Everything Is Just Fine

Chapter 7

I walk through campus, hoping college is the clean slate I want it to be. I need something new after all the grief and heartbreak of the last five months.

But Mom and Dad's memory always linger with me, so I don't really think there is a way to start new when you've lost the most important people in your life.

Even as I walk along the tree-lined paths and cut across the immaculate green grass, my fingers itch to pull my phone from my pocket and call my mom.

If I could talk to her, I would tell her about Toby, Amy, and Shelby. I'd tell her about the party and meeting Poisonous Winter. I think she would have liked their music. I would tell her about living in the dorms and ask her where exactly in the library did she and Dad draw graffiti on the wall. Mostly, I just want to tell her that I love her and miss her.

I pause in my steps as my thoughts turn melancholic. I tighten my grip on the strap of my backpack as I mentally steel myself, bricking up a wall in my mind, because if I don't the grief will consume me like it has for the last few months.

I inhale. I'm glad I have an appointment with my new therapist the next day. Exhale. And continue on my way.

Once I make it to my first class, I realize I'm a few minutes late, but the professor hasn't arrived. I find a chair in the second row to the back. I have this thought that if you pick the very last row the teachers will think you're lazy and always pick on you even if you don't raise your hand, and if you pick the front row then you look too eager. Always pick the middle. Personally, I like the second to last row because it says, "I'm willing to put in a mediocre amount of work. You can expect straight B's and C's from me, Teach." and honestly, English isn't my favorite, so being average is probably the most anyone should expect out of me.

I slide into my seat, removing my headphones as my ass meets the chair. The sound of my wallet chain scraping the plastic chair is unexpectedly loud, and the rest of the class turns to look at the idiot dumb enough to break the silence they have all agreed upon. My face heats.

"Sorry."

The girl next to me pinches her face at my apology. I ignore her and pull my laptop from my bag. One of the stickers is peeling up, and I have to resist the urge to rip it off, even though shit like that bugs me. It's like an itch that never goes away until the problem is solved.

"Morning," says a familiar voice. I look up from the offending sticker to see Abel settling in at the front desk. "Professor Connelly is running a little late, so I'll be going over the syllabus with you all." He looks up from setting his own backpack on the tabletop, the Poisonous Winter logo is sloppily painted on the black canvas, and I don't why, but the sloppiness of it is bugging me.

My heart stutters and my mouth falls open. "What the fuck?" I whisper.

The girl next to me cuts me another dirty look.

"Are you our T.A.?" a guy in the front asks.

"I am not. Prof. C is my mentor and just asked me to do this favor for her. She'll be here soon."

Abel starts passing out the syllabus, and it's hard not to miss the reactions a lot of the people are having. And I hate that I'm gushing over Abel just like them.

Like sure, he's one hundred percent my type with his grunge rockery vibe, but I hate that I'm fangirling all over him. My cheeks heat the closer he comes. I'm anticipating when he comes my way. What the hell is wrong with me?

When he does reach my table, our eyes clash, he smiles, my stomach flips, and my breath hitches. My body needs to calm the eff down.

"Nice to see you again, Jesse."

I just nod, because apparently, I don't know words anymore.

Abel makes his way back to the front, talking about what to expect from Dr. Connelly. Somewhere during his speech, my brain starts to malfunction again, and I only hear twenty-five percent of what he is saying.

Dr. Connelly shows up halfway through class. Abel's still talking, but I have no idea about what. Dr. Connelly is tall and thin with a gray streak in her hair like the lady from a clothing makeover show my Nana used to watch when I was younger.

"Sorry, I'm late. My daughter spit up all over the back seat."

She waves at Abel to finish up whatever he's saying before she addresses us. She tells us all about herself. She's a new mom and loves skiing. Abel takes a seat in the front row, apparently, he doesn't have class until eleven, so he's free to just hang out in a class he took his freshmen year.

She has us all stand and introduce ourselves. I don't really listen to the introductions, my eye has caught on my sticker again, and I really want to peel it off, but I have to get another sticker before I do that because the stickerless hole will bother me more than the slightly raised corner of my Nightmare Before Christmas sticker.

Before I know it, class is over and everyone is gathering their laptops and notebooks. I stuff my laptop in my bag and try to rush out the door.

Abel's at the front talking to Dr. Connelly, and he looks over as I pass, smiling--and sweet Jesus, he has dimples.

I scurry out of the room, reminding myself of the deal I made in my head.

No romance. No messy break-ups. This year is for focusing on friends, and school.

Yeah, tell that to my fucking hormones.

★ ★ ★ ★

After my classes for the day, I return to my room just long enough to drop off my bag and grab a day-old donut from the box I got from work the day before.

Just after four, I find myself in a chemistry lab, but I definitely am not here for chemistry (my knowledge in that subject was severely lacking). One good thing about Westbrook is that they have an Aro/Ace Alliance, and it's held every Monday in ChemLab 104.

There are only five people in the Alliance besides myself, and one of them is Adrian, Poisonous Winter's quiet keyboard player. I have the urge to run when I see him, but instead, I sit next to him. He brushes his brown hair out of his face and smiles at me shyly.

"Never seen anyone I actually knew in here," he says.

"To be fair, we only met on Saturday, so technically we're still strangers."

Adrian chuckles, stretching his awkward lanky frame out under the table. "That is fair. Have you met everyone?"

"I literally just walked in."

"You're a bit of a smart ass, aren't you?"

I shrug.

I hate meeting new people, but I promised Nana I would join a club and make friends, and apparently, the photography club doesn't count because that's like a fish going to water. Her words, not mine.

"That's Paxton and Marla. They're dating. She's ace, and Paxton is allo," Adrian says, pointing to the jock-looking guy, and the brunette at his left. Next, he points to a guy with deep brown skin and black hair. "That's Adib. He's Aro like me, but also ace. I still bone from time to time."

I scrunch my face up at the word 'bone'. Gross.

Last, he points to a blond woman with freckles. "That's Holly. She's our president." Holly smiles at me. "She's demi."

They all wait until Adrian is done to greet me with a collective, "hi." My skin begins to crawl with that familiar there are too many people looking at me feeling. I wish I had brought my headphones. My hands start to get clammy, so I stick them under my thighs. I smile nervously, hoping they turn their attention somewhere else.

"Hi, I'm Jesse."

Adrian slings his arm over the back of my chair. "Now we just shoot the shit for an hour." He smiles at me, and I notice one of his front teeth is crooked, overlapping the others. "So, Jesse, tell me all about you."

I swallow. I hate talking about myself, and honestly, I don't even know where to start.

Maybe joining the A/AA was a mistake.