Cooking With The QB ✔️

F I V E ~ "There she is!"

Said no college student ever.

The thing is, I don't care about the technicalities of dance. I just want to dance. I don't care about how the body works or theories or the benefits of working out.

I just want to dance.

I eventually I want to get into a group, but right now I just don't have the time.

I'm lying, but no-one's gonna know that.

There's a dance group here on campus, but I'm too scared to try it out. Plus, I'm a senior so it's a bit late.

I'm brought out of my thoughts as I look around the room.

It's a basic classroom, the only difference is the seats. My teacher, Miss Poppy, decided that to keep things interesting, she should always change the way the seats are laid out.

There's lots of awkward eye contact in this class....

Today they're in a diamond shape in the centre of the room, the desks pushed against the walls.

I set my sights on Emma, my best friend, and make my way over to her.

"Where the fuck have you been?" She asks, throwing her hands in the air.

I sit down in the seat beside her before speaking. "Good morning to you to." I laugh, before answering her question. "What do you mean?"

"You've been MIA for the the last three days!" She exclaims.

I look back at her face, her eyes shimmering with curiosity. "No I haven't!" I exclaim. Lie.

"Yes you have! I last saw you at the football match when you were on a suicide mission to talk to Axel McSmith and then after that it's as though you've disappeared off the face of the earth..."

"Ohh, yeah, you're right." Looking at the board, trying to avoid Emma's penetrating stare.

"So?! Tell me about it!" She laughs with disbelief.

"Shesh, calm down woman!" I nudge her shoulder with my own before turning serious. "I met up with Axel at his apartment. He agreed to it, by the way. We made some god-awful omelettes and we haven't met up since. Oh! And I got a roommate, he's called Rob."

Why did my week suddenly revolve around two boys?

Emma's jaw looks as though it's about to hit the floor when I blurt all of this out. But, before she can even speak, Miss Poppy walks in.

Saving me from Emma's wrath.

••••

"Okay, I swear, I think I might die." Emma groans, resting her head on the booth behind her.

After our awful theories class, Emma and I made an improv decision to get coffee. For lunch.

There's water in iced-coffee anyway, that's good enough.

"It's you who took the class." I laugh, pointing at her.

Emma's major is in interior design. But because she's so super smart and completed a class early she had to pick up another random class. So she chose one of mine.

Best friend goals right there everyone.

"Yeah, because you said the course is fun! This is not fun. And is taught by someone who's called Miss Poopy." She finishes her rant with a huff, crossing her arms over her chest.