The weekend passed too quickly.
I wrap my arms more tightly around my body as I trudge to class. My oversized hoodie replaced the blanket that I had been snuggling in less than an hour ago and it is such a downgrade. I miss my bed. I miss sleeping. I hate school.
I pass groups of friends chattering happily, coffees in hand, and I feel my face stiffen into a glare. Ugh. Happy morning people.
I don't want to have literature class with Gojo right now. Or ever. The unreal, bubble-like feeling of the weekend has slipped away and I'm left with the weird reality of it all once more. The odd shit with Gojo on top of academics sours my mood.
The lecture hall is already bustling with people by the time I arrive (I overslept), and I lurk on in, beelining to the end seat in the very back row. I slide into a seat next to a kid who looks like he showers maybe once every blue moon. He smells like it too. I grab my travel-size perfume out of my bag and spray it in a not-so-discreet way. Pistachio gelato over B.O. any day. The guy looks at me, so I raise my eyebrows and mouth 'what?'. He looks away sheepishly. Hopefully he feels some shame and showers after class today.
With that stench out of the way, I grab my computer and open it up, getting situated for the class. One of my novels was delivered last night, but the remaining ones are still in transit somewhere. I found free pdfs of them online if they're needed though, and my hard copy novel is sitting securely at the bottom of my bag.
I've got this. It's going to be a successful semester.
A shadow falls over me and I hear a voice close to my ear. "'Morning, Y/n."
I nearly jump out of my seat and hear a low chuckle as my lovely TA leans back up, straightening next to me.
"Fuck, Gojo, don't scare me like that," I groan, glaring up at him. "It's too early for that."
Today he has black pants and a dark gray jacket on. Hot. Like, literally, he must be burning up. I nearly roasted alive on my walk here and I had shorts on with my sweatshirt. Long sleeve and pants...yikes. Somehow though, he looks perfectly comfortable. No discernable sweat stains. No upper lip sweat.
"I wasn't trying to scare you, I was trying to say good morning to my student," He replied innocently, cocking his head to the side, eyes wide in mock surprise. He's bullshitting me and we both know it.
"I hate it when you pull the student card," I grumble. "And stop acting like that, you totally meant to scare me."
"Maybe I did," he shrugged casually. "Find all the novels okay?"
"Yeah," I reply. "Although not all of them have been delivered yet. Which one are we doing first?"
"It'll be that French one you asked me about the other day," he replied. "J'espère que tu a ce livre ou tu auras des ennuis."
"I don't know what you're saying," I shake my head at him, laughing a little. "You speak French? Why does that not surprise me."
"I'm just that awesome," he wiggles his eyebrows, smirking.
I fix him with a flat stare. "Right..."
"Mean," he tsks. "I'm actually doing my thesis in French."
"Why? I thought you were getting a literature degree?" I ask.
"I am, it's a French literature degree," he corrects smugly.
"English wasn't good enough for you?" I raise my eyebrows.
"Nah, it's awesome too. I just wanted a challenge," he says, smiling in a slightly feline way that makes me completely believe him about the challenge part.
"You're crazy for that," I laugh. "Thank goodness our book is translated into English."
"This isn't a French course, silly," he says. "The students would riot if we put a French book on the course book list."
"Yes, as your student, I would riot," I nod.
"Now who's pulling the student card?" Gojo asks, crossing his arms. His jacket is just tight enough to see the outline of his muscles.
"Gojo! Gojo, where are you?"
The two of us look up to the front of the room where the professor has his hand on his eyebrows, trying to spot his TA amongst the crowd of seated students. A few of the students are laughing. Gosh, poor guy. This professor is a real scatterbrain.
I raise my eyebrows at Gojo. "You better get up there or you're going to get in trouble."
"He can chill out," Gojo rolls his eyes. "Class doesn't start for..." he checks his watch, "...fuck, I guess class started four minutes ago."
"Get up there," I whisper-yell at him, motioning to the front of the room. "Bad TA."
"Shut up," he laughs, but pushes his hands into his pockets and strolls up the aisle way to the front of the room. I like the view. He has a great figure. Broad shoulders, skinny waist. Mmm.
He and the professor converse for a few moments, but I'm way too far away to hear what they're saying. I zone out and scroll around on my computer, already feeling sleepy again.
Soon enough, the professor begins droning on, repeating half of the things he already told us last class. The boredom in the room is palpable. He introduces the first book we'll be reading and like Gojo said, it's the French one...some sort of tragic romance. Figures. Romance is a myth.
I spend the first part of class drafting an email to my advisor. She's still hell bent on meeting with me this week and I struggle to come up with an adequately enthusiastic email. In the end, I tell her that I'm available tomorrow. With dread, I hit send.
I turn my computer off after that and slouch down in my chair, sweatshirt pulled up to my chin and phone in front of me, sitting on my thighs. I read through a few texts from Elaine, eyes bugging out when I read that she sent them at 5:30 in the morning. I first ask her if she actually gets up that early and then give vague input about a color scheme for the bubble tea shop. The options were mauve and lavender vs turquoise and salmon vs periwinkle and seafoam. I squint at the pictures of color swabs she's sent, narrowing my eyes. They're so not me. I go with the last option anyhow.
