Page 37 of Trust Again

Professor Walden waved his hand, like he was swatting away an annoying insect. “Keep going.”

Isaac was going to have a heart attack any second. His face was already beet-red. Hesitantly, he stepped forward and continued where I left off, introducing the first text.

“That was an extremely poor choice,” Professor Walden soon interrupted him. “I would prefer if you’d move on to the next text.”

Isaac’s index cards fell to the floor. He cursed to himself and we both bent down to pick them up.

“Thanks,” he murmured, taking the little pile of cards from my hands.

“No prob…” The second syllable of the word was stuck in my throat because I lost my balance, and abruptly tipped against Isaac. He started to wobble, but quickly righted himself and held me up.

“You okay?” he whispered and I nodded.

But that wasn’t quite the truth, because the walls were spinning and colorful dots were swimming around me. I almost laughed because I suddenly felt so relaxed and the dots looked so pretty.

Professor Walden’s voice broke my reverie. “I think we’re finished here. The next group can come forward.”

“What?” My own loud voice surprised me.

“I think I made myself clear. What you just presented was a good example of a failing presentation,” said Professor Walden. “You’re welcome to try again next year. Perhaps then you’ll be better prepared for my class.”

Isaac and I stood and stared at him as the next group made their way to the lectern, all the while telling us with their eyes how sorry they were.

Red-faced, we collected our things and fled to the hallway. The first thing I did was lean against the wall and try to take a deep breath.

“Shit,” I mumbled, rubbing my face.

“Never mind,” said Isaac.

“No, that was a disaster. Oh God, I completely ruined it. I’m so sorry, Isaac.”

“Don’t apologize. I was just as nervous as you and kept messing up. I mean…” he kept talking but I was only half listening.

I fumbled at my collar and started gasping—it felt like my throat was closing up.

“Dawn? Everything okay?”

All I could do was shake my head. The spots of color in front of my eyes had taken over—the last thing I remember was sliding to the floor, then darkness.

For a few minutes I drifted between something like sleep and a drunken stupor. A nearby voice eventually penetrated the fog—I assumed it was Isaac.

“What were you thinking, Sawyer?” someone hissed right above my ear.

A different voice muttered a reply. I blinked several times to make the world stop spinning and realized that someone was carrying me through the hall.

“I think I’m having a heart attack,” Isaac gasped.

“You should’ve taken some of that stuff, too. I have more if you want.”

“You’re not giving Isaac any sedatives, Sawyer,” spat the person carrying me.

Fresh air hit my lungs. I inhaled greedily. Then I pressed my nose to the throat of my rescuer. He smelled of fresh laundry and a nice aftershave. I wanted to crawl inside that smell and sleep forever.

Suddenly I was set down. Blinking slowly, I realized I was in a car. My head, impossibly heavy, sank backward, missing the headrest. Immediately, someone caught me behind the neck and stopped me from tipping over.

I dragged open my heavy, dry lids.

Spencer was crouching beside me with a frown.

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