Page 10 of Vince
We turn and walk casually across campus. Neither of us say anything for a few moments—but thankfully, nothing is awkward either.
Eventually, Vince breaks the silence, “So… you’re taking financial management. I take it you’re a business major?”
“Marketing, actually. I want to be in public relations with an emphasis on developing the brand or products. What about you?” I ask, keeping the conversation safe. After the way my thoughts drifted in class, I certainly don’t need to make things difficult.
“I’m double-majoring in marketing and international business,” he tells me as we wait for a car to pass before crossing the street. “If all goes to plan, I’ll be done next spring.”
“Same here. Wait… Have you been at CRU the whole time?” It’s really odd this is the first time we’ve met if he’s been here all three years. CRU isn’t that big of a campus. But maybe he’s a transfer.
“Yeah.” He shrugs. “I started as a freshman. My family has a house here in town, so I’ve never lived in the dorms.”
“Wow. That must’ve been nice. I couldn’t wait to get out of the dorms. Thankfully, I met my roommates Abby and Chloe and only lived in one freshman year. Do you live with your parents?”
Something dark flickers across Vince’s features, and I suddenly feel as if I’ve asked the wrong question. His jovial expression is gone as he shakes his head and practically whispers, “No. I don’t live with my parents,” on an exhale.
Crap. What do I say now? Clearly he’s in a bad place with his parents, and I need to change the subject before I put my foot in my mouth further. Think. Think… Got it. I pop off the first question that comes to mind that he seemed to be okay with talking about. “So… what is it you do for the university? You mentioned your internship led into a job on campus?”
“I help market and recruit potential students. It’s really grunt work, like getting mailings set up. I put a lot of labels on mailers and send out pamphlets. But sometimes I get to design and create a campaign we want to run. It’s not much, but it pays well—so I’m not complaining.”
“That’s great work experience, too!” I thought about trying to do something in my field, but I just can’t give up the money I make now.
“I hear ya. You gotta do—what you gotta do. We’ll have plenty of time to work in our fields later, but you’ve gotta get that degree first before anyone will hire you.”
When we get to the entrance of my apartment complex, I contemplate walking further because I don’t want my time with Vince to end. But knowing I have limited time until my shift at the bar, I stick with honesty. “Well…” I point to the complex on our right. “This is me. It was great talking with you, Vince. I’ll see you around.”
“Sounds good. Save me a seat for next class. Maybe we can do this again,” Vince offers, and my mind races into a tailspin.
Thousands of thoughts flicker through my brain, starting with—he wants to see me again—to—I’m so screwed if I have another day like today. I can’t make rhyme or reason of them as they flow like a strobe light through my brain.
Somehow, among all my internal ramblings, I manage a coherent reply, “Sure, sounds good.”
I’m rewarded with a beautiful smile that renders me speechless. “Until then…” he trails off then turns and keeps walking down the street, while I’m left to admire his backside. Thankfully, he doesn’t look back—because I’m rooted in place.
Fuck. I am so screwed.
