Shutout (Rules of the Game, #2)(21)
CIRCUMSTANTIAL EVIDENCE
SERAPHINA
I’ve almost survived my first day of classes.
This includes successfully navigating a new campus even though my courses are not-so-conveniently located around the outer boundaries of Boyd. Staying on-schedule without getting lost may not sound like an impressive feat to most people, but thanks to the ADHD symptom lottery, I’m both directionally challenged and prone to time-blindness so I’m calling it a win.
Fueled by an infatuation high, I practically skip across campus to my last lecture of the day, my first session of Introduction to Creative Writing. Tyler and I have worked up to question fourteen and our conversation shows no sign of stopping anytime soon. Despite the name of the game, I’m pretty sure we’ll keep going past twenty-one.
I make a last-minute stop at the campus Starbucks en route, and while I’m not late, I’m not as early as I’d like when I arrive. The seats are already partially filled up, students scattered around the room. Obviously, I don’t know a single soul, so I scan the lecture hall in search of someone who looks friendly. I settle on a brunette in the middle row who’s rocking a cute oversized plaid jacket. Can’t explain why, I just get a good vibe from her.
She flashes me a small smile as I take the seat on her left. Setting my decaf mocha off to the side, I quickly unpack my things from the black hole otherwise known as my bag. Judging by her array of colored pens and pencils and sticky notes, my seatmate is significantly more organized than I am.
Our instructor introduces herself as Professor Durand but insists we call her Maxine. I listen, rapt with attention as she tells us about her publishing career in fiction and non-fiction as well as the various publications she’s written for, ranging from Vogue to The New Yorker. In addition to magazines, she’s been featured in numerous anthologies and has several traditionally published books of poetry. I make a note to check those out later.
It’s legitimately fascinating, and for the first time in my life, I don’t catch myself zoning out during class even once. This feeling is what I’d hoped college would be like all along. That thirst for knowledge, the excitement to learn more. I’d all but given up on finding anything that genuinely interested me.
Maxine dismisses us a few minutes early and instructs us to introduce ourselves to our classmates with the extra time, explaining that we’ll be doing some partner work for peer editing in the near future. The prospect of showing someone else my writing—let alone having them critique it—sounds more than a little terrifying, but I guess it’s what I signed up for.
Turning to me, the dark-haired girl offers me a shy smile. “I’m Chloe.”
“Seraphina. Sera’s fine, too.” Or Tink, if you’re Tyler. Shut up, brain. Now isn’t the time.
“How are you liking class so far? Isn’t she amazing?” Chloe nods to the front of the room, where Maxine is sliding her lecture notes into a Louis Vuitton tote. “My friend took this class last year and raved about her.”
“Totally,” I agree. “She reminds me of Sylvie from Emily in Paris, only a lot less passive aggressive and significantly nicer.”
She laughs, placing her pastel highlighters into a zippered case. “Oh my god, you’re right. Are you a creative writing major?”
Until recently, I hadn’t realized that was an option. I’ve been considering it as a serious possibility, but it’s too early to say just yet. I’m not sure I’ll even like this class.
“Undeclared but trying to decide soon. How about you?”
“Pre-dentistry.”
“Wow. That sounds intense. Good for you.” Suddenly, I feel woefully outmatched. Bet that’s heavy on science. Probably lots of math, too. I wouldn’t last a day.
“It’s pretty demanding,” Chloe admits, zipping her black book bag. “This is my one and only fun class. The rest are biology, calculus, that kind of thing.”
She pushes to stand, and I do the same, leisurely walking alongside her up the staircase leading to the doors. Since this is my last class of the day, I don’t need to sprint across campus like I otherwise would. It’s like the fates conspired to ensure I hit my 10,000 steps a day before noon.
We linger in the foyer chatting for a few more minutes before we exchange phone numbers, then Chloe heads to her next lecture while I start for the parking lot outside. It feels nice to have a new potential friend; someone not connected to Abby or my brother. Actually, it’s not all that different from what I assume dating is like—I’m a little nervous and wondering whether she actually wants to hang out with me sometime or if she was merely being polite.
Either way, for a Monday, today is shaping up better than I expected. Even the weather doesn’t seem as bad as I push the doors open and brave the bitter January cold. My gigantic new parka probably helps, too.
When I climb into the driver’s seat, Tyler texts me again.
Hades: Question 14: What book are you currently reading?
Tinker Bell: I plead the fifth.
Hades: attachment: voice message
“Nice try, but that’s not a real answer. Cough up the title, Tinker Bell.”