Saving Grayson

Chapter 8

The rest of the week went well, but Fridays were officially the days I'd dread. After Friday comes Saturday then Sunday which means weekends are going to be filled with homework. And when there's homework, that means there's barely going to be anytime for me to do anything I want to do. Weekends are going to feel like the mandated fifteen-minute breaks I'd have at work. But it's only the first week and the workload is light enough to where I can get everything done today. Tomorrow and Sunday are going to be relaxation days.

Classes went okay for the remainder of the week. I was settling into a routine, and I almost had my schedule memorized. I knew it would take another week of school for it to be one hundred percent instilled in my head. Another week before I feel more comfortable with the routine I have. Get myself ready for the day, eat breakfast if I feel up to it, head to class, do homework in between classes and hope that I'll have majority of it done by the time freshman seminar is over. More homework, dinner and prepare for dinner.

Grayson didn't sit next to me Wednesday, and he was absent today. Something about him seemed off. Just like on Monday, Wednesday he wore a hood like he was trying to hide from the world. But how could someone want to hide a face so beautiful as his? Not saying that I think he's attractive which I do because I find everyone attractive in their own way, but why hide it?

And then just like on Monday, on Wednesday he left like he was in a rush. I suspected it would be because he has another class after freshman seminar, but I don't want to make any assumptions. But it was odd. I had wanted to text him to see if he was okay, especially because he was absent today and I haven't heard from him yet. Not that I was expecting a text or a call. If he didn't want to be my partner in learning or whatever Marie wants us to call it, then that's okay with me. We barely know each other so I wouldn't take it personal.

But what if everything is fine and I'm reading too much into it as usual? My father said that I tend to overthink, and things aren't always as bad as they really are.

The door unlocked and Monica came into the room with a smile plastered on her face, inviting me to a small get together she had been invited to. It's only the first week and people are throwing parties.

"I don't know," I answered. "I kind of wanted to get my homework done tonight. And besides, how little is this little get together?"

"Just a few people I promise."

"Will there be alcohol?"

She shrugged. "Most likely. It is college after all."

"Then I'm not going," and I turned my attention back to the screen.

"Come on, don't be a party pooper. We should go just to celebrate getting through the first week of school. The first week of freshman year at that."

"You're still not convincing me," I spun my chair to look at her. "Look how about this. Text me the address and I'll think about it."

She placed a hand on her hip. "Will you actually think about it or are you just saying that to get me to leave you alone?"

"Both," I admitted sheepishly.

"Fine," she groaned and pulled out her phone from the side of her backpack. "If you decide to go just let me know and I'll come get you, so you don't have to walk alone. I'm meeting up with a couple of people and we're going together."

My phone pinged from across the desk and Monica's name appeared on the screen. She didn't say anything else as she placed her bag on her bed to get ready. I knew my dad would flip if he ever found out I went to a party. But what he doesn't know won't hurt him. It wasn't like I'd go, get sloppy drunk to a point where I'm throwing up every where and someone has to literally carry me back to the dorm. Then again, I know there's some policy about underage drinking and how it could lead to the involvement of the police. Everyone would be in trouble and that's the last thing I want. I'm not sure if Monica even thought about that. It wasn't like I'd snitch and get the party shut down, but I couldn't help but worry about her since I barely know her which means I don't know her alcohol tolerance.