Getting together with the girls again was just what I needed to unwind after a long, strenuous week of school. It was a way overdue outing, but the gang was finally back together, picking up where we last left off like no time had passed. While I saw Addison every day in the apartment, it was good to have all the ladies together at the same time. The truth was, however, that something did happen since we last got together. A guy who I thought cared about me ripped my heart out, threw it to the ground, and destroyed it.

The remedy for this was a much-needed trip to Viper, an eccentric nightclub in midtown that we used to frequent a lot when I was still too young to drink. It was one of those underground establishments, practically hidden in an alley, and it was really only geared towards Las Positas University students. Occasionally, a few random people from the town would show up, but it was rare.

Tonight, all I wanted to do was drink with my friends, but I could tell by the looks on their faces, I’d already taken it a little far.

“Okay McKinley, I think it’s time to lay off the shots for a little,” Evie said, pulling my sixth glass away from my mouth.

“What? I can throw back ten of these and be totally fine,” I said, snatching it back.

“I don’t want to be your designated driver,” Evie retorted, yanking the glass back toward her again and slamming it on the table.

“Fine,” I said, looking back at an interesting couple on the dancefloor who were now twerking to a house song.

“So, what’s been going on with everybody?” Holden asked the table.

I turned back to my friends. “Well, let me fill you in on the drama that’s been my life. So, you guys remember that night we went to Frankie’s and I bailed out on going to the club because I said I wasn’t feeling well?”

“How could we forget? You acted like a weirdo,” Evie said with a laugh.

“Well, that was a lie.”

Holden rolled her eyes. “No kidding, dummy. How stupid do you think we are?”

“Alright! Jeez! But remember that hot guy that was at the bar? Like literally, right after you guys left, I stayed behind and approached him. We ended up spending some time together, and one thing led to another, and we… had sex.”

“Shut up!” Dacia exclaimed, her mouth agape.

“Yeah. But that’s just the tip of the iceberg…” I proceeded to regale them with the whole sordid affair, everything that happened with Knight from beginning to the horrible end. By the time I finished, their jaws were practically on the floor.

“And when he dropped me, it just came completely out of left field,” I went on. “He didn’t try to cushion the blow or anything. And I was just so taken aback by how he said it. Just super blasé. Then, he basically tells me that I never meant anything to him and that it was one big farce.”

“Oh my god! What a douchebag!” Addison said, crossing her arms and clutching them angrily. It was as if the rage inside me transferred across the table and into her.

“That’s really low,” Dacia said, shaking her head and staring down at the table with widened eyes.

“It sucks,” I said, wiping away a stray tear from my cheek. “But even though he stomped on my feelings in such a cruel way… I still care about the jerk. I couldn’t turn it off.”

“Of course, you can’t,” Evie said understandingly. “But based on what you’re telling us about how insensitive he was to you… I don’t think it’s worth it.”

“Yeah, honey, it’s not,” Addison said confidently. “Don’t even for a second think that there may be hope on the horizon. A guy like that? You don’t need him. Period. Why didn’t you tell me about this clown?”

“I guess I didn’t want to jinx anything,” I said, which was a ludicrous excuse.

“McKinley, this guy led you on, big time,” Holden said, Dacia nodding in agreement. “He’s not worth your time, your consideration, your anything. I can tell that a part of you still wants him. I think you should just cut your losses.”

I let out a long, heavy sigh, fraught with gloom. As much as it killed me to admit, there was no way around it.

“I guess you guys are right,” I said sadly. “But class. Oh god, what am I going to do about class?”

One thing everyone could agree on: no one had idea what I should do for the rest of the semester. I was screwed.

* * *

As I thought about it for the rest of the weekend, I decided to take the girls’ advice as best I could: don’t worry about Knight and just focus on my schoolwork. With romance on the backburner, I had ample time to devote to my studies now. My objective this year was to excel academically anyway and not get caught up in boy drama.

