Ramen

Day

It was official, Dr. Stevenson was my favorite professor. I'd only sat through one class, but it was fifty minutes of perfection. The professor was cracking jokes almost every other sentence and bouncing off the walls. I wasn't even majoring in philosophy, but my rule was to take at least one class per semester that would 'broaden my horizons.'

Speaking of horizons, the one stretched out in front of me seemed an eternity away. The library loomed just on the edge of said horizon, but I had to pick up coffee before I got there. Running late: the one thing I excel in.

I burst through the doors of our local space themed coffee shop. The barista at the counter, who didn't appear too eager to be seen wearing a star trek nock off costume, glanced up from her cracked iPhone just long enough to say "Welcome to area 51, where the coffee is out of this world."

"Um, I'll take two small supernovas with an extra shot of stardust," I urged.

Ten minutes. Ten minutes to 'make' black coffee with a shot of mint flavoring.

As I pushed past the doors I muttered, "I hope you get fired."

At last I arrived at the library, a tall gloomy brick building on the far side of campus. There was something unfriendly about the library. It might have been the draft or maybe the librarians who look at everyone like they're a delinquent, but all I knew is that I would not be staying long.

As I walked to the usual meeting place, I counted one head too many. Julie's head whipped around without hesitation. She has the amazing ability to sense the instant people arrive.

"Heeeeeeyyyy Ash!" she blurted out, "I have someone to introduce you to!"

The foreign head turned around. It belonged to a bashful boy around our age. He was a little lanky and his hair was perfectly spiked. He was kind of cute in a nerdy way.

"Uh... Hi?" I began.

He stood abruptly almost knocking over his chair. He awkwardly fidgeted then thrust his hand out to shake mine.

"H-hey, I'm Will, I mean William! But uh, I guess people call me Will," he sputtered.

Something about him seemed familiar, but before I had time to respond, Julie was yanking me down the row of bookshelves. 

"Sorry Will, Ashley is late for a studying session with me! Maybe you'll see each other later," Julie wailed.

Thus began an hour of torture: teaching the unteachable.