Leave it Unread

Chapter 2

"Creative writing intro students, follow me!" the guide yells out as Ben reaches to cheesily shake my hand.

"Are you CW?" We both ask at the same time, nodding instantly as we follow the guide to Professor Michaelson's office. There are about eight of us in the group including Ben and I as we cram ourselves into the small office.

"Hello! I'm Professor Michaelson and I'll be teaching your intro to creative writing class. I'm thrilled that we are a small group, but it'll be a fun semester, I have no doubt." Professor Michaelson starts at the far end of the group to listen to each of our interests as Ben leans against the wall.

"Hi, Professor Michaelson, I write poetry. I promise I'm not a dumb jock." Ben mutters under his breath, smirking at me as I look at him from the corner of my eye.

"You're a poet?" I whisper, his eyes meeting mine in apprehension. To be frank, Ben is becoming more interesting as each minute passes.

"Ssh, it'll ruin my popular boy reputation." He jokes, placing a lip to his finger to jokingly signal us to be silent.

"Oh, please." I roll my eyes, nudging him as if we have been friends for years. I'm internally surprised at the comfort of being next to Ben. I have gone eighteen years of my life with barely speaking to another human, but for some reason, it's like Ben and I have known each other for years.

"What, jocks can't write poetry?" He presses, turning to face me as Professor Michaelson is two people down from where Ben and I are waiting.

"I think you need to consider therapy, Ben. Seems like you have something unresolved if you keep having to assure yourself that you're not just a jock." 

He laughs loudly at this, a sound that I now know is not just an obnoxious response. He genuinely finds my retorts amusing. I make a mental note to keep up the responses without missing a beat.

"Trust me, I think we all need therapy." He whispers, nodding as Professor Michaelson stands in front of me, reaching out a hand to shake mine.

"Your name?" He towers over me, which, in my defense, is a common occurrence seeing as I'm 5'3. 

"Noelle. Noelle Simmons, it's very nice to meet you, Professor." I shake his hand firmly as he smiles down at me.

"What's your focus?"

"Fiction. Still undecided about the specifics as of now." I lie, nearly seeing Ben roll his eyes without even looking at him.

"That's the case for many creative writing students. I'd be surprised if you don't find yourself becoming a creative non-fiction writer by the end of the semester." He laughs, shaking my hand again before moving towards Ben. I watch Ben stiffen as Professor Michaelson shakes his hand, for once having to look up. It's quite a nice sight, seeing Ben's arm flex as he continues to introduce himself to the Professor.

"I'm Ben Jacobs. I write poetry." He squeezes his eyes as if he's missed a vital part of his introduction. I look at him quizzingly when he quickly looks my way for an affirmatory nod. "I'm a poet, sir. I don't think that'll change." He smiles warmly, warranting a swoon from nearly everyone in the room.

"I like commitment, Ben. I'm glad you know what you want. Plus, keep it up on the field and extra credit will be in this class's future." The room applauds as Ben shines a mega-watt smile, looking at me directly as he responds.

"Don't worry, Prof. I'll be damn poetic on the field."

I groan as Kelly, a girl who specifically made her claim to writing thrillers, places a palm on her cheek as she burns up. I roll my eyes again as Professor Michaelson goes to meet the guide at the door as we are ushered out.