Wake me

15: MacDonald's

The following days grew longer and more boring, and classes turned into compulsory events that lasted hours. Hours I could've spent doing something else. Weeks turned into months, and soon my life revolved around tasks and tests and final semester projects. Teachers' voices sounded like scratched out records stuck on repeat, and even Anna started sounding dull and hollowed out, her lips cracked and thin. The time spent in the dorm room was slowly poisoning the walls itself. The room became a silent, echoed place that housed books with letters that meant nothing. I didn't admit it to Anna, but she could tell I was going under. Going under where, you may ask? I'll tell you. Ever since Luke had been taken away from me, ripped from my heart, a part of me was taken as well. A part that was vital for me to survive. It was the part that allowed me to smile and laugh, that tiny flick of hope that kept me running. But now, as the days dragged out, I was wearing thin. How much longer was I going to last?

The lecture was boring. As were all the other recent lectures, but this one seemed more boring than the others. I flicked my pencil in between my forefinger and thumb, allowing the sluggish words to pass by my mind. "Miss Parker," came the hazy voice, "Please pay attention, this lecture is important for your end of semester task." I looked up slowly, my eyes meeting with the grumpy teacher in the front of the lecture hall, and I did nothing. I did not bat an eyelid, nor did I frown or mumble an apology. I merely looked back down at the pencil, and I continued listening. I checked my watch every few moments, hoping that the minute hand would fly by quicker, but it seemed to be jumping back two places every time I looked. Finally, the lecturer dismissed the class and I packed my books sluggishly into my case, not caring if the other students had left already or were still scribbling down notes from the chalkboard. "Miss Parker," the groaned voice tried to get my attention, "Do you have any questions about the task?" I wasn't even focusing, I didn't even know that we were handed a task.
"Um," I murmured nervously. Anna took the same lecture, she would tell me about the task anyway, "No, sir." He eyed me suspiciously, as did all the teachers, but they knew. My parents emailed the secretary, explaining that I was in a difficult situation, and that all my teachers and future lecturers were to be noted about it. After Mister Rhodes was warned about my current situation, he completely backed away from me. I wasn't spoken to during my classes, and I refrained from asking questions, and so he refrained from answering. It worked better that way, except the fact that I was starting to feel feelings for Mister Rhodes.
"Are you sure, Miss Parker?" He eyed me suspiciously. I felt my mind going places, and I turned away from him without answering. I backed out of the classroom cautiously, and straight to Mister Rhodes' classroom. I had my crazy mind set one something, and it wasn't letting me coming up with excuses.

I walked straight into his class, and saw that there were still one or two groups of students chattering lazily and packing away their books and materials. Mister Rhodes sat calmly at his desk, his eyes scanning a pile of documents on his desk. I coughed loudly, and when he saw me, his calm expression quickly dissolved into an awkward, panicked look. "Mister Rhodes," I said firmly, my voice shaking, "Do you mind if we talk?" I said it loud enough so that the students in the classroom looked up at me, and their actions became more hurried.
"About schoolwork, I presume?" He said, in desperation to sound collected.
"Yes, Mister Rhodes." I said through gritted teeth, "Schoolwork."
"Of course," he said softly, "What seems to be the problem?"
"Mister Rhodes," I said, trying to remain in tact, "Do you have a problem with people who have their own?"
"Excuse me, Miss Parker?" Mister Rhodes eyes began to wander away from myself and the documents, distracted.
"Mister Rhodes," I sighed, "You know what I'm talking about. You heard of my issues, and you stopped greeting me in the hall, you stopped chatting to me during lectures, you made this entire process of forgetting even harder. Because now, instead of forgetting one person, I need to forget two!" I didn't realize it, but my body was trembling with fury. Mister Rhodes was a man afraid of affection, afraid of all the personal problems that came with it.
"I assure you," he said calmly, "That I have no idea what you going on about."
"No idea? Well, if you went to your email and reopened the message sent my parents on Thursday afternoon, you may be refreshed? No? Mister Rhodes, don't try act like you know nothing about it." I said, my voice trembling more than my clammy hands. "Get out of my office." He closed his eyes, out of frustration and guilt.
"I'm not done-"
"Get out." He spat. I looked at him, hatred burning like a bushfire in my eyes. Tears began streaking down my face. "I was a hopeless, easy target. You got what you wanted, and you tossed me aside like trash. I hope that feels great, Charles." I articulated his name as if it were a curse word, and with a furious heel turn, I stormed out of the classroom. I slammed the door behind me, making the students in the classroom jump with fright, leaving Mister Rhodes to wallow in his own pool of guilt.