Today was a Tuesday, though, and that meant I had to see him again, first thing in the morning. I honestly didn’t know what I’d feel once I saw him; it had been a while since our last class because of a break and then I skipped our first back because I couldn’t deal with looking at him yet. Would it be the burning hatred of a thousand suns, or a bleak black hole of depression?

I walked into the classroom the next day, and there he was, writing review points for the midterm exam on the whiteboard. The verdict was: I felt absolutely nothing. Numbness. I couldn’t tell if it was a total absence of feeling, or it was an amalgamation of everything at once, so intense that my brain just registered it as no emotion at all.

Instead of sitting in the second row like usual, I moved to the back of the room. I didn’t want to sit as close to him. The farther I was from him, the better. If I could distance myself physically, then perhaps it’d be easier emotionally. So far, it wasn’t working like I thought. While watching him write, I could see his toned biceps flexing against the checkered fabric of his dress shirt, and it made me squirm with temptation. Why couldn’t I just cut off these feelings entirely?

I let out a huge huff of air as I tried to maintain my self-control. But it was extremely hard. I imagined us together in bed, him kissing me on my neck and whispering in my ear. Why did it have to end up like this? We could have been so perfect.

But everything the girls said the other night started echoing in my head, reinforcing my resolve to steer clear of Knight. Then, an overwhelming impulse to make things right suddenly took over, and those echoes quieted to nothing. I looked at the clock and it was 8:20. I still had ten minutes before class started to just talk to him, to at least get to a place where we could manage the semester.

I gathered my nerves and walked towards the front of the classroom, his back still facing me as he finished up the last of the notes. “Hey,” I said timidly. He didn’t respond. Maybe he didn’t hear me. “Professor?” I addressed him respectfully, but loudly this time. “I just had a question about the midterm?” Still no response, not even a hint of acknowledgement. Now, the rage returned anew. I leaned forward on the desk, and with a whisper only he could hear, I growled,

“Fuck you, Knight.”

Then I turned on my heel without looking back, grabbed my bag, and left the room, letting the door slam satisfyingly behind me.

* * *

The registrar wasn’t crowded at all in the afternoon, so it was the perfect time to go in and switch things around on my schedule. I really hoped that Ms. Lanier would be able to put me in another chemistry class. With Knight ignoring me, I could tell that toughing out the rest of the semester wasn’t an option.

The thin, fifty-something, bespectacled woman pounded away at the keys on her computer as she searched for another section to squeeze me into. She would type something in, then stop and squint, type again, click, then frown even harder. She repeated this pattern several times and it confirmed to me that she was having difficulty finding anything for me. More than likely, I was going to be stuck with Knight.

Ms. Lanier removed her glasses from her face and inserted one of its arms into her mouth ponderingly. “Miss Clarke, it looks like all the other sections are full, I’m afraid.” She tucked her wiry golden-brown hair behind her ear, and typed something again, just to verify if what she was saying was accurate. I heard a disappointing ping come from her monitor, an error message I assumed. “Yup,” she said regretfully. “A lot of these sections are actually over capacity or conflict with other classes that you have,” she explained. “And we can’t just take you out of your current professor’s class and not put you anywhere else because you need General Chemistry to graduate.”

“Yeah, I know,” I replied, disheartened.

Ms. Lanier looked back at her screen and clicked around some more. “However, I’m looking at your academic profile, and I see that you have a lot of credits. Over two-hundred, actually. You have enough to graduate a semester early if you took on one more class this semester.”

My heart slowly began to beat normally again. “Really?”

“All those electives you took during your freshman and sophomore years came in handy,” she said, looking at me with approval. “If you take another elective, you can be out of here this December.”

I gasped elatedly. “Oh my God, that’s awesome. I didn’t know that! What can I take?”

“Well, let me see,” she said, putting her chunky brownish frames back on and punching at the keys again. “Astronomy has an opening, and there’s Psychology of the Creative Mind… there’s…”

“Astronomy. I’ll take that,” I said without delay, smiling.

From that point forward, I forgot all about Knight, and completely immersed myself in my schoolwork. I would put up with whatever I had to if I meant I could leave early. I had found a way out of this mess, and I would be damned if I wasn’t going to take it.