Candy Hearts | Watty's 2015

| 18 | Tuesday, September 1

|  1 8  | Tuesday, September 1

            Arizona is ten minutes early to Psychology. It’s her first day and she would very much rather be early than late. She has two today, and this first one starts at eight in the morning, though her first one tomorrow begins at noon. She’d been forced to get up early, and she’d thankfully had enough time to get a coffee on the way, from a cute, cheap place called Teacup that Ha-Young had told her about.

            It’s a cold morning, and the wisps of smoke curling off the top of the paper cup clasped between her hands blow away as quickly as they rise. Sniffling, Arizona pulls the door to the building open, and finds a hall smaller than she had expected, with eleven rows of folded seats curling around the room. There are already a few people strewn about the chairs, the few that know each other conversing in low tones, some freshmen uncertainly organizing their materials once and then again, the odd one sleeping in a corner. Arizona sits down in a seat near the center of the chairs, setting her bag down by her legs and pushing her glasses back up her nose. They help her see, help her look smart, and help her feel smart.

            A girl with crazy, black curls sits down and Arizona bites her lip before opening her mouth. “Heather?” She’s unsure whether it’s really her, or not, but when the girl turns around, Arizona lets out a small breath and smiles. “It is you.”

            “Hey! Hold on, let me move.” She proceeds to grab all her things in her arms, just barely carrying them the short distance to the seat next to Arizona. Heather plops down in the chair with a grin. “I was so scared I’d be alone. Why are you taking Psych?”

            “Therapist.”

            “Oooh, that sounds fun. I don’t know what I’m doing, yet. Probably doctor, or a nurse. I mean, I want to write, but my mom would kill me if I majored in anything not even slightly related to math or science.” Arizona laughs, nodding in agreement. It’s scary how relevant that sentence is to her life.

            Suddenly, a cup slams down on the desk next to her. No one but Jacob sits down next to her, and he sits down as if there’s a thousand pounds weighing down on him. She can hear music blaring through the headphones covering his ears, and he looks tired, with violet skin under his eyes that might have been there before, but had gone unnoticed, if so. He rubs at his eyes and reclines back in the chair, looking like he is trying very hard to keep his eyes open. Arizona raises her eyebrows, first because Jacob is in her first freaking class—and she is so not happy with her luck, right now—and second because he looks like death.

            “You look like death,” says Arizona, if a bit hesitantly. She’s not sure whether it’s okay to talk to him, yet, especially since the last time she’d seen him, he’d called her Arizona without the May. But, seeing as he’d taken the liberty to sit down next to her, she’s taking the liberty to say something that could go two completely different routes.

            “So I’ve been told,” he mutters, pulling his headphones over his head and shoving it in his bag, and Arizona remembers that boys are kind of the complete opposite of girls, and don’t think much of the things she thinks too much of. Heather silently watches from beside Arizona. Jacob drains the rest of his coffee in the next few seconds, tilting his head way back to get the last drop, before he peers down, through the hole. Cursing, he sets it down at the corner of the table, and rests his chin on his palm, elbow on desk.

            “You alright?” asks Arizona.

            “Fine. I just really fucking hate mornings, and now I realize that I may have really taken my break year for granted. And I should really start buying large coffees.” He stares bitterly at his empty, white cup. Arizona looks at him for a few more seconds, unsure what exactly she should say in this moment. He does it for her, running a hand throug his already mussed-up hair with a sigh, and tilting his head to face the girls. Jacob smiles at Heather. “And, I’m Jacob.”