Waiting For Superman

I Will Murder You In Your Sleep

It had been two days since the party and I hadn't ran into Logan between classes yet.

"You should message him on Facebook," Laura suggested as we sat at the student center, "Aren't you two Facebook official now?"

"Yes we're friends, no, I'm not doing it," I said, "There's nothing to say. I'd rather just run into him or something, he'll probably be at the game this Saturday anyway."

"So you're just going to hope for the best?" she asked.

"Pretty much," I replied.

"I'm not letting you let him slip through your hands," she said.

"Well he's going to have to today because I need to go to the library to print a paper off," I said, checking the time, "See you later."
"Later," she said, "If I see him I'll send him your love," she smirked.

"I will murder you in your sleep," I laughed, packing up my backpack.

I made the short walk over to the library without running into him. I couldn't decide whether or not I actually wanted to see him or not. I couldn't decide whether or not I actually had feelings for him either. Was he just something new and different who intrigued me or was he someone I could actually see myself with?

I made it to the library with just enough time to write the last few sentences of my paper and print it out.

Right as I was printing my paper, I saw Logan walk over to the printer.

Shit.

Taking a deep breath, I got up from the computer I had been using and stood next to him at the printer.

"Hey!" he said with a smile, "How are you?"
"Good," I replied, "How about you?"
"Good," he smiled, "How'd your brother do in districts?"
"They won!" I replied, "They're going to States next weekend."

"That's awesome," he said, "Tell him I said good luck."

"I definitely will," I said as the printer stopped printing.

"Are your papers in here too?" he asked.

"Yeah," I replied.

"Here, I'll go through them," he said, walking over to an empty table and sorting out our papers.

"I'll go grab a stapler," I said, turning to the printer and grabbing the stapler from the top.

"Here you go," he said, handing me three sets of papers.

"Thanks," I said, stapling each set together, "here's a stapler."

"Thanks," he said, taking it from me as I went back to my computer. I took my time logging out of my email and putting my stuff away and checked my phone before walking out, conveniently at the same time as he did.

"I didn't realize it was almost three," I remarked as we walked through the first set of doors out of the library.

"It is?" he asked, opening the second set of doors for me.

"Yeah," I replied.

"I do not want to do this," he laughed, we were editing our classmates papers today for peer review for our ten page research papers. It was going to be a long class.

"Me neither," I laughed, "How long was your paper?"
"Eight pages," he said, "What about you??"
"Nine and the bibliography," I replied.

"Did you get your journal done?" he asked.

"Only fifty-six," I laughed. We had done an academic journal all semester, originally, we were supposed to have seventy-five entries, but he had knocked the highest number down to sixty-five. If we had between fifty-six and sixty-five, we'd get full credit.

"Fifty," he replied, "I'm going to talk to him about it though, I mean, I came into class late because my prof quit the first month, I didn't have time to get sixty-five done."

"I'm sure he'll cut you guys slack," I said, "You guys came in at least a month late."

Logan and a few other guys were switched to our class after a professor quit after the first month of a semester, throwing everyone, including the professor, way off.

"Hopefully," he said, "I'm not ready for peer review."

"Me neither," I laughed.

"The class has been okay though," he said.

"I've loved it," I said, "Best part is the books were all free," I laughed.

"I ended up with three sets," he laughed, "No clue how that happened."

"That means you've got one for your backpack and one for your room," I smirked.

"I'm pretty sure one set is my roommate's," he said, "No clue how I got the second extra set though."

"At least you didn't have to pay for them," I laughed, "And they're not huge."

"The Basic Math thing was awful," he said, "They give you a huge binder with like five hundred pages and then at the end of the semester they're like by the way you owe us $120."

"Seriously?"I said.

"Seriously," he replied, "I hated that class," he said, "You had to take online quizzes every Monday at eight in the morning."
"No thank you," I said, wrinkling my nose as we walked onto the terrace outside the Student Center, "Online math sucks in general. I did nothing but math first semester for high school."
"That would suck," he laughed, "So is it stuff that will transfer?"
"No, it's high school," I said, "It's all I have left to graduate. I have one more unit left."
"Nice," he said as we walked up to Cornerstone Hall and he opened the door for me.

"Thanks, " I said, a giant grin spread across my face as we walked over to the classroom.

"After you," he said, stopping at the door and letting me go in first, causing the butterflies in my stomach to .

A part of me, probably my heart, was hoping he'd come sit next to me in the front of the class, but I knew his buddy was sitting in the back row, so that's where he'd be going but my heart couldn't help but sink a little in my chest when I sat down alone.

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