spent the next hour and a half thinking of another question to ask Jaxon. I barely remembered anything from the lecture.
* * *
We were givenour first assignment. The professor wanted us to work with our table partners to develop a mock article about something surrounding BGSU by Thursday.
Journalism and Publications was also Jaxon’s last class, so when he saw I was going to The Union, he followed me to Jamba Juice. I was starving, but I knew that Katie was preparing something delicious in her crockpot, and I didn’t want to spoil my appetite. If there was one item Katie Addiman knew about, it was food.
I ordered a smoothie and stepped aside so Jaxon could go next. “On me,” I prompted. “I owe you a drink, remember?”
He scanned the menu for a few seconds before his eyes landed on mine. “Get me whatever you got.” He grinned.
His smile was consuming, and how powerless I felt when controlling my expressions was borderline pathetic. I smiled back and slid my debit card across the counter.
Jaxon filled the silence effortlessly between us. While we waited for our smoothies, he took it upon himself to put his number in my phone. He then explained how every important contact in someone’s phone should have an emoji that describes them.
Since we were partners for Thursday’s assignment, I decided not to focus too much on his direct approach. I wasn’t expecting him to follow me after class, but I wasn’t upset that he did.
Being with him in such a crowded space felt a little weird. I kept waiting for him to see someone else that he knew so he could take off. Every girl who passed us checked him out or smiled at him. I didn’t know anything about Jaxon, but I knew I wasn’t the only one who thought he was pretty.
I felt his eyes on me as I scrolled through my emoji options. He grabbed our smoothies from the counter and handed me my drink. I waited to see if he would walk in the opposite direction, but instead, he followed me out the side doors of The Union that led toward the parking lot. My thumb hovered over the side-eyes emoji, and I heard a gasp.
“You can’t stick me with the creepy side-eyes emoji.” Jaxon struggled to open his straw wrapper one-handed. He was attempting to text, walk and drink at the same time. It was clear he hadn’t won a gold star in multitasking.
I sighed and snatched the straw from his hand. He stifled a grin when I undid the plastic and stuck it in the lid of his drink.
“Okay, well, what emoji are you putting next to my name?” I took a sip of my strawberry banana smoothie and glanced at him. If he thought the side-eyes emoji didn’t suit him even though we had officially met less than two hours ago, I had no idea what to expect mine to be.