When my phone starts to bore me, I shove it into my pocket and stare up at the front of the room, my eyes barely open. The girl in front of my swirls her cup of iced coffee and my mouth waters. I feel half tempted to ask her for a sip.
My eyes move to Gojo, who sits to the side of the professor's podium. It looks like he's got some sort of textbook in his lap, completely absorbed in whatever he's reading. What a nerd.
His eyes flick to me.
I stare back.
His eyebrows raise.
I reach up to scratch under my eye with my middle finger, and he scoffs, shaking his head and focusing back on his book.
I roll my eyes, feeling bored again.
Then, I fall asleep.
_________________
A firm tap on my shoulder brings me careening back to consciousness and I jump, gasping, spatially disoriented.
I blink furiously to clear my blurry vision, looking around me. The lecture hall is completely empty. Silent. Deserted.
"Jesus Christ," I mutter, rubbing my eyes and stretching with a groan.
"No, it's still Gojo Satoru. People confuse me with him a lot though. It's understandable."
Of course.
"Fuck, Gojo, how long has class been out?" I say turning to face him. He has an ornery look on his face.
"A bit," he hedges.
I glare and pull out my phone, looking at the time.
"A bit? Gojo, class has been out for an hour! Why didn't you wake me up?"
"You seemed exhausted. And you were sleeping so peacefully," he shrugs. "Oh, but I think you might have little drool." He points at the corner of his own mouth while motioning to mine with his other hand.
I rub my face, not detecting any sort of drool. "Very funny. Did you take a few pictures too?"
"Of course," Gojo nods. "The opportunity was too good to pass up."
"You're so annoying, " I groan, grabbing my bad and standing up. "You should have woken me up! How do you know I don't have things to do right now? What if I'm currently missing class? A meeting? A shift at my job?"
"Are you?" He cocks his head to the side.
Now standing, I face him. He's in the aisle, blocking my path out of the row of seats. "No."
"Good. Then there's no problem," he says. "You just got a nice nap."
"Move," I say, blinking up at him sweetly.
He smirks down at me.
"Move," I repeat, losing the sweetness.
We both know I'm not mad, but it's all part of our little game. I love playing and I think he might too.
"Alright," he shifts, letting me through, but forcing me to brush past him, my shoulder brushing his chest.
God, I want him so bad.
But I force myself to stay strong and keep walking. I hear his footsteps behind me as I push open the door to the lecture hall, the bright lights of the hallway blinding me.
I look over my shoulder. "You stalking me?"
"No, I woke you up on my way out of the room, technically you're stalking me," he replied, pulling a pair of dark sunglasses out of his pocket.
"How can I be stalking you if I'm walking in front?" I shoot back even as I slow my pace until we're walking side-by-side.
"There," he says. "Now there's no stalking."
"Right, just a student and her TA walking cordially together," I nod.
"That's right," he chuckles, holding the door to the building open for me. The sun is shining and campus is bustling, everyone in their happy little bubbles. I take a deep breath of the warm, fresh air, feeling content.
"Well...I'll see you later, Gojo," I say. I assume he's heading to his car, and the parking lot is in the opposite direction that I'm going. I give him a little wave and then head off in the direction of the campus's coffee shop. It's overpriced, but I'm desperate.
"Wait," I hear behind me. I turn back around. He's got his sunglasses on and his hands casually in his pockets. Effortlessly cool.
"Yeah?"
"I don't want you to feel weird about the other night," he says.
It seems like he's going to say more for a second, but the silent stretches, and I shift on my feet. "It's fine. I don't feel weird."
He nods and there's relief in his voice. "Good. I don't...care if you want to see Getou again. And I don't want you to think I'm looking at you any differently after the whole...bathroom situation either."
I grind my teeth together. Not this again.
"I said it's fine," I laugh. "I'm not going to see Getou again and I'm sure as hell not going to puke my guts out in front of you again. That's done, it's over. I understand that you're my TA."
"That's not--" Gojo sighed. "I'm saying that none of that changes anything. Act like no lines were crossed. Act like we are still friends."
"Friends?" I raise an eyebrow.
He smirks. "Yeah. Friends. Wouldn't you consider us friends?"
"Ummm..." I draw out the word. "I don't even know you."
He outright laughs, the sound so shameless it almost makes me blush. Almost. "Shit, you wound me, Y/n. I thought we were on track to becoming best friends."
"Wouldn't Getou get a little jealous?" I say sarcastically, frowning. "I thought you already had a bestie."
"We're good at sharing," he says, shrugging, smile pulling his lips.
The implications of that sentence make me feel hot all over. I know my cheeks are a little pink now. "That close?"
"Oh, so close," he laughs. "But seriously. Don't go back to just being my student. Don't do that to me."
I stare at him. It's interesting. I know what he's talking about. I know that he's someone I'd get along with, that I could banter with, and that would make me laugh. He'd be a great friend. I can just feel it.
But I also know that I'd be a bad friend. I know that physical attraction isn't meant for platonic friendship.
"I won't," I smile, before turning and walking away.