Talk to Me

3

Seven o’clock in the morning comes early when you’re a university student. Friday morning, I rolled out of bed with less than an hour to spare to get to my American Literature class. Racing through my room, I snatched up my bathroom kit and raced down the hall to shower as thoroughly as possible in under ten minutes. By the time I’d showered, brushed my teeth and hair, and made it back to my room, it wasn’t the best cleanup job I’d ever done.

An excessive use of deodorant and a spritz of cologne would have to do to make me suitable for sitting in close quarters with others for an hour. I yanked on some boxer briefs, a pair of basketball shorts, and a t-shirt, before sliding into a pair of sneakers. As American Literature was my only Friday class, I stuffed the corresponding binder and textbook into my backpack and slung it over my shoulder. Minutes later, with my wallet in my pocket and my lanyard around my neck, I was dashing out of my dorm.

The English and Language Arts building is on the other side of campus from the dorms. However, I was making better time than I expected, even with fighting the early morning student crowds, so I decided to stop by the dining hall. I wasn’t paying for a meal plan at Midway to skip breakfast, so I figured a quick detour would be beneficial. Most professors at Midway treat the students like the adults we are, so bringing a snack to class isn’t treated like an egregious sin.

Breakfast sandwiches, wrapped in tin foil, were stacked by the dozens on trays under heat lamps when I entered the dining hall. I found one labeled “Bac. E. Ch.”

and deduced that the ingredients were bacon, egg, and cheese. If I was wrong, I’d deal with it. I grabbed a second sandwich when my stomach rumbled, then selected a bottled cold brew coffee, and made my way to check out. As I left the dining hall, I cursed myself for forgetting to refill my water bottle so that I’d have it in my bag.

Everyone will just have to deal with your coffee breath for an hour, I thought to myself.

Hopefully, the minty freshness of my recently brushed teeth would help during class, even with coffee and breakfast sandwich stench thrown atop it.

By the time I’d reached the English and Language Arts building, I had ten minutes to spare before class. Mentally patting myself on the back, I quickly found the correct room and slipped inside. Only a handful of students had arrived in the class designed for probably around forty. Not recognizing anyone that I would want to sit with, I found a table at the back of the room. Gnawing on breakfast sandwiches and slurping down cold brew would distract my professor less if I wasn’t right in her face, after all.

Like the other students, I made myself comfortable and pulled my binder, textbook, a highlighter, and a pen out of my bag. I set the first sandwich and my bottle of cold brew alongside my class materials, making sure I didn’t take up more than my share of the two-person table. A glance up provided the intel that our professor had made her way to the room and was setting up at the front of the class, greeting other students as they arrived to the quickly filling room.

Mentally, I chastised myself for waiting so long to take American Literature as one of my English requirements. Obviously, the class was going to be packed with freshmen getting the class out of the way. I didn’t mind full classes, but Lit classes tended to be held in the smaller classrooms on campus, so those rooms filling up always felt more claustrophobic. I wasn’t against freshmen and sophomores—or any type of student, for that matter—I simply didn’t enjoy being packed into a room with them like sardines.

Ignoring the activity around me, I caught the professor’s eyes from across the room and discreetly held up my breakfast sandwich. She gave me a warm smile and a nod, so I tore the tin foil open. I was starving, and there was no way I could pay attention if my stomach was growling for an entire hour. By the time I was taking my first bite of my sandwich, the class was full, save for the seat at the table beside me.

Typically, being the only person without a tablemate would feel like being rejected by dozens of strangers. However, I’ve never seen it that way. I’ve always enjoyed having space to myself. Besides, I didn’t know anyone in the class. If they were rejecting me, who cared? And if they simply didn’t sit with me because they chose to sat with other students they knew, who was I to be upset? I had my materials, my cold brew, and my sandwich. An empty seat next to me wouldn’t ruin my morning.

The blessing of having a table all to myself was short-lived. As the professor began to take control of the excited students and begin class, a straggler slipped into the seat beside me. I was too busy masticating the giant bite of my sandwich to pay them any mind. However, as the professor was busy answering a question from a lost student who had wandered in from the hall, I swallowed the bite and turned to sate my curiosity.

For some reason, I wasn’t surprised to see Theo Hendrix sitting in the seat next to me, his arms crossed atop his textbook on the table. After running into him randomly the night before, it somehow seemed logical that we would have another chance encounter. Running into someone you least expect seems more realistic to me than someone would you expect. Otherwise, it wouldn’t be a chance encounter. That’s what makes it unsurprising.

That’s how my brain works. I don’t question it.

