While We're Here

Chapter Fifteen

On Monday morning, I wake up late. I have thirty minutes until my first class, so I jump out of bed and immediately run to the bathroom to get ready. I don't shower, I only brush my teeth and throw my hair up in a bun. I wish I had the hair that looks cute in a messy bun, but mine doesn't look cute messy. It just looks messy...like, rats nest messy.

Since I'm running late, I slip on black leggings, a gray hoodie, and high-top Converse since it's cold and rainy outside. I attempt to look decent with a pair of silver hoops, and I apply a few strokes of mascara onto my eyelashes, though it barely looks like I did anything when I look in the mirror.

I grab a Pop Tart from the box and a water bottle, then rush out of the door when I stuff my backpack with my supplies. I make it to English with three minutes to spare, grabbing a random seat toward the back since the seats up front are full.

Luckily the class is pretty uneventful, we're all instructed to read a few pieces of literature on our laptops then write about our favorite one on a sheet of paper. I find myself fighting sleep as I read a boring poem, confused by the meaning of it. I always have the worst trouble understanding literature. It's like when an author says the character rides a bike, professors and readers always assume the bike is symbolic. But me? To me, a bike is a bike. I yawn, then begin writing about a short piece about love and death. As soon as we're done, we're instructed to turn it in then we can go - so I do just that.

I have extra time before my Cinema class, so I head to the nearest coffee stand and order the biggest size they have. I hate being the stereotypical college student that relies on coffee, but I can't help it. I need it. I love it. Coffee motivates me to do literally anything.

I grab a blueberry muffin, too, even though I already ate a Pop Tart. The muffin looks too delicious to deny. I grab my items then head toward Cinema class. If I get there early, I can sit in my seat and eat my muffin peacefully.

I enter the building for cinema class, and down the hall, I spot Holden and Jack at a table outside of the classroom.

"Easily Drake, bro," I overhear Jack say, the two not noticing my presence yet, "He can destroy Kanye. Ye is losing it,"

"I mean, yeah, but Drake is sometimes weak," Holden responds, "Sometimes his bars don't impress me."

"Oh, fuck off, Holden. Drake kills it. Kanye used to be great until he got all fuckin' psycho with his MAGA hats."

Holden shrugs, "Alright, you're right."

I laugh, which makes the two look up at me. Holden eyes the muffin in my hand, muttering, "Ooh!"

"You guys are here early," I comment. They're usually walking into the classroom minutes after the lecture has begun, earning eye rolls from our professor.

Jack sighs, "Yeah we had a meeting with the admin about our incident last year."

I cringe, "How'd that go?"

Holden reaches over toward my muffin, and I eye him, then let him grab a piece, "It was fine," he says as he stuffs his mouth, "They just check our grades and our records to make sure we're not fucking around."

"Working orientation really helped," Jack adds, "That made us look good."

"Long live those khaki pants," Holden laughs.

I join them at their table as we wait for class to begin, the three of us sharing my small muffin. Jack's busy on his laptop writing a paper, Holden is creating a new Spotify playlist, and I'm sitting people-watching down the hallway.

When our professor enters the building and approaches us down the hall, he spins round and round near our table, then makes it look like he's collapsing as he laughs.