Flashcards On The Wall

Chapter 39: Beating Heart

The next week I go to my first class. This time it's my nerves that don't let me sleep the night before. I lay in my bed wondering if I'll end up talking myself out of showing up like I did every day of the previous week. The thought of being surrounded by classmates in confined space makes me feels nauseous. I told my professors and my employers I had a personal emergency. That bought a few days but I was still expected back. What was a personal emergency? Did not wanting to breathe, think, feel, see, do, say, be, exist count?

I arrive twenty minutes early as modestly dressed as I could be even though it's eighty degrees outside. I took my time choosing an outfit. Tossing aside anything that could be considered in any way revealing. I was even patient while applying my makeup. Not a lot but I told myself I needed just enough so my sleepless nights weren't obvious. The last time I looked in the mirror before leaving I asked myself if I succeeded. Would anyone be able to tell?

Now, being the only person in this classroom I am left with a decision. Do I take my usual seat in the second row next to the classmates I've on occasion made small talk with? I do. One by one my classmates arrive. Lucky for me only the seat to my right is taken up, the one to my left stays vacant. Dana the girl to my right asks about my absence. I lie and tell her I was sick. Satisfied with my answer. She asks nothing more. About thirty minutes into the lecture I realize I'm not taking notes. Instead I watch the students. Some with laptops are following along, the words on their screen making that obvious. Dana is one. Others are browsing online. One is on their phone, likely messaging. Another asking a question. A few watch the professor, clearly absorbing the lecture. I hear someone sneeze in the row behind me. I'm startled by it. The guy behind me makes a comment to the professor. A few students laugh. What did he say? I wonder to myself. I tense up. I no longer hear what is being said. My hearts beats faster. Each beat more pronounced than the one before. My palms get sweaty. I watch them and try to wipe them on my jeans. It doesn't go away. Meanwhile, the beats get louder. Stronger. Too strong, I think. This is bad. Something is wrong.

I turn to Dana, "Dana, would you do me a huge favor and email me your notes after class?"

"Sure," she answers, "Is everything okay?"

"I have to go," I say, "Thank you."

Twenty seconds later I'm in the lobby of the building. I place my palms, one over the other, on my chest. Over my heart. Be still, I think. Please be still. It doesn't work. Is this a heart attack? Is this what happens before your heart explodes?

I hear steps in the hallway.

Please stop. Please stop. Please stop. I tell my heart wishing it was voice activated.

"Well would you look at that?" I hear.

Trevor's voice is clear but I for a moment I think I imagined it. It isn't until I look in his direction that I'm sure it's him standing feet away.

"Hi," I say.

"Are you praying?" Trevor asks.

"Something like that," I answer.

"To each their own," he tells me.

The pounding continues but I don't want to say anything about it.

"What brings you by?" I ask.

"Office hours," he answers, "You?"

"Class," I say standing up and moving passed him.

"Hey," Trevor calls out, "Can you spare a couple minutes to catch up? Maybe over coffee?"

"I'm off of caffeine right now," I answer. It isn't a lie.

"Okay, how about something else? A meal? Drinks? Last I checked you were good company for all those," he says.

"Raincheck?" I ask.

"Let me know when and where," he tells me.

"I will," I lie and race to my car.

I sit in my car fifteen minutes. That's when the beating eases. I'm tempted to go home. Instead I go to the library and review for my next class.

When Tash asks about my day. I tell her it was good. I don't mention the incident. My routine becomes simple. If I don't have class, I'm home.