Sparring Partners [18+]

Chapter Six: Can't Escape You

"Okay, so does everyone have access to the module handbook? In this module you'll be delivering a lecture on an artist of your choosing. It's a partner project, and you'll be organising everything yourselves - from the location, to your audience. You can work in groups of two to four, and I'll need to know what your groups are by the end of the week."

Fantastic. It's moments like these that made me realise how inconvenient it is to have no friends on your course. Perhaps I should have tried a little harder to get to know everyone during the induction week... and throughout the whole first year of university. Sure, there were people I chatted to that I could sit with while we waited for the tutor to show up, but there was no one that I would hang out with at a party. There was no one that I'd spoken to for more than ten minutes.

The tutor continued discussing the module, talking us through the mark scheme, but I was no longer paying any attention. Instead, I was worrying about who the hell I'd have to work with for the next few months. I really didn't want to have to meet up with some of these people outside of uni. Or worse, what if I partnered up with someone who never showed up to work on the project and I had to do the whole thing? That had been the case for a few past projects. I certainly knew who I wouldn't be partnering up with this time around.

I scanned the lecture hall, noticing most people were already muttering to each other, organising their groups while the tutor continued to talk. To my right sat a boy named Ben; he was a lanky guy with trimmed bleached blond hair, pale skin and a barely there scruff of stubble along his jaw. I'd said maybe two words to him the entire time we'd been at uni - probably because he rarely attended classes. I really didn't want to work with him.

"Hey," a voice two seats to my left whispered. "Daisy, you wanna' pair up?"

Roman Williams sat to my left, one chair over, slouched onto the tiny folding desk, dressed in a baggy hoodie and joggers, a twin to my own comfortable outfit - it was rare I wore anything else to lectures. There was no need to make University worse than it already was and jeans certainly made things about fifty times shitter.

He ran a hand through his textured hair, side eyeing me as he pretended to keep his focus on the tutor at the front.

"Daisy?" He prompted, again speaking in a quiet whisper so as not to draw the tutor's attention.

"Uh, yeah, sure," I agreed, relief audible in my tone. Roman was definitely a preferred partner. He was quiet in the seminars and studio sessions, but he didn't seem to slack off, and his work was great. Maybe if we worked hard enough, we could finish the presentation way before the deadline and relax for the rest of the module.

Roman sighed. "Oh thank God, I literally haven't spoken to anyone else on our course before. This is what being an antisocial knob gets you."

I snickered quietly, my shoulders shaking with the effort it took to make as little noise as possible, and he grinned back at me.

"Do you have a spare pen, by the way?" he asked, gesturing to his desk. "I forgot one, so I've just been staring at a blank notebook this entire time while Martin drabbles on."

"Sorry no."

"Ah mate, I've got one," Ben interrupted, suddenly leaning over me with a pen in hand. I flinched back, shooting him a sharp glare at the sudden intrusion of my personal space. He's practically in my lap, for goodness' sake.

Roman accepted the pen with a quiet thanks, having to lean over the empty chair between us, his fingers outstretched as far as possible to grasp it. All the while I leant back as far as possible. The polite thing to do would have been to pass it along, but I'd already committed to putting as much distance between Ben and I.