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I open my school email, clicking through the new messages about various campus events.
“…so hot, right?” A female voice says.
“I know,” another girl responds. “Even better in person. How is that possible?”
“He has huge hands. And feet.”
“That’s what you were looking at? I was focused on his face.”
I’m still looking at my phone screen but am shamelessly eavesdropping on the girls’ conversation because it’s more entertaining than reading about the library’s hours or which school the football team is playing in the season opener.
“Well, you know what they say…” A giggle. “I wonder if we’ll cover that theory in class.”
“I don’t care about the theory. I just want to see his dick in person.”
“Good luck, girl.”
My eyes are still on my phone, but I’m very tempted to look toward the voices behind me. The most scandalous thing I’d overheard in a lecture up until now was about petty drama with a roommate.
Maybe I’ve been sitting in the wrong spots.
Embarrassingly, I’ve often ended up seated in the front row. Most of my classes allow laptops, and it’s distracting seeing people in front of you shop for clothes or play games instead of taking notes on the lecture.
“God, can you imagine walking up toHolden Adamsand asking if you can see his dick? You know, for science?”
Both girls start laughing.
I freeze, realizing exactly who this conversation has been about.
Having no idea how to feel about it. Flattered? Annoyed?
Right now, I’m just uncomfortable.
I know Holden attracts female attention, obviously. And healwayshas. Back in elementary school, long before he’d kissed me or ignored me, he was the guy all the girls made paper Valentine’s Day hearts for. I used to tease him about it when we’d play basketball in his driveway, saying if everyone knew he lost to a girl, they wouldn’t still have crushes on him. Back before I identified the uncomfortable prick in my chest as jealousy.
Knowing is different from experiencing.
Before I can decide how to react—ifI should react—Christine slides into the seat beside me. She’s also pre-vet, so we’ve had nearly identical schedules since freshman year.
“Hey!” Her smile is bright and cheery as she settles into the chair.
“Hi!” I push away the awkwardness I’m experiencing and focus on Christine, watching as she unpacks her laptop and textbook from her backpack. “How was your summer?”
“It was great.” She sits up, tucking a piece of hair behind one ear. “How about yours?”
I tap my pen against my notebook. “Uh, yeah. It was okay. I worked at the shelter a lot.”
Christine is from Utah, so she’s never visited me in Pembrooke. But I’ve told her plenty about the animal shelter.
My last day there this summer was especially difficult since I had to say goodbye to Milo. I’m hoping he’ll still be there when Holden and I go back for the car wash. And also wish Milo finds a forever home sooner than then.
Christine and I continue catching up until the professor arrives. She just met with her academic advisor about vet school applications, which I’m supposed to do next week.
The course syllabi start circulating the room, and everyone settles down.
I stretch down and reach into the side pocket of my backpack for my water bottle, quickly glancing at the two girls sitting in the row behind me as I do. They’re both beautiful, with flawless makeup and styled hair.
I spent about five minutes on my appearance this morning. I left early to go to the library before my first lab. My hair is pulled back in a messy ponytail, I’m wearing no makeup, and my t-shirt is a boring white cotton one.