Sensing my eyes on him, Theo turned his head slightly to look at me out of the corner of his eye.

Smiling, I gave him an upwards nod of my head.

“Hi,” I said.

Theo looked at me for a moment, and though I might have imagined it, his nose seemed to crinkle. He gave me the sharpest of nods and turned his attention back to the front of the classroom.

Since I’m not Bella Swan, and I was fairly certain Theo wasn’t a vampire struggling to not devour me in a room full of other humans, I assumed he was simply an asshole. Then again, Edward was trying to ignore Bella’s alluring scent. With my haphazard hygiene before class, it was possible that Theo was trying to ignore the smell coming off of me as well. I shook those thoughts away and turned my attention back to my sandwich and the professor standing at the front of the room.

It suddenly dawned on me that it was fortunate that thoughts don’t appear in bubbles over our heads. If my American Literature professor found out I knew anything about Twilight, it was possible she’d give me a failing grade for the semester on our first day. The last thing I wanted a professor who was planning to lecture us about Waiting for Godot to know was that I was familiar with sparkly vampires.

Not that I was an expert on the books or movies, but it still seemed like something you keep to yourself in such an environment.

As I finished my sandwich and cold brew, I stared up at our professor as she spoke. Like most first days of classes in university, the bulk of her first lecture was over the syllabus and what to expect over the semester. I took a few notes in the margins of my printed-out syllabus in my binder and highlighted a few important dates and assignments. However, it quickly became apparent that our first day was going to be light on actual learning.

Our professor continued to speak and I considered pulling out my second sandwich, but decided against it. The breakfast sandwich would make a nice snack to have between class and lunchtime to keep me from getting ravenously hungry for the second time in one day. With nothing but the professor’s cursory first day lecture over the syllabus to occupy my attention, I found myself paying attention more to the room around me.

It suddenly occurred to me that several students at the tables in front of mine would discreetly glance over their shoulders to the back of the room. Specifically, it seemed as though they were looking at my table in particular. They’d glance over their shoulders, grin evilly, then turn to whisper something to the student sitting next to them. A moment later, the student they’d whispered to would take their turn looking over their shoulder, smiling, and then whisper something back to the first student.

I didn’t see it so much as sense that Theo was shrinking in his seat next to me, trying to make himself smaller. Though it should have occurred to me sooner, I realized the students in class were looking at and whispering about our resident social media star. Since I couldn’t hear what they were saying to each other, I wasn’t certain if their thoughts on Theo were positive. However, from the smirks on their faces, I assumed they were not.

Spending the first class and lecture worrying about someone else’s business irked me. Theo was sitting in a class he had also paid an exorbitant price to attend, and the other students were making it difficult for him to learn. I didn’t care how other students wasted their money, but distracting Theo and me was not making me happy.

After a few minutes, I was getting tired of the glances shot our way. When another student two tables ahead turned to look at us, I glared at him and twirled a finger angrily in the air, indicating he needed to turn around. He had the common sense to look ashamed, and turned away from us quickly. Though other students noticed the interaction and quietly giggled nervously, no one else turned around for the last half of the class.

He didn’t sit up straighter, but Theo stopped shrinking in his seat, and I was finally able to focus my attention back on the professor giving her lecture over the syllabus. By the end of class, we were being given instructions on which parts to read in our first reading selection, and we were summarily dismissed for the day.

The class erupted in screeching chair legs on the floor, students bursting into conversations, and learning materials being put away. As I was at the back of the room, and the door was at the front, I took my time putting everything in my bag. Pushing through the horde of students to get out of the classroom didn’t seem like an enjoyable prospect. I’d wait until the class was at least half empty before making my escape.

As the class started to empty out, and since my bag was packed, I decided it might be kind to say something friendly to Theo. After witnessing the way people were reacting to him in class, I felt anyone in that situation could use some uplifting words. I wasn’t quite sure what was appropriate, seeing as we didn’t know each other, and so far, I had only uttered an unreturned greeting. I figured a ‘the first day of a class is always hardest,’ or something similar would be appreciated. However, when I turned slightly to address him, he practically leapt from his seat.

Slightly shocked, but not completely surprised, I watched as Theo weaved his way through the dwindling crowd and out the door. Once he was out of sight, I shrugged to myself and rose from my seat. Like almost any other college classroom, seating wasn’t assigned in American Literature. Us sharing a table for any other class was unlikely, so I wasn’t going to get upset at his rudeness. I slung my backpack over my shoulder and headed out of class.

