Page 103 of Mud, Love, and Chemistry

It worked with me and Sam.

After we started meeting at his place, things improved between us. Okay, so that may have been due to us sleeping together, but it was an improvement nonetheless. Even now, without having sex, we’re still in a good spot. Meeting at the coffee shop has been great. Granted, today will only be our second time, but Sam and I don’t argue anymore, we don’t pick at each other. In fact, we seem to have completely let go of our hatred and are getting along better each time.

The thought buoys my mood as I take a seat at a computer station. Digging through my backpack for my student ID, I come up empty. That’s odd. It’s always in the inside pocket. I don’t put it anywhere else…

Shit.

I took it out when we went to Jackie’s art show last weekend. She won a competition that landed her a temporary spot in a gallery, and students got in for free on opening night. I remember tucking my ID into my pants pocket.

The pants that are currently sitting in my hamper.

With a heavy sigh, I trudge to the front desk to get a temporary login. It should be a simple task. All I need is for a librarian to print me off a code so I can log into our school server. Except, there aren’t any librarians anywhere.

I wait for what feels like forever before I track one down and it takes all of twenty seconds to get a pass code. When I finally sit down at a computer, I notice it’s been thirty minutes since I left my house. I’ve wasted half an hour just trying to get started again.

I still have plenty of time to dedicate to this paper. It’ll be okay.

Popping in my ear-buds, I set to work. The steady stream of hard rock songs drowns out the noise around me, and surprisingly, I fall into a steady flow. I manage to not only read through, but rewrite the majority of two pages. In only forty-five minutes nonetheless. A smile pulls at my lips as I let the weight of the past two hours slide from my shoulders.

That is, until my music suddenly stops. “What the…?” I pull my phone from my pocket to see a black screen. “Awesome,” I groan. Guess I forgot to charge it last night.

I tell myself it isn’t the end of the world and dive back into my paper, but concentrating proves harder than I thought. I lose focus more times than I can count. The idea that I’m unreachable niggles at me.

What if there’s an emergency? This could be the one time my parents need to contact me, and they can’t. Sure, they could call Lisa, but I left without speaking to her, so she doesn’t know where I am.

I lean my elbow onto the desk, dropping my face into my palm. I’m usually so much better prepared than this. How I even forgot to plug in my phone last night is beyond me.

It’s just an off day.

With a deep breath, I begin the same paragraph I’ve reread at least six times. I’d like to finish it before I have to leave...

Crap. What time is it?

I glance at the clock on the computer. “Twelve-forty!? Shit.” I hurriedly log off and throw my materials into my backpack. The coffee shop is a short walk from my house, but the library is on the other side of campus, so now I have twice as far to go.

Racing out of the library, I speed walk down the street. If I keep this pace, I’ll make it to Cuppa Joe’s just in time. It’s a good thing I run for fun.

As I come to an intersection, the light threatens to turn, so I speed up. I’m not paying attention when I step off the curb onto a patch of ice I expect to be sturdy, but my foot goes right through. I shake the water from my snow boot, patting myself on the back for deciding against sneakers.

That sense of pride slowly fades as my sock becomes wet. Great. I have a hole in my boot somewhere. A moist sock has to be the most uncomfortable feeling in the world, and I don’t have time to run home.

Frustrated tears sting my eyes. This day has not gone at all how I had hoped. All I wanted was to finish a paper that I don’t want to look at anymore, but I couldn’t even get that done. And now, I’m late to study group prep.

When I get to Cuppa Joe’s, I find Sam waiting outside again. A smile ticks up on his lips, and all my tension releases. Dammit. Why do I find him so comforting? I didn’t used to. In fact, it was the opposite. Whenever I saw him, it irritated me and I couldn’t wait to get away from him, but things have changed. It's one thing not to hate him, but counting the minutes until I see him again? I shouldn’t be doing that. We’re nothing except classmates, now.

As I get closer, the cheerful expression on his face fades, instead turning to concern. “Hey, is something wrong?”

“I’m having a really shitty day.” I sniffle, swiping at my dewy lashes before eyeing him suspiciously. “Why are you outside? Hiding from Maya again?”

He snorts out a laugh. “Is it that obvious?”

“No, you’re just predictable.”

“Ouch.” He lays his hand on his heart, but winks before he opens the door. “After you.”

Sam steps to the counter while I head straight to the bathroom. I not only need to pee, but I spend a minute using the hand dryer on my sock. Standing on one foot shouldn’t be this difficult. I’m hopping from side to side, leaning all over as I try not to touch the bathroom floor with my bare toes.

When my sock is dry, I bend to slip it on, but lose my balance. I end up over-correcting as I hop backward, and bang my elbow on the sink counter.

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