Page 1 of The Band Geek

ONE

A pillow crashing into my head startles me awake, and I jump up, practically falling off the couch in the living room. My head is pounding, and I squint my eyes to keep the bright daylight from stinging. My roommate and lifelong best friend, Talon, stands in the living room with a bowl of cereal in his hands, staring at me.

“Don't you have class?”

“Fuck,” I say before standing and running my fingers through my hair, rushing to the door to slip on a pair of shoes and grab my keys. Thankfully, the university is only a five-minute drive from the apartment, so I won't be too delayed getting there. Professor Nichols is difficult to deal with, and I know I'm only getting on his bad side by arriving to class fifteen minutes late.

I park the car and run inside, ignoring some of the guys from the team as they wave at me and try to talk. This is the last time I have people over to watch a football game when I have class in the morning.

All eyes are on me as I walk into the classroom, and I can't help but feel a little embarrassed.

“Nice of you to finally join us, Sawyer,” Professor Nichols says with a sigh, gesturing to the desks in the room. I make my way to an open seat toward the back of the room and drop my backpack beside it, leaning back in the chair to try to focus on the lesson. “I know all of you are wondering what the final project will be this semester, and you'll be pleased to know it's a group assignment.”

Murmurs fill the room as Professor Nichols crosses his arms and waits for it to die down. Some people are immediately happy to hear it's a group assignment, including myself. Others, not so much. I enjoy learning about history, but I'm not exactly planning on being valedictorian. I'm busy enough with the football schedule this semester as well as constant practices and strength training in the gym to worry about an elective history class. That being said, it's imperative that I maintain a 2.5 GPA just to remain on the team.

“For the project, I will be randomly assigning groups and topics for research projects. You will be researching one of the topics we've discussed over the course of the semester and presenting a visual aid to the class,” Professor Nichols continues, grabbing a clipboard from the desk and looking down at it. He starts reading names, and I listen carefully for mine. “Covering the section on the Renaissance era will be Sawyer Jackson and Rowen Peebles.”

Rowen Peebles? Who is that?

I look around the room to try to make eye contact with my partner only to find a girl sitting in the front desk looking over her shoulder at me with a scowl on her face. She purses her lips and turns back to the professor, her shoulders slumping slightly. Honestly, I don't know her very well. I didn't even know her name before she looked at me.

Of course, I've been in class with her all semester, so I know a little bit about her. She is the kind of girl who always raises her hand when the professor asks a question and gets disappointed when he doesn't call on her. She is a know-it-all. She would ask about the homework when it isn't collected because she knows she did well and needs that validation when it's returned to her. Being on the football team, many girls throw themselves at me, but Rowan isn't one of them. No, she's not like a lot of the other girls I've met.

Even though I don't know her very well, I’m looking forward to working with her. As I've said, I don't get the best grades, and I know the chances of her taking over the project are high. This is a guaranteed A for me. With a final project that's almost half of my grade for the entire semester, I can consider this class done and passed.

As always, a minute before class is scheduled to be over, everybody begins packing their bags to leave. The professor waves us all off in annoyance, reminding us that the project is due at the end of the month.

I grab my backpack and turn toward Rowan, expecting to talk to her about a time to get together for the project, but she immediately rushes to the desk to talk to Professor Nichols. I lean against the desk and wait for her.

“Is there any way I can have another partner?” she asks, pleading with the professor. “I can work alone if there isn't anyone else too.”

Professor Nichols shakes his head and puts the strap of his bag over his shoulder, eager to leave the room and get a move on with his day. “Sorry, Rowan. The groups are already decided, and a majority of the grade is based on your performance as a group. I can't let you do this alone.”

“Let’s face it, I'm going to be doing it by myself anyway,” she says, huffing and crossing her arms in front of her.

Ouch. I mean, it's the truth, but hearing her say it makes me look like an asshole.

“You can't know that until you get started,” Professor Nichols says, looking at his watch to signal his need to get away. “Look, if things aren't going well at the end of the week, come talk to me then. But you have to at least try.”

He waves goodbye at her and walks out of the room, leaving Rowan and me alone. She turns around and glares at me, shaking her head in disappointment as she packs the textbooks and binders she had neatly stacked on her desk into her oversized backpack.

“Maybe giving me a chance could be a fair option?” I say, strolling across the room to stand in front of her.

She rolls her eyes and sighs. “I don't need to give you a chance. I know your type. You expect to just sit back and let the band geek do all the work so you can get a good grade.”

I mean, she's got me. But I have no intention of giving her the satisfaction of winning this argument.

“That's not true. I didn't even know you were in the band,” I say, shrugging my shoulders.

She lets out a sarcastic laugh as she puts both straps of the backpack around her shoulders, her spine immediately straightening as the weight of it practically pulls her back.

“Of course not. You wouldn't pay attention to the band playing on the sidelines, only the cheerleaders throwing themselves at you.” Once again, she’s right. Other than a few passing glances on the field, I haven't really spent any time getting to know anyone from the band. I open my mouth to think of a response, but she shakes her head and cuts me off. “Whatever. There's no use arguing about this. We can't change partners, so we're stuck together. Do you have another class right now, or can we go to the library and get started?”

My head is still pounding from the minor hangover I have after the get-together last night, but flaking on her now will only prove her point. Plus, the sooner we get this project over with, the better.

“I have a class at noon, so we can work until then,” I say, gesturing for her to lead the way to the library.

I follow her across campus as she confidently strides in front of me, holding the straps of her backpack as she walks. Her long brown hair is tied back in a loose braid that sways as she moves. By the way she walks ahead of me, it's like she doesn't want to be seen with me, which I think is ironic. By all standards, I'm pretty popular on campus. Shouldn't these roles be reversed?

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