I hate science with a passion. Which Isaac thinks is weird because I like doing things like putting Mentos in Coca-Cola bottles to see the explosion and making homemade slime. But I guess those don’t really count as college-level experiments as much as they’re considered kindergarten games.
In order to play those games with five-year-olds in an educational setting, however, I have to pass the college-level part. That includes my very first biology exam, which I don’t feel prepared for. Hence, why I’m studying Mendel’s Laws and genetics vocabulary while my lit professor is talking about Dante’s Inferno.
Wait. That’s not right. We finished that last week. He’s talking about Everyman, a 15th century play that examines the Christian faith and what man must to do obtain eternal life.
It’s not a bad play. I didn’t fall asleep while reading it over the weekend. But it wasn’t riveting either, which actually works to my advantage because I don’t want to pay attention to the discussion anyway. I have the principle of segregation to brush up on.
Which I don’t understand. At all.
I am in so much trouble.
“I don’t remember a guy named Mendel in the play.” Mia keeps her eyes on the professor as she whispers to me. She’s practically bundled up like an Eskimo today—thick jacket, scarf, beanie with a pompom on top, pulled low over her ears. It’s always cold in here, but she’s taking it a little too far.
“It’s Mendel’s Laws,” I whisper back. She blinks at me, my words obviously not computing. “The analysis of genetics?” Still nothing. “Didn’t you take Biology I?”
She peeks over at my notes. “Oh!” And there’s the lightbulb. “I knew the name was familiar. I hated that class.”
“Is there a problem, ladies?”
Mia snaps to attention, her spine pencil-straight at the boom of our professor’s voice startling her.
I shake my head and smile. “No sir. Just making sure we caught it all. I got Fellowship and Goods. I missed Knowledge.”
He squints his eyes and pauses, trying to determine if I’m lying. We both know that I am, but even I’m impressed with how fast I’m able to pull those key points out of thin air. Unless he wants to come up here and see what I’m writing to prove I’m not really paying attention, we both know it’s not worth calling my bluff. Quickly, he comes to that same conclusion and continues on with the lecture.
As he paces to the other side of the room, Mia breathes out slowly. “Thanks. I can’t get kicked out of class again. I almost lost three credit hours last semester for that.”
Fantastic. I’m sitting next to the one person at this whole university who gets dropped from classes because she can’t stop talking.
I don’t respond, hoping she catches the hint that I don’t want to chit-chat right now. I want to pretend to listen to the lecture while I study and stay in the professor’s good graces. Unfortunately, I have no such luck when she leans back to stretch.
I hear her soft gasp and know something exciting just happened in her world, and I’m about to learn all about it, whether I want to or not.
“You know Isaac Stevens?”
Glancing up from my notes, I take in the excitement on her face.
“Only someone really important to a player, like, really important, like a girlfriend gets to wear a player’s team sweatshirt,” she practically hisses, grabbing my arm. I pull away slowly and take in my outfit.
It never occurred to me when I grabbed Isaac’s old hoodie from freshman year, the one he grew out of, that anyone would think anything about it. It’s nothing special. Just the ratty one I wear around the house when I feel chilled. I thought I was showing school spirit like a normal student who buys clothes from one of the university stores. Guess not.
“How did you know that? It’s just a hoodie,” I whisper.
“It has his name and number embroidered right on the front.” She points at the emblem, getting awfully close to my boob. Slow down there, tiger. “Only the uniforms worn by the players have that.”
Huh. I never put that together. Before I can get another word out, she squeals quietly and grabs my arm again. Does this girl have no boundaries?
Actually, I know the answer to that. I’ve been sitting next to her for over a week now. She’s not hard to peg.
“Are you dating him?” she pries excitedly. I open my mouth, but she keeps going before I can answer. “I didn’t know he was into older women. I bet there’s so much you can teach him, if you know what I mean.” She wiggles her eyebrows, making me grimace at her implications. “I hear football players have a lot of stamina.”
“Okay, stop,” I interrupt, putting my hand on top of hers. “Yes, I know him. No, I’m not dating him. I’ll tell you more later, but stop talking before you get us kicked out.”
