Reclusive- s.r

three

I want to throw my laptop across the room, and I am not speaking hyperbolically.

I read the email over and over again, rubbing my eyes to make sure that I'm not seeing some sort of mistake, and that Professor Edwards must have gotten it wrong. But nope, it's still there when I read the email once more, then twice more, until I've been staring at my name for about three minutes.

This can't be right, I refuse to believe it.

I read the first part of the email again, muttering to myself under my breath.

Please refer to the attached sheet below for assignment partners.

I click on the photo once more, my name staring right back at me, and I feel like I've got the worst luck in the entire word. I can see my name, perfectly fine and clear, but next to the only name I would never want with mine. In bold, black letters, my worst possible nightmare looks right back at me.

Vega Auclair & Spencer Reid

I close my laptop and immediately grab the nearest pillow on my head, burying my face into it and letting out a frustrated scream. I hear the door of my bedroom open, and in run Celeste and Grace.

"What's wrong?!" Grace exclaims as Celeste frantically search the room for an intruder of some sorts. I whine loudly and bury my face in the pillow again, shouting random curses alternating between both French and English before I toss the pillow on the ground and run a frustrated hand through my hair.

Of all the people I would have to be stuck with for this, it would be the one person who knows how to push every single one of my buttons in the most patronizing way. Spencer Reid is not going to make this easy for me, but I refuse to jeopardize my grade in this class over him. I can practically feel my stress levels rising through the roof, and I haven't even had to work with him yet. I can't do what I normally would for these kinds of projects, because Spencer will want to have complete control over the entire thing, and I'll hold onto it with my cold, dead hands.

"Do we need wine?" Grace chimes in, glancing at me. I don't think that either of them has seen me this frustrated before, because I'm usually much better at hiding it than this. With so much at stake for me, I can't afford to lose myself. I need to keep my eyes on the task at hand, and if I worry about anything else, I think I might reach my breaking point.

Well, this officially feels like I've reached my breaking point, and it sucks.

Celeste returns with the bottle of wine from the fridge, which is an upgrade from the usual boxed wine they buy. Fancy. I shake my head when she offers it out to me, and she shrugs, taking a swig right from the bottle herself. I run another hand through my hair, and I hear my phone chime on the nightstand, indicating another email. Maybe its from Professor Edwards, apologizing for her mistake, and I'll no longer have to work with him.

Unfortunately, it seems to be the devil himself emailing me. I frown for a moment, unsure of how he got my email, then remembering he can easily find my university email with minimal effort. I grab my laptop from the floor and open it up, clicking on his email with no regard for the subject line. I know why he's reached out, because I was about to do the exact same thing once I got my shit together.

I'm going to assume you've seen the bad news, then?

I sigh and click on the reply button, formulating a response of my own. I'm stuck with him, and I know that I can't do anything about it. If I didn't want to wrap my hands around his neck all the time, we'd probably make a good team. But alas, we don't.

The one thing that I am able to admit, though, is that Spencer nor me would ever risk doing poorly on this because of each other. Translation: that means I'll have to play nice with Spencer Reid for the next few weeks.