One week down. Twenty more to go.
Tuesday morning found me inside American Literature with hopes of beginning our first novel. The syllabus had listed the books in their reading order, and one of my favorite classics was first. I thought of my personal copy stuffed into a bookshelf in my bedroom and could almost smell its worn pages – a rare feeling of joy tingled through me.
Suddenly, a rough motion reverberated in my peripherals. It was unnecessary to glance in the direction as I instantly knew who I would find.
Ben Harrison, an official member of the track team, took his seat. Our first practice had been yesterday evening, and things had gone about how I expected, maybe even a bit worse. Ben's event was going to be the sixteen-hundred meter. Four laps around the track. At a competitive speed. Once Ben had determined this was the race he wanted to compete in, Nelson had instantly tried to convince him to run a shorter distance event. Rodriguez, on the other hand, swooped in and assured Ben a place in his chosen event. The look on Nelson's face had been nothing short of terrifying.
Rodriguez's words replayed themselves in my mind: "This is only a junior college level track team."
While he was right, at the junior level, no one was really competing for star status. But they were still competing, some with hopes of being slotted for a collegiate district division. If I pushed myself, I could run the sixteen hundred meter in under eight minutes, and the men's division could run it even faster. And from what I had seen at practice yesterday, Ben could hardly run at all; he had jogged, quite coarsely, barely twice around the track. How he was going to manage three other laps before our first track meet - well, who was to say?
Proving true to his nature, Rodriguez offered Ben a lot of encouragement and stuck with him as much as possible. Nelson on the other hand, kept clear of them both and cast his his attention off of them when they entered his sightline.
The opposite was true for everyone else: they gawked at Ben as if stumbling upon some strange, exotic animal at the zoo.
Ben had seemed unperturbed by the onlookers, and despite how painful it was to watch him run, he still carried on. And that was more than I could say for most people when attempting something new.
Class then started, and my mind zipped to reality. Professor Williams stepped into the front of the small class and offered her greetings. I snuck a glance towards Hudson who had arrived seconds before, muttering a quick 'hello' to me as he sat down. Currently, he was doodling in an open notebook and I could see Professor William's words going in one ear and out the other. Classic Hudson. Not that I was much better at the moment. I couldn't recite a single thing she had said, but immediately snapped to attention when I heard "group project."
"So, I will be pairing you up and it will be your job to schedule times to work together and complete the project. Got it?"
No, I didn't have it. I had no idea what the group project entailed; my mind had been elsewhere. It was listed in the syllabus but there were no instructions or guidelines.
A hand shot up.
"Yes, Shonisha?" Williams asked.
"Does the visual aid need to be anything specific?"
Williams pushed the small, round glasses up the bridge of her nose. "No, nothing specific. When you select your book, you will work with your partner to create something which is to relay the main plot point and theme of the novel."
Bless you, Shonisha. Now that I had a general idea of the semester project, the next fear was the said project partner.
I despised group work.
No time was wasted. Williams' kept the partnering simple and told the first row to glace to their right and the second row to glace to their left. The person sitting in the direction you looked would be your partner, which meant...
"And row number four, glance to your left."
I didn't have to in order to know who I would find sitting there.
I sucked in a harsh breath and shifted my head to the left, lifting my eyes to meet the honey hued ones. Ben smiled and even went as far as to raise his hand in a small wave.
I did not return either greeting.
On the other side of me, I heard a snicker. An amused smile stuck to his face, Hudson said through a laugh, "Good luck with that."
My already small mouth pinched together as I attempted to ignore him, hoping Ben hadn't heard. Or maybe he had simply ignored Hudson. Ben seemed rather gifted at ignoring other people.
"Want to trade?" Hudson whispered. He was the last row and had been partnered with the girl in front of him. I quickly stole a glance her way and noticed a blush raising up her neck as she silently played with her unruly hair.
Even though Hudson had been joking, it wasn't a bad idea. The girl would make a better partner to Ben than I ever would, and she probably would have at least returned his smile. But doing so would mean I'd be stuck working with Hudson, and that prospect was even less inviting.
I just wanted to work alone. Was that so much to ask for?
I shot Hudson a riled look and hoped it would be enough to shut him up. And, after one last, rather loud laugh, he shifted forward in his seat.
"Alright, why doesn't everyone get together with your partner? I'll hand out a list of novels to choose from and the both of you can select. Once you decide, come up to me and I will write it down and give you the copies."
Inhaling once more, I turned my attention on Ben, thought about saying 'hello', but ultimately decided on a tight-lipped smile. Much to my chagrin, Ben returned my taciturn greeting with another kind grin and wave.
"Hi, Elliot," he said in his awkward, choppy voice, and my ears rang. I heard Hudson chuckle on the other side of me. "I'm Ben."
"Yeah," I said, hating how cold I sounded but not doing a single thing to change it.
"It's nice to meet you," he continued, and when I didn't respond he spoke further, "I hope you don't mind reading out loud, because I can't read and will need you to."
Simultaneously, my eyebrows knitted together and mouth hardened.
"That was a joke," said Ben.
I didn't laugh. Once upon a time, maybe.
Ben didn't falter as he skimmed over the booklist and added, "I don't really care what book we read, but I've read a couple and would like to pick one that I haven't."
I showed my agreement with a single nod.
"So, what do you think about..." Ben glanced over the list. "Farenheit 451?"
I had read that particular novel the summer before high school. My face must have given this away because Ben asked, "You've read it?"
Seriously considering telling him I hadn't to get this over with, something inside of me decided against it, and I said coolly, "Yes."
Ben returned to the huge list in front of him. "Okay, how about... We Have Always Lived in the Castle?" His eyes reverted to me expectantly.
"Read it," I said, picturing the spot it claimed on my bookshelf.
"A Farewell to Arms?"
I nodded my head once again. Although, I wouldn't have minded rereading it.
Ben cast me a strange look, a thought swirling around in his gold eyes. He then took another glance at his list before looking at mine. "This might be easier if you pick one you haven't read."
My eyes darted to Ben quickly before settling on the list. He almost looked amused, maybe a little surprised. I was a reader; books were a way for me to escape, to leave reality for a moment in time. And as I looked at the list in front of me, I realized I had read nearly every one listed, except for a scattered few.
Tucking hair behind my left ear, I pointed to a novel I hadn't heard of. "How about Awakening?"
A quirk played at the edges of Ben's mouth before he shifted in his chair and said, "I was half expecting you to tell me you had read every book on the list." I kept my eyes off him as if doing so would hide the fact he was almost right. "I'll go let Professor Williams know we picked a book and get two copies."
Ben stood up and proceeded to the front of the classroom. I watched him in silence, releasing a deep breath of air I hadn't realized I'd been stowing. I wrung my hands out in my lap, noticing they had become increasingly clammy; I wasn't sure why. Ben was now talking to Professor Williams, smiles adorning both of their faces. I wrung my hands out again, a strange feeling prickling its way up my spine.
When Ben returned to his seat, he handed me the copy of the book we would spend the semester reading. I felt its weight, and fluid excitement coursed through me, such was always the case when reading a new book. However, I noticed not long after, the book started to feel like a brick in my hand.
I muttered a quick "thanks" to Ben as I felt I owed him that much. He scrunched down to his backpack, slipped the book inside, and on his return journey asked, "Do you want to meet next week to start working on it – the project?"
I grimaced. "Sure."
But before our little powwow ended, Ben said one final thing. "Are you sure you haven't read All the Light we Cannot See. If I was a betting man..."