If I Let Go

5

I don't reply immediately. Every part of my being is screaming a bloody yes but a small voice is warning me not to  fall for this unattainable man.

"Sure," I say finally. Well, who said its a crime to live a little?

***
I am ready to call it a day when it reaches 3 p.m. I have been able to get the essays halfway done despite watching funny clips online and occasionally replying to Marks texts. He tells me he thinks he has studied enough material to earn him a college degree so he will exit the library wing too.

Are you sure? You don't have to leave on my account

His reply comes immediately:

It's not like I have not been paying attention in class. You can quiz me if you like.

Fun as that sounds, no. Hire a tutor.

Yes ma'am. Meet you at the parking lot?

Sure. Heading out now.

I lock up the office and walk in the direction of the almost deserted parking lot. The school hallways are nearly empty too except for a handful of students who are perched up on chairs in a corner probably to access better WiFi connection. As I walk past, I hear one of them say hi. I turn and find it’s a girl from a class I used to lecture last year.

“How are you? It's Claire, right?" I shake her small hand. She shakes her head no and laughs briskly.

"It's Charlotte," she corrects. "It was a big class. You probably don't remember."

“Sorry, its my fault. I am getting forgetful in my old age," I joke and she smiles politely. Charlotte seems one of those nice and not usually troublesome students. She is almost my height but looks underweight in the deep blue chiffon dress paired with black tights.

"Good day, Miss Zungu." Charlotte waves and resumes her seat.

I realize she looks familiar because she was used to raising her hand to ask all sorts of questions to the point that her classmates no longer found it irritating and thought it was a bit quirky.

"Good day too, Charlotte." I smile back and continue walking. I arrive at the parking lot and get in my car.  My door is still unlocked and as I wait for Mark, I busy myself with glossing my lips once more.

Once done, I text June:

Going to get lunch or maybe coffee with lover boy!

I don't expect to get a reply from her anyway so I continue scrolling through my phone. Seconds later, a tap on my shoulder startles me.

"You scared the living shit out of me!" I gasp and Mark laughs.

"How did it go with your essays?"

"I did my best." I briefly cast a glance at the bag I dumped haphazardly at the back seat. "And you?"

“I studied a little. Not fun but its better than a day at the office," he replies and glances at his watch. "We can do lunch if you don't have plans. Personally I am famished."

I tell Mark lunch would be a good idea but I have somewhere to get to afterwards. He says it's fine and we would only just drive to a cool restaurant about three kilometers away.

In reality, I want to drive home, do some cleaning that I have neglected over the weekend and get an early night to save up all my energy for the week ahead.

"Isn't it weird that I have been going to this school for two years now and our paths never crossed?" Mark asks when we have both ordered and cleaned our hands with steaming towels.

“Well, it's a big school."

Its true. St. Patricks may be a newly established institution but does have very impressive infrastructure and competitive courses to offer. It therefore comes as no surprise that it has a bigger population than most of the neighboring schools.

" And I am not exactly popular," I add.

“Very likely about the first one."

He studies me, a bit too intensely that I begin to feel a little self conscious.