Matters of Heroes (Delayed)

I: A Sinking Feeling

June 7, 2012
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It was finally over. Stuffing the books in my bag, I stood up from my seat in the Assembly Hall. My back cracked as I twisted from side to side, and I sighed in relief each time it did. After sitting through a lecture for the past seventy-five minutes, it really did feel good to stand.

I scanned the large room, listening to the echoes of my fellow students conversing as they left the hall. Some had other classes to attend. Others had jobs to get to. Luckily for me, I had the afternoon off, which was the reason I loved Thursdays.

My professor still sat up on the stage, looking tired and a bit disgruntled, but that was to be expected. The closer the end of the week was, the more tired everyone felt. That was just the way of things.

I pulled my bookbag over my left shoulder and refused to put the other strap over my right. I began the climb up to the exit, having sat near the stage. The later you arrived at the hall, the further forward you'd have to sit. My peers were all like-minded, knowing that after the lecture ended, the crowd to get out the door could be avoided if you sat next to them. I didn't blame anyone for that logic. If it was possible for me to arrive any earlier, I'd probably do the same.

The clock on the wall read half-past-three, its odd red hands pointing loyally as always. Many times, I'd wished harm upon that clock as my professors droned on in a way that made me question if they were truly awake at all. Those stupid hands seemed to move so slowly during times like that.

With a glare, I passed by the clock and out the doors, into the warm, but breezy air of the city. Of course, the smell of trash and smoke hit me immediately. Many of my peers, being in their late teens and early twenties, did not care about keeping the campus clean. Though it was prohibited on campus, many smoked right outside the hall. I was just glad they didn't try it inside.

As I walked down the street away from the Assembly Hall building, I thought about the smaller lecture halls and how unusual it was for our class to gather in a building meant for graduations and performances. I did enjoy it, though. Once a month, my professor liked to use the building, showcasing his latest attempt at a PowerPoint slideshow on a wider surface than a normal wall.

I couldn't help but grin at the thought of that.

As I continued to walk, my bag suddenly began to vibrate, and a moment later, an overly gleeful melody joined in. My phone.

I pulled my bag around and reached into the front pocket. Rummaging around, it took me longer than it should have to grab the device, a Nokia 7200, and check who was calling. To my surprise, my brother's name was listed.

I flipped the phone open as fast as I could. Brayton never called me. He always said that talking in-person was the best way to get a point across, or to deliver a message. I told him he was being stubborn.

"Anaya?" His voice came through with quite a bit of static. I could hear traffic in the background, and also voices. "Hello?"

It took me a second to remember to speak. "Hey Brayton," I said a moment later, still trying to think of all the possible reasons why he could have called. "What's up?"

He waited for a second before answering. I put my hand against my opposite ear to try and hear his voice over all the static. "Hey, I wanted to tell you that I'm at that restaurant you like so much." Restaurant? My brother was calling me to tell me about a restaurant? "The one with the view of the Grand Central. You know?"

"Yeah, I know the place you're talking about. Why?" Brayton had recently started working in a department store part-time. I couldn't remember if he worked Thursdays or not, but even if he didn't, the last place I'd expect to see him was there.