Page 89 of Distortion
I go inside and take a seat close enough that I can see the screen easily. The lights dim slightly and a thin woman walks into the room. She’s wearing dark pants and a green checkered shirt over a white tank top.
‘Good morning, everyone.’
There’s a chorus of ‘good morning, Professor McKinsey’s’.
‘Let’s dive right in. In front of you is an equation.’
I look up and immediately begin copying the lines of numbers and letters and symbols into my notebook.
‘You have ten minutes to solve it. The first person who gets the correct answer will get five points of extra credit,’ she raises a brow, ‘that you will be able to use on the final exam.’ There’s a collective ‘ooooooh’ from the lecture hall.
‘That could be the difference between an A and a B, passing this class or failing,’ the professor continues in a sing-song voice.
I scribble on my paper, lost in the patterns.
‘... in this class.’
The voice is very close.
I look up to find a couple of students standing over me and I jump involuntarily. The girl has a high ponytail and is wearing clothes that seem to closely mimic the woman at the front of the room.
My smile is involuntarily. It’s like she trying to ingratiate herself with the professor by dressing like her. There were a couple of residents like that at The Heath, who would take on the characteristics of whoever they were around like sociological camouflage.
‘Are you lost?’ the guys next to her asks me in a friendly and slightly condescending voice; one that I’ve heard adults use on children before.
I blink up at him, taking in his dark hair that’s up in a topknot, and the horn-rimmed glasses. His T-shirt has a band logo on it, and he’s wearing suspenders with a burgundy cardigan around his neck. Guys who look like him come into Grinder with books they’re not really reading so they can talk about them when they approach girls and sound smart. Lu calls them ‘lowlife hipster scum’ but doesn’tmake them leave because they drink coffee like it’s ‘going out of fashion’ – also her words. I think he might be one of the guys who comes in, actually, but I can’t be sure because I barely look at their faces.
‘No,’ I say.
‘What’s with the notebook?’
The girl laughs. ‘So retro. Where’s your laptop?’
‘I ...’,don’t have one,‘forgot it.’
Even I can see the sneers on their faces at my answer and I glance around me. Everyone’s watching our exchange. Who are these two?
‘I haven’t seen you before. What’s your name?’
‘Daisy. Evans. I just transferred here.’
Her lip curls even further.
‘I’m on the social team. I have a list of all the transfers. You aren’t on it.’
She looks smug, as if she thinks I’m lying and she’s caught me out.
‘I changed majors yesterday,’ I mutter.
‘Three weeks in? Really?’ Her tone is disdainful.
She’s actually so blatant in her body language, expression, and voice that it’s quite easy for me to read her. Subtle this girl is not. It would be nice if she wasn’t turning her ire on me and making me the focus of the whole room though.
My hands fall to my lap and I’m glad the small desk in front of me hides them because my fingers are twitching noticeably.
‘Yes,’ I say.
I’m having to force my words out already. My heart is pounding hard.
