Resentment - (18+)

C2

MIA

When I arrive at Justin's and my spot in the library the following week, I'm surprised that he's already there waiting for me.

Impressed, I take a seat. "Is there a catch to today's session? Is that why you're here early?"

"No." He smiles. "I was actually going to ask you if we could we do an extra hour today? I got an A minus on that last essay."

"Is that not good enough for you or something?"

"It is, but I told you I needed an A, a flat one."

"Really though?"

"Yes, really though." A brief look of concern comes over his face, but it's gone within minutes. "I really have to make an A on all of my next papers to make up for the Cs I made on our first few papers."

I nod, still feeling completely caught off guard.

"Where should we start?" he asks.

"Well," I say, taking out my folder. "Since you're not caught up on the reading, we'll do the work that's currently due and pick up everything else later. Which piece did you pick for the assignment?"

"Macbeth."

"What? You're joking, right?"

"Not at all." He arches a brow. "What's wrong with Macbeth?"

"Nothing, I just..." I pause. "I never would have thought you were the Shakespearean literature type. That's all."

"Well, why is that?"

"Because Shakespeare had a very strange tendency of killing off all of his cocky characters. That, and Macbeth is one of my favorite plays." I admit.

He's silent for a moment, but then he looks at me. "What's your favorite novel?"

"I love way too many to choose just one." I try to direct the conversation back to Macbeth and our assignment, but he stops me.

"Tell me," he says. "What's your favorite novel?"

"I'll have to write you a list. I prefer essays. Such, Such Were the Joys by George Orwell is my top re-read. What's your favorite novel?"

"I don't have one either." He reaches into his bag and pulls out a book. The Art of the Personal Essay. "I read this a lot, though. For pointers, of course. That Orwell essay is actually in here..."

"Okay," I say, stopping myself before I actually continue this line of conversation because there is absolutely no way that we have that in common. "I swear to God, Justin, if this is your attempt to get into my pants-"

"It isn't." He laughs, putting the book away. "Trust me, when I attempt to do that, you won't have any doubts and you'll know for sure."

I'm not sure what comes over me right then, but I actually laugh out loud.

He laughs even louder, and then we can't help but ask each other about our other favorite things, completely ignoring the time. I'm not sure at what point it happens, but we get onto the topic of music and he pulls out his iPod and hands me his earbuds, insisting that he introduce me to some of his favorite bands.

We share all the same ones except two.

It's not until the librarian lets us know that the study room is closing, that I realize we didn't accomplish anything today.

"How about we make it up on another day this weekend?" he asks, helping me put my books away.

"Don't you have football practice?"