Forbidden Literature

23| Signatures and Muffins

I had planned on doing something productive before I had to face Jasper, but instead I spent majority of my time in the library moping and throwing down blueberry muffins. Suffocating my discomfort in calorie loaded pastries has always been a weakness of mine. There was something about the sugary taste slipping down my throat that made me feel better. This was probably why in middle school I was overweight before discovering not all my problems can be solved at the bottom of the cookie jar. Still, old habits die hard. And today was no exception.

In truth, the situation could be worse. I could be spending twenty hours with Jasper every week, but I knew that if I couldn't handle seeing him for less than five minutes, eight hours was going to be just as torturous as twenty.

I groaned inwardly, eight hours out of my week spent with the source of my unhappiness for the past three months. He will no longer be out of reach, but right next to me, addressing me and acknowledging my existence. After months of avoiding him now I was meeting him head on with no exit route. I sent a silent curse to Dr. Porter for the fifth time hoping he slips on ice on his way to work this morning. Service hours? Seriously? Does he not see how cranky the education program is because of service hours? For a smart man he sure made horrible decisions.

My thoughts traveled to imagining myself as an assistant. How the hell is this going to work? Should I avoid talking to him the whole time unless absolutely necessary? Maybe he will deny my request and refer me to another professor. That way we can move along and I can graduate with no distractions. I should want that. But even the thought of him refusing to sign the form sent my heart into an anxious flurry.

I threw down another blueberry muffin.

After contemplating whether or not I really wanted to graduate in May my phone went off informing me that Sara had texted me. Apparently she was going to be home late tonight because she had some tutoring sessions later on.

At least someone got the memo.

After I replied letting her know that it was fine because I'm moving out of the country anyway I saw the time staring back at me. I had ten minutes left until it was time to see Jasper.

Suddenly I didn't want my fifth blueberry muffin anymore.

Instead I gathered my things, straightened my wrinkly sweatshirt as much as possible, and marched towards his classroom located in the Porter Hall English building not too far away. It was just my luck that on the day I finally see Jasper I am dressed like a homeless person because I was in such a rush this morning I didn't think my outfit through. I am almost positive that I had a barbecue stain on the front of my shirt from last week. "Just saving it for later," Granny would always say.

My heart gave a squeeze at the thought of her. I needed her now more than ever and she was probably off somewhere in Seattle raising Cain at a grocery store for advertising things grammatically incorrect. The three days I spent with her months ago was not long enough. I needed her undying support and confidence that she instills in me. Although I know she would probably encourage me to talk to Jasper and discuss what happened, I wasn't ready. I'm not sure I really want the truth because no matter how you looked at it, as long as I'm a student it doesn't matter what went down--the rules would never allow us together.

With a sigh I looked down at the small slip of paper reading the room number multiple times as if it would change on me. Apparently he was located on the third floor and after eating so many muffins I didn't feel like climbing the stairs. I took the elevator trying to ignore the screaming irony of it all. Dissecting hidden meanings in literature for several of years does something to your perception after awhile.

Once the doors slid back with a loud creak revealing the third floor the familiar flutter in my chest returned. This was really happening now. Finding the will to take a step out of the elevator instead of hiding inside was more difficult than I thought it would be.