It All Started With A Pen

I can't wait for Thanksgiving break. I loved college, but it got tiring. During Thanksgiving break, I could see my sister, who was living in a tiny apartment a couple of hours away. Big improvement from the calls every other night. Yeah, I call my sister a lot. We have a weird relationship, and whenever I tell people they don't believe me. We actually love each other. Shocker, right?

"C'mon slowpoke!' Zara calls from downstairs, drawing out the slow. "We're gonna be late!" 

"Coming!" I pull on my favorite pair of shoes, short maroon booties with a brass buckle on each side. I pretend to strut down the hallway of our apartment and pose at the bottom, blowing a kiss to Zara. She laughs and hits me gently over the head with my notebook before handing it to me. 

"You ruined my fishtail!" I exclaim playfully as we walk out the door.

"Shut up, it was never good to begin with," she jokes back, giving me a light shove. This was the only class we had together, mostly because she was a night person and I wasn't. Amber was, though. Stop thinking about Amber and focus. You act like she's dead and not 1,000 miles away. We reach the sturdy brick building, and I walk in and settle myself in a seat in the third row. Zara sits right in front of me. That's how it was since first grade, because she isn't that short, but shorter than me. It was our way to pass notes and talk while still being able to pay attention. I smile as Casey sits next to me, yawning.

"Morning Sunshine," I say and she scowls at me. If I was a morning person, Casey was the thing farthest away. This 10am class was actually the latest class for this subject, Human Rights and Literature. Even though I want to go into economy, this really interests me, so I took it. Don't ask me why. Casey groans and rests her head on her desk.

"Kill me, now. Please."

I laugh. "Gladly!" I joke I was about to say something else when they walked in. Or as we called them, The Primes(don't ask why, I don't even know). "The Primes" consisted of Dean Wilson, Bex Yoversky, and (cue the dreamy eyes) Adam Underway. I like to point out to my friends that if Dean's last name started with a G, their initials would spell BAD GUY, so we should call them the Bad Guys. But none of them listen to me, of course, because they're too busy drooling over their gorgeous faces. College was very different from high school, but certain aspects of it still existed similarly. Although "popular" wasn't really a thing here, being popular with the ladies definitely was. And these guys are perfect examples.

Dean plops down two seats behind me, Adam in front and Bex to the side . This class was set up weirdly, instead of the big emporium, lecture hall type, it was set up in a small classroom. And I have never been so grateful for that than I am now, with Adam not even a foot away from me.

Adam Underway is right behind me oh my gosh. Good think I did my hair this morning. I might be mature, but mature girls can have crushes, too. Zara and Casey both shoot me meaningful looks and hide their smirks. Oh, so now Casey's awake. Hmph. I swear to God if they say anything... Adam's deep voice breaks into my thoughts.

"Hey," he says, and I sigh internally. If only he would talk to me. Okay, maybe it's a little bigger than a crush. "Hey, um," he says again, and taps me on my shoulder. 

"Um, yeah?" I ask, trying not to sound like a complete idiot who is desperately in love with him.

"Do you have a pen I can borrow?" he asks, and I almost faint.   

"What he means to ask is if you have a number," Dean calls tackily from behind him, and him and Bex laugh as if it's the funniest thing in the world while Adam shoots them a glare. I wish he meant that. I ignore them so I don't do something very embarrassing and very Ashley, like blurting out my phone number. 
"Yeah." I dig through my black faux leather bag, before handing him the best pen I can find.