Sunday, August 26th
The clacking of computer keys was
drowned out by the alternative rock music blaring from the speakers
installed throughout the van. Jay McConnell's fingers glided at a
surprising speed, his brown eyes darting from the dim laptop screen
to the small notebook settled on the armrest. His best friend Dean
Oliver drummed his hands against the steering wheel as he drove, but
Jay had tuned him out hours ago when he started working on his
stories.
His mind was in a state of
auto-pilot, his eyes registering the words on the notebook pages and
transferring them to his laptop through his fingers with little time
to think of much else. His imagination ran the scene through his
conscious mind, immersing him in the emotions and experiences of each
character involved.
A playful punch struck his left
bicep, snapping him back ot reality with a jolt. He glanced over at
Dean, who was driving with only one hand as he withdrew his dark
brown fist, his dark eyes glued to the road.
Jay pushed his crimson red
rectangular glasses up the bridge of his nose, blinking away the
effects of staring at a computer screen for hours. “What?” he
asked.
Dean pointed out the windshield
at the sign they were quickly approaching. “We've reached
Middletown,” he said, shouting to be heard over the loud music.
“How do I get to the college?”
Jay didn't hesitate as he
minimized the document he was currently working on and pulled up the
directions he copied off the Internet. He paused the music as he
relayed the directions to the African-American boy in the driver's
seat, and ten minutes later, they turned into the west driveway
leading into Severin University.
Jay's mouth hung agape as he
stared in awe at the large college campus for the second time in his
life. It hadn't changed very much from when he and Dean had visited
to investigate it, hoping to make it their first choice. But arriving
as college freshmen made the entire experience feel much more
different, accomplished.
“We've made it!” he
whispered excitedly.
Dean smirked. “Hell, yeah, we
did!”
Jay closed his laptop and
notebook and shoved them deep inside his messenger bag with some of
his other belongings. He felt excited anticipation well up in his
chest as Dean drove the dark blue utility van past dormitories,
academic buildings, and the college's recreational center. College
students of various sizes and shapes were cattered everywhere,
hauling their belongings from cars to dormitories, hugging their
families good-bye, even some just lazing about under the shade of
lush trees.
Dean pulled up to a two-story
structure approximately the size of a small office complex and parked
the van. “Let's hurry up and find out which dorm we're bunking in,”
he said, grinning as he unbuckled his seatbelt. “I can't wait to
check out the hotties!”
Jay laughed as he climbed out of
the van. “What makes you think that we're gonna be rooming
together?”
“Why wouldn't we? We asked
them to put us in the same room when we got accepted. Aren't they
supposed to honor requests like that?”
The Caucasian shook his head,
using an index finger to push his rectangular glasses back up the
bridge of his nose. “I don't think things work like that, bro.
Don't you think they get requests like that all the time?”
Now that they were out of the
van, the boys stretched their cramped and restless legs, and it was
clear to anyone who passed by that Jay was at least six inches taller
than his best friend, but was lankier. Dean had clearly defined upper
body muscles, similar to a linebacker on a varsity football team,
while Jay was more toned, like a runner.
“Ugh! Remind me whose idea it
was to drive all night?” Dean groaned, shaking the stiffness out of
his legs.
Jay smirked. “Yours―you
didn't want to get here at night.”
“Oh...right.” Dean pulled a
rubber band from his pocket and tied his dreadlocks into a messy
ponytail, leaving a strand free. “Why didn't you talk me out of
it?”
Jay laughed. “You're kidding
me, right? In all the time we've known each other, I've never been
able to talk you out of anything.”
“True, but there's a first
time for everything.”
The taller boy rolled his eyes
and brushed his long bangs back. “Let's just go get our
information. I want to get unpacked by nightfall.”
Dean started walking towards the
building and glanced over his shoulder to make sure his best friend
was following, then stopped abruptly in mid-stride. Jay noticed and
turned around to look at what had captured the shorter boy's
attention.
A rather attractive woman that
appeared to be in her mid-thirties walked towards them in a gray
business suit, her matching high heels giving off staccato clicks
with each step. She sported tortoise-shell glasses and had her dark
brown hair tied up in a neat bun with an unsharpened pencil holding
it in place. She carried a black leather briefcase in her right hand,
and when Jay peered closer, he saw no evidence of a wedding ring.
Oh, crap, he thought with
a sigh.
Dean rushed past him and stopped
directly in front of the woman, cutting her off. She merely blinked
without expression and halted in her tracks. Jay could already tell
where this was going, and leaned back against the grill of the van.
“Hello, there,” Dean said.
He'd lowered his voice an entire octave in order to sound seductive.
“I'm Dean. What's your name, beautiful?”
Jay rolled his eyes at the
African-American's ploy. Almost every time Dean came across an
attractive girl, he goes into a state of mind where he dishes out
cheesy pick-up lines to seduce them. It rarely worked.
The woman was unaffected by
Dean's “playboy” demeanor, and pushed her glasses up her nose to
scrutinize him. “Young man, I am Rosalynn Stanley,” she said in a
crisp, icy tone. “I teach English 101 to half of the freshmen
students, which you two obviously are.” She growned at Dean. “What
are your first and last names?”
Dean was taken aback by the fact
that the attractive professor rejected him so blatantly, and Jay
chuckled under his breath. “My name's Jay McConnell,” the taller
boy replied. “This is my pal Dean Oliver.”
Professor Stanley narrowed her
eyes at the Caucasian boy and nodded slowly. “I see. I have you in
my Tuesday morning class, Mr. McConnell, but you must be in the other
English professor's class, Mr. Oliver. I have no record of your name
in any of my rosters.”
Dean gasped. “How do you know
that without looking at any of your papers?”
Jay chuckled again, a little
louder this time. “Photographic memory. She remembers everything
she reads and sees.”
Prof. Stanley smirked.
“Incorrect, Mr. McConnell. Eidetic memory―I've remembered
everything since I was three years old.” She sidestepped Dean and
waved at Jay as she passed the blue van. “See you around, boys.”
Jay finally laughed loudly as
Dean shook his head. “Where did I go wrong this time?” the
African-American boy murmured to himself.
