Leave it Unread

Chapter 5

"Alright everyone," Professor Michaelson starts, standing up at the front of the room as he smiles at all of us. "Please pull up the syllabus on our course site and yes, I can tell when you're on social media, so keep it solely on the syllabus, okay?" He shakes his head at what seems to be a constant occurrence of students disregarding his every word.

"Yeah, Barrymore, no Twitter." Ben whispers sneakily. I look over and give him a slight smile as his message to Kathleen is in neon green lights in my mind. 

'You'd bring Zeus to his knees.' 

I shake it off as I look over the class objectives, Professor Michaelson making it clear that we'll be writing three major pieces of creative work this semester with weekly peer-reviews. 

"You'll get one peer-review partner, since this is a small group. Each week, you will send each other your current drafts and give each other feedback." My eyes go wide as I see the peer-review groups lined up on the syllabus.

On the fourth line, in bold, black letters is a problem: Ben Jacobs and Noelle Simmons.

"Barrymore, it's you and me this entire semester." Ben leans back and places his hands behind his head, smirking as he wiggles his eyebrows. I groan internally as I put my head in my hands. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Ben's eyebrows push together as he looks at me, the smirk falling from his lips. 

"Noe-"

"Jacobs, introduce yourself to the class." Professor Michaelson says sternly, crossing his arms as he leans against the whiteboard. The class shifts to look at Ben, his body returning back to a collected position as he scratches his neck.

"Okay, uh... I'm Ben Jacobs. I'm a freshman and I'm majoring in English. Creative writing. I'm a poet." He whispers the last part like it's some sort of curse, which the class doesn't miss a beat to open their eyes widely. Apart from me--I learned this information yesterday because I wasn't gawking in the corner over the beauty that is Ben Jacobs.

"And where do you see yourself going with poetry, Jacobs?" I look over to see Professor Michaelson actually invested, my eyes returning to Ben as his are open wide to mirror our classmates. He looks over at me anxiously as I give him an affirmatory nod.

"I want to get published, sir. Write a poetry collection. Potentially..." His words drift off like he's lost in his own conclusions, his eyes squeezing shut as Professor Michaelson asks me to introduce myself next.

"I'm Noelle Simmons, I'm a freshman," I start, looking over at Ben again to see his eyes still closed shut. Had he not been a star, I'm sure everyone would ask if he was okay. I guess the beauty of being popular means that everyone assumes you're just fine. "I write fiction. No specific kind, but I really like to dip my toes in every area."

"Thank you, Noelle." Professor Michaelson goes on to ask the rest of the class to introduce themselves. I zone out as I look over at Ben, his eyes fluttering as he presses his mousepad with his forefinger over and over. I pull up a word doc and write, in bright, red letters 'are you okay?' and slightly inch it to be visible to Ben.

"Ben," I whisper, pointing to my computer screen when his eyes meet mine. His eyes sneak over to look at my computer screen as he smiles lightly. He types up something on his computer quietly as Professor Michaelson talks to Cade, a freshman creative nonfiction writer, about a faculty member he should consider talking to about his interests.

'I'll tell you after class. Coffee? Tea? What does Drew Barrymore drink?'

I nod and suppress a laugh as I think about Kathleen. For once, I'll listen to my mind. I wonder what Zeus would drink in our contemporary scene.

***

After class, Professor Michaelson asks Ben to stay behind for a few minutes to discuss something. Ben asks me to wait for him in the hall, which is perfect as I pull out my phone and see the three messages from Kathleen.

'Noelle! How do I respond?'

"Noelle? Ugh, you're in class, aren't you?!'

'NOELLE, SOS. I NEED YOU TO TELL ME HOW TO RESPOND. ALSO, WHO IS ZEUS?'

I roll my eyes at the last one. I type up a quick response before Ben walks out of the door, walking my way.

'I'm busy, K. I'll think of a response when I'm done with a meeting.'

I throw my phone in my bag again as Ben shakes his head, smiling from ear to ear as we walk out of the building.

"What was that about? If you don't mind me asking." I look down as he takes a deep breath, holding the door for me as we are met with the warm air.

"He said he noticed I kept hesitating to immerse myself in the classroom dynamic. Asked me to leave the field outside and only think about poetry in the classroom. Told me that no one would judge me. Which reminds me, why'd you groan when I made the comment about us being peer-review partners?" I look up and his eyebrows are, again, pushed together. It's beautiful, the way they're perfect reflections of one another. Mine are sisters, Kathleen always says. Not twins.

"I, uh..." I can see a flash of hurt cross his face as I hold my hands up in surrender, coming up with a quick response to make sure I never have to see Ben Jacobs look upset again. "It's just that you'll laugh. At my writing."

"Me? Would you think the same thing if another classmate was your partner?" He holds my elbow and turns me to face him, looking down at me as his lips part slightly. For a second, I'm frozen again, the fire settling to a soft blow in my stomach.

"No one else really notices me. I mean, no one ever notices me. I mean..." Great. It's day two of talking to this guy and I'm letting him know of my issues of being a nobody.

"What?" He presses, coming closer as his head leans slightly to the right, as if to motion for me to reveal everything.

"You're the star of the football team. You're probably a phenomenal poet. Everyone else in class seems to be struggling already with an area in creative writing, even though we kinda know what we want. You know what you want, which means you'll probably read my writing and think I'm someone no more worthy than space on Tumblr. No shade to Tumblr."

"You think that?" His tone is serious, the hurt reflected in his eyes again as he closes them and takes another deep breath. "Noelle, I don't have my shit together. I'd never laugh at someone's writing. I'd never laugh at yours, for that matter." 

He looks down at me in a way that almost feels automatic now as I nod slowly and bite my lip. It's a habit I formed when I'd sit next to Kathleen as everyone talked to her, their eyes glancing over me to question what my position even was as someone at the table. Sometimes I'd bite my bottom lip so hard, it'd split, my tongue quickly lapping up the blood.

"Ben, I'm... I have one friend. Okay? One. And you talking to me, it's... It's never been like this before. I've never been talked to before. Does that ease everything for you?" My tone is slightly snappy as his eyes open a bit wider in surprise. Is he surprised I have one friend? That I'm genuinely in shock that he's talking to me?

"I don't believe that." He whispers, shaking his head in rejection. "You think I'm too good to talk to you? That's bullshit." 

"Yeah, well, welcome to the world of Noelle. No-way-in-elle. Fun fact, Marco Lionel made that my nickname in sixth grade when I tried to sit with his group at lunch when my best friend was sick from school."

I can't pinpoint what he's thinking as he rolls his eyes, his mouth in a frown as he considers how to respond. I nod my head and turn around to go back into the building before he grabs my arm, pulling me back towards him. The fire that was once settled crawls from the pit of my stomach to my throat, making it hard for me to breathe.

"Barrymore. Let's go have a therapy sesh over an iced macchiato. It's time to get to the root of those mommy issues." He winks, walking towards the library, my eyes scanning his backpack that feels like a star in the midst of a vast universe when it comes to the width of his back.