Sleepwalking // xBayani [ON HOLD]

i

I always sat at the back of the classroom in my Calculus class at Seattle University, trying to drown out whatever lecture was going on that I felt was unnecessary; but at the same time, occasionally glancing up to view the professor’s handwriting shown upon a large screen. Taking barely any notes, I pull out the only release of schooling that I at the moment have access to; my phone. I unlock it and tap the Messenger app, immediately viewing my notifications. None, as always.

I spend a few minutes reading through old messages before I look back up to see that the professor is no longer at the front of the class. Half of my unnamed colleagues have left, the rest are packing up to go, and I’m here with close to nothing done.

I turned around and found none other than the professor at my side.

“Mr…?” Her voice was sharp. She was a tall, skinny woman, who was very pale toned. She seemed that if she wasn’t in our day she would have fairly existed with Medieval times.

“Daski.” I reply, making eye contact with her. She frowned.

“Mr. Daski, were you not paying attention to my lecture?”

“Sorry if it didn’t look like I was, Professor. I took notes, though,” I breathe, flipping through my binder and reaching the “Notes” tab. The notes from yesterday were neatly written on the first college-ruled page.

She scans the paper quickly, not looking carefully enough, and gives me a slight nod. “Continue whatever you’re doing. Just make sure you’re gone by noon.” With that statement, she walked off and I began to frantically pack up my things.

My textbook slid in my messenger bag, along with my folder, binder, calculator, and notebook. Calculus required less than most people think, yet it’s more difficult than they think. They think you can always use your calculator just because it’s called calculus, nope. Barely are we even allowed to use it.

As soon as I reassured myself that all of my belongings are bagged or pocketed, I walked down the staircase of the lecture room and exited the back doors. It led to an alleyway that had two directions, one that was short and quick that led to my apartment, the other a long walk that led downtown. I went to the left, which was the quick way to my apartment.

That alleyway was my quickest way downtown. I normally walk down there to try and get back and forth almost instantaneously.

I walk down the short pathway and soon feel a whirl of the nearly fresh air of suburban Seattle, although I may not be that far out.

For the majority of the day, I spent it online, mainly Twitter. It’s the website that I was normally on, so it wasn’t that big of a surprise when my mother came to ask what I was doing that afternoon.

I went out later that night to get a slurpee from the 7 Eleven downtown, and I went down that alleyway. Running down it only took two minutes, but also took the wind out of me. I felt relieved to go into the bright store at 10 P.M. I went straight to the back, plucked a cup out from the dispenser under the icy treat’s machine, and went straight for the cherry coke. Too delicious to leave alone.

I filled it almost to the top and capped it with the clear casing, grabbing a straw from the open selection that was offered. Making my way up the aisles to the registers, I also grabbed a package of Twix and some orange TicTacs.

I pull out my card after putting the purchases on the counter, the clerk not looking all that excited. Their night was either going horribly or they were just tired.

“Can I offer you something? Anything in the store you want, I’ll buy for you.” I smile, feeling great about how generous that I was being. Kind of felt bad, but aren’t you supposed to feel good when you are trying to brighten someone’s day?