I’d barely made it out of class, down the hallway, and through the glass doors to the outside when the shrieking of my best friend shattered my eardrums. Collin’s shrill scream had every head within a mile radius whipping around to see if a parrot was being plucked. Following the lead of, literally, everyone around me, I looked around for Collin. Finally, my eyes landed on my best friend and dormmate, dashing down the path towards me.

“Ohmygod, I’m so glad I found you!”

Collin squealed as he approached, his voice lowering in volume marginally as he approached. “I was pretty sure you had Lit today.”

I eyed him for a moment as the people around us lost interest and carried on with their personal business.

“I would say you need to learn to use your inside voice,”

I said, “but here we are. Outside.”

I motioned to the outdoors around us.

Collin laughed, as though his unceasing need to draw attention to himself was a pleasant joke and not an actual problem that probably required therapy.

“You’re going to be a geek and study all weekend, yes?”

he asked, lacing his arm through mine and turning us in the direction of the dorms.

Nodding, I replied, “Studying all weekend, sure. Whether or not that makes me a geek is up for debate.”

He rolled his eyes, but smiled widely.

“Great!”

he exclaimed. “Look, Dylan asked if I wanted to stay over this weekend, and—”

“So, you said ‘yes’ and won’t be back until Sunday night,”

I said, finishing his thought. “I expected nothing less when you left last night.”

We both laughed.

“But also,”

Collin continued, “my mom texted and said she sent a care package that should be here this afternoon or tomorrow.”

“That’s nice of her.”

I nodded at one of the students I recognized from another class as we walked along the sunny pathway towards the dorms. A pleasant breeze was whistling through campus, and the cool air in my hair had me thinking of the upcoming autumn weather. I couldn’t wait to see the leaves changing, getting to wear coats and scarves, and seeing all of the autumnal décor students and administration would be putting out.

And of course, Halloween on college campuses is the best time of the year. Halloween parties, costumes, candy, cookies, bonfires, hayrides, the insanity around the holiday, and football at the same time. It all nearly made the cost of going to university worth it.

“Yeah, sure,”

Collin said dismissively. “But if I don’t immediately pick it up from the RA, open it, and send her a text with specificity, thanking her, she’s going to be a real cunt.”

I grimaced. “That’s not a nice thing to say about your mother.”

“You haven’t met her.”

Collin sniffed. “It’s probably the nicest thing you could say about her.”

“She’s sending you a care package…”

I trailed off.

He shrugged, letting go of my arm. We stepped off the path so we were out of the way and turned to face each other.

“Would you just check in with Dusty tonight and tomorrow?”

he asked. “Open it up, text me its contents, maybe shoot me a pic, and I can text her to thank her? I don’t want to get a phone call complaining that I don’t love her.”

“Do you?”

I cocked an eyebrow. “You just called her a—”

“It’s fine.”

He waved me off. “She’s fine. She’s my mother. Tra-la-la. Nothing but love.”

I sighed.

“Fine.”

I agreed. “I’ll send you a picture of the contents if and when it arrives.”

“You’re the best!”

Collin squealed, wrapped his arms around me briefly for a hug, then practically skipped away. “See you Sunday night!”

Giving him a half-hearted salute, I watched him disappear into the crowd of students around the quad. Once again on my own, I realized that I had an uneaten breakfast sandwich in my backpack and nothing on my agenda. Going back to the dorm, getting started on my weekend studying, and finishing my breakfast was the most appealing course of action I could imagine.

A few minutes later, I was standing outside the room of our Resident Advisor, Dusty. After a few knocks that were loud enough to shake the whiteboard hung on the door went unanswered, I gave up. Obviously, it was still too early in the morning to expect our RA to be accepting visits. I made a mental note to check in with him about any packages later in the day, and headed to my room.

True to form, and to not let Collin lose his perception of me, I immediately settled in at my desk and got to work. I added American Lit’s syllabus information to my calendar, organized my binder better according to the semester notes I’d taken, and generally acted like a geek. I finished my second breakfast sandwich within the first thirty minutes of my work, and finally remembered to fill up my water bottle.

As I worked through the morning, I hydrated and got ahead on my weekend reading. There wasn’t much to do in the way of homework, as I’d only been to the first day of each class so far, but there was plenty of reading. Where there’s reading, there’s highlighting and notes to take. So, that kept me fairly busy until lunchtime. By noon, my stomach was rumbling at me again, so I set my work aside, grabbed my wallet and lanyard, and headed to the dining hall.

