Failing For You - Gojo x Reader

Chapter 8

"You're crazy for that," I laugh. "Thank goodness our book is translated into English."

"This isn't a French course, silly," he says. "The students would riot if we put a French book on the course book list."

"Yes, as your student, I would riot," I nod.

"Now who's pulling the student card?" Gojo asks, crossing his arms. His jacket is just tight enough to see the outline of his muscles.

"Gojo! Gojo, where are you?"

The two of us look up to the front of the room where the professor has his hand on his eyebrows, trying to spot his TA amongst the crowd of seated students. A few of the students are laughing. Gosh, poor guy. This professor is a real scatterbrain.

I raise my eyebrows at Gojo. "You better get up there or you're going to get in trouble."

"He can chill out," Gojo rolls his eyes. "Class doesn't start for..." he checks his watch, "...fuck, I guess class started four minutes ago."

"Get up there," I whisper-yell at him, motioning to the front of the room. "Bad TA."

"Shut up," he laughs, but pushes his hands into his pockets and strolls up the aisle way to the front of the room. I like the view. He has a great figure. Broad shoulders, skinny waist. Mmm.

He and the professor converse for a few moments, but I'm way too far away to hear what they're saying. I zone out and scroll around on my computer, already feeling sleepy again.

Soon enough, the professor begins droning on, repeating half of the things he already told us last class. The boredom in the room is palpable. He introduces the first book we'll be reading and like Gojo said, it's the French one...some sort of tragic romance. Figures. Romance is a myth.

I spend the first part of class drafting an email to my advisor. She's still hell bent on meeting with me this week and I struggle to come up with an adequately enthusiastic email. In the end, I tell her that I'm available tomorrow. With dread, I hit send.

I turn my computer off after that and slouch down in my chair, sweatshirt pulled up to my chin and phone in front of me, sitting on my thighs. I read through a few texts from Elaine, eyes bugging out when I read that she sent them at 5:30 in the morning. I first ask her if she actually gets up that early and then give vague input about a color scheme for the bubble tea shop. The options were mauve and lavender vs turquoise and salmon vs periwinkle and seafoam. I squint at the pictures of color swabs she's sent, narrowing my eyes. They're so not me. I go with the last option anyhow.

When my phone starts to bore me, I shove it into my pocket and stare up at the front of the room, my eyes barely open. The girl in front of my swirls her cup of iced coffee and my mouth waters. I feel half tempted to ask her for a sip.

My eyes move to Gojo, who sits to the side of the professor's podium. It looks like he's got some sort of textbook in his lap, completely absorbed in whatever he's reading. What a nerd.

His eyes flick to me. 

I stare back.

His eyebrows raise.

I reach up to scratch under my eye with my middle finger, and he scoffs, shaking his head and focusing back on his book.

I roll my eyes, feeling bored again.

Then, I fall asleep.

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A firm tap on my shoulder brings me careening back to consciousness and I jump, gasping, spatially disoriented.