Noted

Chapter 7

The sound of ticking clocks, tapping pens, turning pages and squeaking chairs were all I could hear as I tried to finish the last question of my final exam of the semester. How was it already the end of a huge part of my first year at NYU? I felt like it had passed by so fast, and not just because I had a ton homework to do every weekend. There was so much to do, that time just felt like limits and deadlines rather than something to treasure and enjoy. Yes, I liked being exactly where I was, but sometimes I just felt like my whole mind was being taken over by responsibilities and obligations that I couldn't feel anything other than the caffeine rushing through my veins while desperately trying to keep myself awake from all the exhaustion.

My eyes were closing on their own. I looked across a few seats to see Troy seemingly in the same situation as I was; we were both done with the exam well before most of the others. I tapped my pen to the rhythm of the seconds before time was up. It took a few more taps for the bell to ring, but I eventually ended my semester of endless work and determination, and could finally enjoy some well deserved freedom.

"Please place your exams on my desk on your way out, and I wish a wonderful Christmas break to you all," Mrs. Foster said to the class with a very dull tone as if she was scrooge and Christmas was a load of bullshit.

Troy caught up with me as we walked towards the doors, ready to free ourselves from school for a little while. "Hey, how did you think you did?" he asked, as soon as he caught up to me.

"I think I passed," I said, "You?"

"Same," he answered confidentially. "Are you still com-ing over later? My mom is making one of her favourite dishes, and she really wants to meet you."

"Why does she want to meet me?"

"She wants to meet my friends, and since she thinks I have a lot of them, I have to at least bring the only friend I actually do have to prove to her that I'm not a loser."

I was a friend. Well, I was...technically.

I let out a chuckle. "As if your mom would ever think you're a loser."

"So, you're coming right?" Troy insisted.

"Yeah, I'll come," I surrendered with some hesitation. I hated meeting the parents of any of my friends because it always meant that I had to reach new levels of expectations; a lot of the times expectations too high to ever attain. With Troy, it was different so, I decided to go.

"Cool, I'll come pick you up at your house," he said. "Around seven?"

"Sure, see you then."

Troy smiled and went his separate way, bringing his fist up to the sky in victory. I didn't think he realized that I saw him do that, so I laughed to myself.

"Quinn, may I speak with you?" Mr. Corey suddenly appeared as he stepped in front of me, stopping me in my tracks, again. He always appeared out of nowhere.

"Yes, of course," I replied.

"I wanted to let you know, I got a reply," he said, almost teasing me with anticipation, but I was more concerned than anything. All this physical touching and first name calling was a little too weird for a teacher-student kind of relationship.

"Are you talking about what I think you're talking about?" I asked.

"You guessed it," he replied. "The Times loved you!"

"You're messing with me, right?" I asked, stunned. I couldn't believe it; I thought I was going to pass out. Suddenly, all my concerns about Mr. Corey had vanished.

"I swear, I'm not," he said, placing his right hand over his heart, and his left on my arm. "Heck, they loved your submission letter so much, they accepted your application for an internship after Christmas break. They really think you'd be a great addition to the team."