Collin was nowhere to be found, which was typical, so I grabbed a tray at the beginning of the lunch line. I piled it with a ham sandwich, a bag of chips, a side salad that I drizzled with a sherry shallot dressing, a cinnamon roll as a special little treat, and a bottle of soda. Luckily, I was able to find a table of casual acquaintances to eat with so I wouldn’t be a bigger geek than Collin claimed.

After an hour of socializing and stuffing my face, I realized it was time to get back to my dorm to continue my reading and notes. I made my way back to the dorms, stopping at Dusty’s room once more. Fortunately, his door was open, indicating that he was available to be bothered. When I peeked inside, he was at his desk, leaning in to his laptop screen, and clicking his mouse frantically. A quick glance let me know he was gaming, so I wasn’t interrupting anything I’d consider important.

“Hey, Dusty.”

I announced my presence.

Startled, as though he never expected to have to interact with other students as a resident advisor, he lurched in his seat. As he spun in his chair to see who was at the door, I forced myself to hold back the smile forming on my lips. Dusty, scrawny and wiry, nearly a foot taller than me, reached up to push his black-frame glasses up his nose, then ran a hand through the bushy dark mane on his head. He stood immediately and headed over to greet me.

Clothed in all black—black jeans, black t-shirt, black socks—he had foregone any shoes for the day. When he got to the door, he lit up and smiled at me. Apparently, even though my presence had been startling, I wasn’t the worst person he could have run into that day.

“Josh!”

he exclaimed. “My least problematic student!”

I chuckled.

“Hey,”

I said again as he crossed his arms over his thin chest and waited. “Just stopping by to see if you have a package for Collin. Four-twenty-eight.”

I gave Dusty our room number as though we weren’t literally a few doors down the hall from him.

“Oh,”

he said, his arms sliding to his side, “yeah. I stopped by the office. Got a few things. I think I have something for you, too.”

“Oh?”

Dusty went over to the table in the corner of his room where he kept everything pertaining to his duties as our RA, and sorted through boxes and envelopes for a brief moment. Finally, he grabbed a rather large box from the table, and a few envelopes. Coming back to the door, he put the envelopes atop the box and handed everything over to me.

I grunted as he passed our mail to us. The envelopes looked like spam that simply needed to be torn up and tossed, but the package felt like there was at least two cinderblocks inside of it. How a guy so skinny had carried it without so much as a change in his facial expression was beyond me. I wasn’t struggling to carry it, but it was definitely heavy enough to warrant an “oof”

or the grunt I’d let sneak out.

“Uh, thanks,”

I said, frowning at the box.

“Anytime, my man.”

Dusty smiled and crossed his arms over his chest again. “Anytime.”

Unsure how to handle such a response, I gave him another smile, turned, and headed back down the hall to my room.

Once inside the privacy of our room, I tipped the box over my desk to allow the envelopes to slide off onto my workspace. I dropped the box on Collin’s bed and stared down at the monstrosity. It was large enough to hold a dismembered human torso—and I desperately hoped that was not the kind of care Collin’s mom thought he needed. Using the scissors from my desk drawer, I cut through the tape sealing the box.

With the tape removed and the flaps pulled back, I found that Collin’s mother had shipped him every possible snack a guy in college could ever want. Pringles, boxed cookies, snack crackers, canned pasta that I hadn’t eaten since I was a kid, ramen, anything typical for a dorm room dining experience. She’d even tucked in a 6-pack of a regional soda that I wasn’t familiar with, but looked like a typical soda you’d find anywhere else in the country.

As I’d been instructed, I pulled my phone from my pocket and snapped a picture of the open box and its contents for Collin. I shot off a text to Collin with the picture attached and a message proclaiming everything was “self-explanatory.”

My phone made a “swooshing” sound, letting me know that my message had been sent. I closed the flaps of the box and was about to slide my phone back into my pocket when it dinged at me.

Message from Collin.

I hadn’t expected him to acknowledge my existence until Sunday, so I was surprised to see the banner on my phone. Opening the message, I smiled down at what Collin had to say.

She knows I don’t need any of that shit! A puking emoji followed the text.

“Ingrate,”

I said aloud, shaking my head with a bemused grin.

I don’t know. My reply message said. It seems like a nice gesture.

You can have it. Give it all away. I don’t care. Another pukey emoji followed by the red-faced cursing emoji.

I replied with a thumb’s up emoji.

Thinking that was the end of the conversation, I was about to slide my phone into my pocket once again, when my phone began jingling at me. Collin’s face appeared on the screen and I saw that he was trying to video chat me. With a sigh, I accepted the call and held the phone up level to my face to greet him.

“Why would she send all that crap?”

Collin squawked through the phone. “She knows I try to eat healthy now!”

