sign {h.s.}

kapitel nitton

"PRÓXIMA CLASE TENDRÁN su examen oral," Dr. Martinez announces as we are packing up and preparing for the end of class. Throughout the entire class, a rippling and collective groan sounds; indicative of the joint nerves and annoyance towards the development. [Spanish: Next class you will have an oral exam.]

I myself let out a long sigh as I shove my notebook into my backpack and zipping it up. About to make a beeline for the door, a hand wraps around my arm and stops me in my place. A guy is standing right behind me. Cute, in a nerdy sort of way, I am immediately presented with a messy flop of dark curls. With my attention on him, he pulls away from me as though nervous to have bothered me at all. Nervously, his hand reaches up to push upwards on the dark-rimmed glasses that hadn't even appeared to have slipped. "Hi," his fidgeting continues as he shoves the mop of curls off of his face. "I'm Elijah. Eli. Or, Elijah. Whatever is easier for you," he corrects immediately, extending his hand once more. This time, it's obvious that he wants me to shake it.

"Cassidy," I introduce myself in turn, not certain where he is planning on going with this.

Bouncing on his heels, he is an object continuously in motion. "I sit right behind you," he explains, jamming his thumb in the general direction as though that explains everything. "There's no way of saying this that doesn't really seem creepy, but I've seen your grades and stuff. You're doing really well and I'm... not. I was hoping that you would maybe help me study for the exam? I know we don't really know each other, but I am beginning to think that you might be my last hope. All my friends took French."

His tendency to ramble is equally as endearing as his fidgeting. Finally, I take more of a conscious look at him. Bright blue eyes study me through the fingerprint-smudged lenses of his glasses. He doesn't tower over me, and his shoulders hunch inwards as though he is exceptionally nervous even to be speaking to me. Just a look at him and I know that I've stumbled on a very nervous freshman. For some reason, I find this to be enough of a reason to give him a chance.

Immediately I am nodding my head. "That would be great." Quickly I look down at my phone to check the time. "This is actually my last class of the day. We can study now, if you want?"

He nods his head instantly, the movement causing his mess of curls to bounce everywhere. A grateful look overtakes his face as he smiles widely at me, "thank you so much," his thanks are exceptionally genuine. Relief colors across his face as he shoulders his bag to follow me out of the classroom. Not even two steps have been taken before he is back to rambling again, "I'm okay on paper, I guess. Like, when I am writing it and reading it, I'm okay at understanding the language. It's a lot less stressful than talking to someone. I just get nervous talking to people in general. Especially people that I hardly know. Doubly so when it is not in my native language." He admits, brushing his hair off of his face again.

I wave him off, "really, it's no problem. But, do you mind if we go back to my room? My laptop is dangerously close to dying and I forgot the charger."

Unsurprisingly, Elijah is very quick to agree with me. I suspect he would follow me to the bottom of the ocean if he thought that it would help get him a better grade, somehow.

The walk to my dorm is filled with small talk. Mostly, it's led by Elijah. As I had suspected, he is a freshman. He's from Massachusetts and we bonded about the fifteen minute drive between our hometowns and marveled at the fact that we have some mutual friends, despite the fact that we had never even heard of each other until today. If college has taught me anything, it's that the world is significantly smaller than I had originally thought it to be.

By the time we are in front of my building, we've gotten to know each other pretty well. "Fair warning," I say as we climb up the stairs to the third floor of my dorm building, "I'm not sure if my roommate is going to be around, but if she is, you should probably know that she is Deaf. Also, there is a very high chance that my room is going to be very messy." The second thought prompts itself as more of a courteous afterthought, but something that I figure that I should tell him nonetheless. The prior of the two warnings seemed significantly more necessary to tell him.