Page 10 of No One Else

He pauses, surveying the room. “You,” he points to a guy in the back row. “Trade places with Miss Johnson. And you,” he points at another guy on the opposite side of the room. “Switch with the girl with the pink hair over here.”

Once everyone is situated in their new spots, he takes one last look around, pleased with himself. “That should make a nice mix. Now, you all are in tables of two. The person sitting next to you will be your project partner for assignments we’ll be doing in the first half of the semester, with a presentation to be given after midterms. The point is to pair up with someone different from you. You will learn how to market a product targeted toward them. You will learn about their behaviors, their buying trends, their wants, their needs. How can you best market to them?”

I glance at Natalie, who’s studiously not looking at me. On the one hand, this is the exact kind of in I’ve been searching for. A legitimate reason to talk to one another, work together. She’ll have to speak to me, spend time with me. It’s literally part of the assignment.

On the other hand, do I want to force her to spend time with me right now? Will that strain things even further?

“The textbook is all well and good,” he continues, “but it won’t teach you anything personal. You can memorize definitions all day long, but this project will give you practical experience to which you can apply those concepts. Your partner will help you understand a different perspective. As a marketer, you need to be able to get in the heads of all kinds of people. What motivates them. Drives them. Then tap into that knowledge to make them buy the product you want them to.”

He steps away from the front again, circling around the perimeter of the class. “Now, some of you may already have issues with your proposed partner just at a glance. I urge you, however, to try and move past that. This will help you learn how to deal with clients, which every one of you will likely do at some point in your marketing or business career. Use this as an opportunity to work with someone different than you. Clients will differ from you. You may not understand them at first, but you need to learn how to work with them. As marketers, advertisers, businesspeople - customers will be your number one priority. It behooves you to learn this necessary skill now.”

He goes on about specific assignments and deadlines, quizzes and attendance, all the normal first day stuff. But most of my attention is on Natalie. She’s no longer fidgety, but she hasn’t glanced my way once since class started. What is she thinking? Mad that we’re partners? Resigned to it?

If her lack of communication the past two weeks is any indication, I’m presuming she’s not exactly happy about it.

When Dr. Kaufman finally dismisses us I jump right in, wanting to get ahead of the situation.

“Natalie, I’m sorry about that night at Empire. I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable. That’s the last thing I wanted to do.” I instinctively want to reach for her hand, but decide that’s not the best course of action right now. “Can we start fresh?”

She angles her body toward me, scooting her chair further out after everyone from our row passes us. “Are we just going to forget it ever happened?”Her tone isn’t sarcastic, but there’s a faint hint of disbelief underneath it. Not that I blame her. I wouldn’t believe me either.

I just want to stay close to her. Keep her in my life in some way. If she wanted, she’d absolutely have grounds to switch partners.

“I’m over it,” I insist.

Her eyebrows raise. “You’re over it?” Her voice is thick with skepticism.

“Yeah, I, um... I even have a girlfriend now,” I blurt out.

Wait, what? Where in the hell did that come from?

Her eyebrows somehow go even higher. “A girlfriend?”

“Yeah.” Oh, fuck. Am I actually continuing with this lie? Well, if it helps ease her mind...

“What’s her name?”

“Sarah.” Whew, nice save. Totally normal, generic name. There have to be a million Sarahs at this school.

“I know a few Sarahs. What’s her last name?”

“Uh, it’s um... Rigatoni.”

WHAT? Why would I say that? That’s not anywhere near a last name.

“Is she Italian?”

Yeah, because she’s a noodle, apparently. “I’m not sure. Anyway,” I desperately try to switch topics, “you don’t have to worry about things being weird. Let’s talk about the project.”

She nods, glancing around at the nearly deserted classroom.

“Do you have another class?”

I shake my head. “This is my last one of the day.”

“Do you want to go to the library? We could start right now.”

“It’s not due until March.” I’m not a procrastinator by any means, but starting now seems excessive. Wait, why am I arguing with her about this? Hell yeah, I want to go anywhere with her right now. “I mean, yeah, I’d love to.”

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