She sits up and mimics zipping her lips, just as the man in charge turns again and begins walking to our side of the room again. I go back to pretending to listen while I study, and Mia goes back to doing whatever she does when she’s not using up all the oxygen in the room.
Her silence is practically deafening. Unfortunately, it does nothing to help me feel like I’m accomplishing any sort of learning. Science just isn’t my thing.
The sounds of bags being packed breaks my concentration, and I realize my time is up. I have about fifteen minutes until my first college biology exam and nervous doesn’t even begin to describe how I feel. Mia, however, despite the fact that she can probably spot a football player’s embroidery from a hundred yards away, isn’t astute enough to notice my attempt at a mad dash. Go figure.
“So, if you’re not dating him, how do you know Isaac Stevens?” I should have known she wouldn’t let it go.
I smile brightly at her, even though I don’t really want to go there, knowing once the rumor mill starts, I’ll be getting a call from my son. He’s not ashamed of me, quite the opposite. He just doesn’t want to be razzed by his teammates. I get it.
No, I don’t. I’ve never been a twenty-year-old boy. But I understand his reasoning for not making a production out of it. Mia here, she will definitely be making a production out of it. I just smile politely, like my lovely mother taught me, and answer her.
“He’s my son.”
Mia squeals and throws her hands over her mouth, bouncing on her toes. “Ohmygod, are you kidding me?” She grabs my arm again, her mouth dropping open like an amazing thought just crossed her mind. “I’ve been hanging out with Isaac Stevens’s mother?”
I quickly shrug her off again, reaching for my things. I have fifteen minutes to cram while walking. I don’t have time for this conversation. Actually, I wouldn’t want to have this conversation even if I didn’t have a test to get to.
“I wouldn’t say we’ve been hanging out, Mia. We’re in a class together.” I maintain my smile for politeness as I try to refocus her.
“But we talk all the time,” she continues, a starry-eyed look taking over her eyes. “Isaac is the cutest. Ohmygod, could you introduce me to him?”
Oh good. The first person to figure out my connection with the Vikings football team, and it’s the groupie who’s practically determined to get me expelled from my lit class, right along with her.
“Maybe sometime,” I concede, trying to brush her off as I throw my satchel over my shoulder and pick up my notebook. Her eyes light up like I’ve agreed to set her up on a date with my son. Which I didn’t. And won’t. “But listen, Mia, I have to run. I have an exam in”—checking my Fitbit, I realize I’m running out of time—“thirteen minutes. I have to go.”
“Okay,” she calls behind me as I race up the stairs. She was so sidetracked by the idea of my son, she hasn’t packed up her things yet. This is bad. Very bad. “We’ll talk more about it in a couple days.”
No, we won’t, I think to myself. Who Isaac dates is up to him, but if I ever set him up, it’s not going to be someone who uses up that many words every day. I know Mia is lovely in her own ways, but she needs a few more years to mature. Like maybe a decade or so.
Walking out the door, it takes my eyes a second to adjust to the sunlight. I only have, oh no, twelve minutes. I need to book it.
Staring at my notebook, I begin reading through my genetics vocabulary again as I walk, making sure there are no key pieces of information I’m forgetting. I have no idea if vocabulary will even be on the test, but if I don’t understand the words, I’m screwed either way.
Suddenly, I walk right into a wall.
“Oof!”
It all happens like it’s in slow motion. My notebook goes sailing through the air. My bag bursts open and things pop out. My arms fly up as I tumble backward. But before I can hit the ground, strong hands grip my arms.
“Shit! Are you all right?” his deep voice inquires.
Jack Pride. For the second time in as many weeks, I’ve literally run into him on this sidewalk in front of this building.
I have never been more embarrassed in my life.
He sets me upright and leans down to grab my things.
“I am so sorry,” I declare, feeling the heat rush through my face. I hope he can’t see the blush. “That’s twice I wasn’t watching where I was going.”
He chuckles and stands, handing me my notebook and the pens that apparently hit the ground when we collided. It could be worse. Those pens could be tampons.