Knowing Collin’s history from late-night chats over the last two school years, I couldn’t say I exactly blamed him for his response. He’d grown up a chubby gay kid. If he wasn’t being bullied for his weight, he was being bullied for being gay. I could see how the box of calorie-dense snack foods could be triggering. However, also knowing the mentality of mothers, I had to assume his own was simply trying to send some comfort from home. No ill will intended.

“I don’t know,”

I said with a shrug. “She’s just trying to be nice, I guess?”

“Ugh! She does this every year!”

“And every year you end up eating some of it and nothing bad happens and then you realize she loves you and misses you,”

I said. “Let’s not have another meltdown for the third year in a row, okay? Just accept the kind gesture in the spirit in which it was intended or I’m going to wipe my ass on your pillow. Okay?”

Collin cackled and I smiled at him.

“Fine. Just fine.”

Collin smiled back. “I’ll shut up. How was American Lit?”

“Oh?”

I plopped down on his bed next to the box. “You have time to care about my life, do you?”

He rolled his eyes and said nothing. Behind him on his screen I saw band posters and some embroidered wall hanging in a darkened room. Obviously, he was hanging out at Dylan’s place. Wherever that place happened to be on campus. Or off-campus. It occurred to me that Collin could have been in a sex offender’s dungeon and I’d be none the wiser.

“Drop me your location when you get a chance,” I said.

He laughed. “Yes, father!”

“I mean it,”

I said, then continued before he could say something else smart. “It was fine. American Lit. We didn’t really do much. First week, ya’ know?”

“Mm. I’m glad I got that out of the way freshman year. Boring.”

“Yeah.”

I agreed. “I don’t think it’s going to be a life-changing experience. But I get to read and talk about books, so it’ll be one of the funner classes.”

“More fun!”

“Funner,”

I said. “Look it up. It’s an informal comparative adjective but not grammatically incorrect. Merriam-Webster says—”

Collin was rolling his eyes again, so I changed course.

“Oh,”

I said, “that Theo guy is in that class with me, too.”

My friend was suddenly sitting up straight, giving me his full attention on the other end of the video chat.

“I thought that would interest you,”

I said with a laugh. “He sat at my table with me. Probably because he was the last one into class and it was the last seat left.”

“Last seat because you’re a studious geek and no one wanted to be seen with you.”

I ignored his jab.

“Anyway,”

I said dismissively, “that’s something to report.”

“Did he talk to you? Was he a total asshole or what?”

“No,”

I said. “He didn’t talk to me.”

That was the truth. Theo hadn’t said a word to me.

“I said ‘hello’ or whatever, but he didn’t seem interested in making new friends,”

I said, laughing again, amused at the memory. “He seemed standoffish. But I didn’t have the most thorough shower this morning, so that might have had something to do with it.”

Collin chuckled, but his brow was furrowed.

“Anyway, he was wearing a red blouse today,”

I said with finality. “Since that seems to matter to you.”

“Don’t be a smart ass. Hmmm. That’s kind of shitty, being rude to you when you tried to be nice.”

“He wasn’t rude,”

I said. “Just…not friendly. I mean, I get it. People were whispering and looking at him throughout class. It’s probably tough being, uh, famous or whatever? Is he famous? Infamous? Is internet fame a real thing or what?”

“Oh, he’s infamous, for sure. Everyone hates him. And obviously he deserves it.”

“Why does he deserve it again?” I asked.

“He cheated on Ben!”

“Who is that again?”

“His ex-boyfriend!”

Collin squealed. “The Two Gays from Blaze thing I told you about!”

“Sorry,”

I said. “The internet’s not a real place and I don’t retain information well if it’s not going to be on a test.”

Collin groaned.

“Well, I hope he trips and stubs his toe for being rude to you!”

“He wasn’t rude. Yet again. He just didn’t squeal and proclaim we’re now besties and should get matching tattoos. I mean, he nodded when I said ‘hi’ to him and stuff.”

“You are too nice, Josh.”

Collin chastised me. “You could give someone twenty bucks and apologize that the bill was wrinkled.”

I laughed out loud.

“Anyway, I’m getting back to my weekend with someone who does more than nod when I show interest in being friendly.”

“Ew,”

I said. “I’m hanging up before I get any more details.”

Collin was still laughing when I hit the button to end our call.

After he disappeared from my screen and I locked my phone, I finally slid it into my pocket. Leaning over and peering into the box, my eyes landed on a bag of soft-baked Chips Ahoy. I snagged the bag and headed over to my desk.

It was the least Collin could do for making me pick up his mail.