Ace and I trudge up the stairs to the planetarium for our midterm. He's mumbling names of constellations and stars while I wipe my sweaty palms on the front of my jeans. I'm just nervous for the midterm, nothing else. We walk in and sit down in the middle of the room. I set an alarm on my phone today so there was no chance of being late for the test, not because I wanted to chat up heavenly-smelling males. With that in mind, I lean over to Ace and get a good sniff. He smells like the shea butter product he puts in his hair to keep the twists in, it's good but not what I craved all evening yesterday. Unfortunately, Ace noticed my little sniff test and asks what I'm doing just as I catch sight of my ovaries' current favorite person walking towards us. I whip my eyes away before I see his face so that I can keep making coherent sentences. "Just wondering if you were sweating enough over this test to start stinking. You're good for now but I'll kick you if it gets out of hand in the middle of the exam." Ace only rolls his eyes at me, not allowing himself to be too distracted from running through names of ancient astronomers in chronological order now.
When our professor walks in and starts handing out our tests, I give in and scan the room. The man I'm looking for has opted for a seat close to the door, maybe he thinks he'll finish early and doesn't want to disturb people leaving. Or maybe he has a tiny bladder and wanted easier access to the bathroom. I grab a test and pass one to Ace, mouthing "good luck" before I pick up my pen and start. Scanning the questions, I feel pretty confident. The late-night cram session Ace insisted on was probably unnecessary.
I finish my test before Ace and head down the stairs, planning on texting him that I'll meet him after a quick practice session if he wants to grab lunch. I didn't see good-smelling handsome guy–I should really give him a nickname or stop thinking about him–on my way out so I assume he finished quickly. I guess that means his bladder size is normal. At the bottom of the stairs, I stop because he's there, casually lounging against the wall with his hands in his pockets. I look around for someone with a camera because I certainly found his good angle. He looks up to catch me staring once again. I get a smirk before he pushes off the wall and takes a couple steps towards me, I figure that's my cue to also continue walking instead of practicing being a roadblock. "Your friend looked pretty stressed up there, do you think he'll be a while?" Oh my gosh, I forgot how deep and rich his voice is. Mine sounds shaky to my ears when I reply. "Ace will be fine; he just takes his time." I hesitate before asking, "Are you waiting for him?" If I weren't in an anti-relationship phase, I'd wish he was waiting for me. He smiles up at me with sparkling green eyes, "Only if you are."