Starting Position

Chapter 9

When the sixteenth week arrived, longer days did too. It was Wednesday morning, and the sun was floating above the horizon, lighting my drive to class. I sat inside my idling car in the campus parking lot, letting the sun beat through the windows. The beaming rays shot straight through my multiple layers of clothing and warmed the skin beneath. It was as though I hadn't felt sunlight in months.

Lifespan Psychology was my first class, which I happened to share with Cambrie. I usually waited for her by the small café inside the main building so we could walk together. She was almost always running late, but somehow still found time to order a nonfat caramel macchiato before our class. Checking my watch, the minute hand crept closer to the hour, and I contemplated buying Cambrie her coffee so as to save time. Just as I stepped near the cashier and dug around in my bag for my wallet, someone approached. It wasn't Cambrie.

"Hey, Ell."

My skin crawled.

"Hi," I grumbled, keeping my gaze on my wallet, which I had found but hesitated to pull it out; I wanted to stall contact with the person standing behind me for as long as possible.

"What are you looking for?" Tyson asked, his voice way too close for comfort.

I didn't respond, hopeful it would cause him to disappear. 

I felt a hand jab my shoulder. "You ignoring me or something?" Tyson asked.

I stopped pretending to search for my wallet. His touch made me queasy, and though I had never been one to enjoy being touched, I knew there was a deeper rooted reason for my disgust. Tyson's touch did not leave the tingly feeling Ben's had. I quickly cast that notion aside. 

"No. Just looking for my wallet," I answered and finally withdrew it. I then glanced up and found the massive form of Tyson, who was gazing at me curiously. I had been able to dodge him quite successfully so far this semester, but I was quickly realizing with our increasing time apart, the moments I did have to share with him were becoming more difficult to bear. It was almost like he was trying to make up for lost time, and I, not being around him as frequently, was more sensitive to his general repulsiveness. I considered it might be easier to be around him full time.

As if reading my mind, Tyson said, "Haven't seen you much this semester?"

"– Uh, excuse me," the barista behind the counter piped in, "Can I – uh – take your order?"

I wanted to hug him. I nodded my head eagerly, stepped closer to the counter, and ordered Cambrie's signature morning beverage.

"Sure," the barista said, punching a series of keys into the register, and then added, "anything else?"

Yes, I thought, keep talking so I can avoid the person behind me.

Instead, I shook my head to decline and handed over a small bill. The barista then got to work on the coffee, and I forced myself to turn around and face my fate.

"You weren't at Dillon's party last weekend," said Tyson casually.

"I was busy." I was actually shut inside my room reading Persuasion, my favorite Jane Austen novel, and while I considered this a perfectly plausible excuse for being busy, I doubted Tyson would, and thus kept the detail to myself.

"Well, he's having one this weekend too. You should come. It'd be like the old days."

I was about to respond with a noncommittal "maybe," but held it to myself, because, at that very moment, Ben caught my eye. He was wearing his usual baseball hat and a long sleeve t-shirt. He was just approaching Tyson's line of sight, which was all it took for Tyson to lose focus of everything else.