“Don’t be so quick to blame yourself. I was sending a text instead of paying attention.”
“Oh.” There’s something I was supposed to be doing, but suddenly I’m sidetracked by the movement of Jack’s biceps while he runs his hands through his hair.
His salt-and-pepper hair, that was hidden under a ball cap until he took it off.
To run his fingers through it.
Oh my. I can’t even have coherent thoughts around this man. What is happening to me?
“I hope I didn’t hurt you,” he says with a smile.
My brain finally seems to kick back in. “Oh! Oh, no. I’m fine. Just embarrassed. This is why I don’t walk and chew bubble gum.”
He smiles, so I think he caught my lame attempt at a joke.
“What has you distracted anyway?” He gestures to the notebook in my hands.
“Biology. I have my first test, and I’m a little nervous about it.”
“Science isn’t your thing?”
“Not at all,” I admit. “But it’s a necessary evil. I’m trying to do my best.”
He leans in to me and lowers his voice. “I’ll let you in on a little secret.”
His scent has me feeling all googly. That’s not even a word, but it’s how he makes me feel. He smells like cologne and mint and a little bit of sweat. But not in a bad way. More of a musky way. I find myself angling toward him to hear this revelation. “What?”
“Typically, the students that make the best grades are the ones who took a few years off before they came here. It’s like they want it more.” He smiles at me and I go all googly again. “I’m betting you’re going to ace this test.”
Well isn’t that one of the nicest things anyone has said to me on this campus?
I lean back and smile at him. “Thank you. I needed that boost of confidence. I’ve been way more nervous than I should be over some dumb vocabulary.”
“I get it,” he remarks with a shrug. “When you want something that badly, your nerves can take over. Just take a deep breath before you start and stay focused. You’ll do fine.”
It’s cute how he goes into coaching mode as he encourages me. It’s exactly what I needed. Especially since I have . . .
I get a glimpse of my Fitbit again.
“Oh shoot! I have to be there in nine minutes!”
I bend over to grab the last remaining item off the sidewalk that he initially missed. Oh good. It is a tampon. I knew that sucker wouldn’t stay concealed in my time of embarrassment.
“Hey, I know you have to run,” he asserts, politely ignoring the feminine product in my hand, “and this might sound crazy, since I don’t even know your name. But we seem to keep running into each other so, what the hell, would you like to have coffee with me?”
That stops me dead in my tracks. “Me?”
He takes stock of our surroundings. “Well, yeah. I don’t see anyone else around I’m interested in conversing with.”
There aren’t many people around at all. Classes are about to start, and I’m going to be very, very late if I don’t hurry up. Apparently, Jack misunderstands the concern on my face when his eyes get wide and he pales a bit, which is hard to do with his tan.
“Oh fuck. I’m sorry,” he quickly says. “I didn’t think about the fact that you could be married. I’m so sorry.”
I feel my own eyes widen, but I don’t have time to put much thought into anything except reassuring him and getting to class. “No! No, I’m not married.” I hold up my left hand to show him my bare fingers, like it’s proof or something. It seems to work because he visibly relaxes. “Um, sure. I could go for some coffee.”
The smile that crosses his face makes me go all googly once again. “Great! I assume you have a car?” I nod. “There’s a fantastic coffee shop about three miles from campus. Down on Northend Road. Aptly called Northend Coffee.”
“Yeah, I’ve seen it driving in.”
“It’s far enough from campus that usually only locals hang out there. Meet me there? Say around one?”
I bite back another smile. When I drove in today, I noticed the coffee shop. I was planning to stop there on my way home to study for a while, but this sounds much better.
“I’ll be there. But I really do have to go. I don’t want to be rude but I have . . .” Glancing at my Fitbit again, I grimace. I’m going to have to run now, and I hate exercise of any kind.
“I know. Go,” he says kindly, and I turn away, beginning my jog. “Good luck! Remember to focus!”
I wave over my shoulder and hold onto my satchel as it bounces. I’m feeling strangely confident in my scientific knowledge now, and I have a date with Coach Jack Pride.
Poor Mia would never stop talking if she caught wind of this.