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1
ELIZA
When I parked in the eight-story parking garage, I immediately felt out of place. My dented and beat-up Honda stuck out like a sore thumb, and I couldn’t help but feel like it was an omen for the semester. Or for the next few years here. I straightened my jacket and made my way to the courtyard, my class schedule on my phone. The campus was a strange mix of old architecture with new buildings crowding the edges. I gave myself enough time to get slightly lost. The numbers were sure to be all backward. And I was right.Why the hell is classroom 304 on the fourth floor?When I finally stumbled into the giant lecture hall, a thousand eyes met me in the doorway.
“Sorry,” I mumbled, making a beeline for the first open seat. It was in the second row, and I had to squeeze past a few students who refused to move, their gazes fixated on the professor standing in the front.
“Miss?” the professor asked.
I groaned inwardly. “Yes?” I said through gritted teeth, digging in my backpack for my Chromebook. It only took a quick glance around me before opting not to pull it out. Brand new shiny MacBooks surrounded me, and I just didn’t need another reason for people to stare. I thought a class this size would have afforded some power of invisibility.Wrong.
“I do not accept tardies in this class. As I just finished explaining,” the round man gestured to the hall. There were probably fifty students seated in the built-in desks in the auditorium-style arrangement. “I expect attendance, and I dole out participation points to push the point. It is worth fifteen percent of your grade and being late makes you lose them all for the day.”
I nodded. “I’m aware.”
The professor raised his eyebrows and his lips pinched together.
Shit. I contemplated standing and leaving just as quickly as I had entered. Hell, I would not be getting these stupid participation points today anyway. Then I thought of the tight-lipped glare I’d be getting from Miss Shayna and opted to stay put. Not much was worth pissing Miss Shayna off and this professor with an over-inflated ego was not a good enough reason.
“I read the syllabus,” I explained.
“I haven’t posted the syllabus yet,” the professor countered.What is his name? Moony? Mutter? Mosley?
“No, but a past student linked it on the Rate My Professor’s site. Figured it wouldn’t have changed.”Shut up, Eliza, just shut up.
“And why would you think that?” He crossed his arms over his chest, straightening. Defensive. He jutted his chin out and puffed up his chest and he looked like a toddler trying to intimidate his mommy into letting him stay up late.
I suddenly wished I had sat a few rows higher, so I would have had the pleasure of looking down on him. “There was a reason they posted it on Rate My Professor. Do you really want me to elaborate?”Miss Shayna is gonna kill me.
“Please do,” he said.
Fuck it.“The reviews in your class were fairly favorable. A solid B rating, not too shabby.”Reel in the sarcasm, Eliza. Or just shut up.“The primary note was how your class runs like a well-oiled machine. Repetitive, so much so that essay recycling was encouraged. Several students also noted that, despite the course title, if students stay on the side you favor for arguments, the class will be a breeze. Ironic, right? Anyway, some past students posted the syllabus in case anyone wanted to search their backlog of past essays they could use for your assignments.”
I suddenly wished I had gum in my mouth so I could shatter the silence of the classroom with a satisfyingpopof a bubble.
“I can assure you that this isnotthe case for this class.Ethics of Argumentis a meticulous and carefully constructed class, each year changing to follow current events. To suggest otherwise is a gross underestimation of the course and I would caution against taking such a lackadaisical approach to this.”
There were a few nods through the class and the sound of rustling sheets of paper and typing.
“Am I clear, Miss?” he asked.
“Oh, of course, I’m curious what the new syllabus will show then.” I knew it was going to be the same, verbatim, and I was more than excited to watch him squirm just a little.Leave it, Eliza. Be invisible.
He went back to lecturing, taking control once again, and I finally caved and pulled out my Chromebook. It whirred to life, and I got a few stares but I was used to it. I hated that I sometimes cared what people thought of me.
I scanned a few emails from that morning and clicked open the online portal for the college. It took me a minute to figure out how to navigate the site but in only a few moments I had the syllabus up, an exact copy of the one posted on the Rate My Professor site, four years ago.
The class would be a breeze, especially if I took the advice of past students and got to know the lovely professor’s political ideology, religion, and views on social issues. I scanned the class; I didn’t expect to know people, but there were several faces I recognized. A few people I knew, and a girl I had known well, at one point. The curse of college being so close to your hometown.
Karina sat on the opposite side, a few rows up, her fingers flying over the keyboard. She and I used to be close. We were part of a trio, Karina, Rosalie, and Eliza. Close through middle school until my sophomore year of high school.
If Karina had just dropped off and we drifted apart, I could respect that, I could understand. Hell, I had let friends fall away too. People changed, no big deal. But she fucked me over and I’m still paying for what she did. I chewed on my lip and continued to watch her frantic typing, hoping she’d raise her head and make eye contact with me. I wanted to watch her face pale when she saw me; I wanted her to get anxious that we were in the same room.
But when she finally looked up, she smiled at me.Fucking smiled.
I flicked my eyes back to my screen. It was cracked on one side and had clear tape holding the corner piece on. I opened my emails and sent a quick one to Miss Shayna.
Made it to class. Only a minute late. Thought you should know ;)
