Page 54 of Becoming Selfish

Well, this is going to be an easy one. A couple of pages about my love for hockey should be a breeze.

“Your paper is due next Monday. I want five pages written about your passion in life. Now, I know I said this class would be easy, but I can’t make it that easy. You’re not going to be writing about yourself. You’re going to be writing about one of your peers, another student in this class.”

A girl in the front row shoots up her hand to ask a question, but Kenny ignores it.

“No, you cannot pick your partner for this assignment,” he answers her unasked question. “I already have you assigned.”

The girl slowly lowers her hand back down.

“I don’t care if your BFFFF is in this class.” The crowd chuckles. “I don’t want you to write about someone you already know. This paper is to get you to learn about someone new. Open up your perspective on another person’s life. Find out what makes you different, and find out what makes you alike.”

I glance down to Logan, praying that somehow I got partnered with her, knowing my chances are slim as this class is filled with a hundred or so students.

“You’re assigned in alphabetical order,” he adds.

Fuck yes. My odds just got better. I know that ‘Leo’ and ‘Maddison’ have to be near each other on the list.

Kenny walks back over to his computer and projects the pairings on the big screen hanging in the front of the room. The list begins with ‘Aarons’ and ‘Adler’ then ‘Anderson’ and ‘Barr.’ I scan the names until my own name catches my eye somewhere in the middle of the screen. I swear I’m the luckiest son of a bitch in this room because I’m partnered with the name above mine, ‘Leo.’

Logan turns around to face me. She shakes her head in disbelief with a sly grin on her face. I can tell that she’s wondering to herself if I somehow planned this, even though there is no way that I could have. Knowingly shrugging my shoulders, I flash my cockiest smile and pretend that I did indeed have a hand in this.

Kenny places a piece of paper on his desk. “Take the rest of the class to find your partner and exchange numbers, or Instagrams, or tweets, or whatever the hell you kids do now.” He earns another laugh from the crowd. “You can use the remainder of the hour to interview your partner now, or you can do it later this week. I don’t really give a shit. But I want your paper turned in by the beginning of class on Monday. Don’t forget to sign in before you leave.” He taps the paper on his desk before taking a seat in the chair behind it and pulling out a book to read.

The class erupts with students calling out their own name or their partner’s name, and the room is so loud that I can barely hear myself think. I grab my bag and walk down to Logan’s row just as she’s gathering her things. When she spots me in the aisle, I gesture towards the exit, and she nods in agreement before following me down to Kenny’s desk to sign in. I’m in front of her, but I move out of the way to let her sign before taking my turn.

The cold air hits me as soon as we walk outside, and I cross my arms tightly to keep the warmth in. Logan is only wearing an oversized graphic T-shirt and baggy jeans with holes in them, and she’s somehow made her tomboy outfit look sexy and feminine. But as good as she looks, I know she must be freezing. By the time we are only ten yards away from the building, about to cross the street, her arms are covered in goosebumps, and her nose is beginning to turn red.

When we stop to wait for the light to change at the crosswalk, I say, “Alright, Miss ‘I’m from California, where it’s 72 degrees year-round’, why aren’t you wearing a jacket?” I take mine off and wrap it around her shoulders.

“It wasn’t cold when I left this morning.” She shrugs, her teeth chattering as she holds my jacket tightly to her body.

“Welcome to Minnesota, where you don’t know what the hell the weather is going to do.”

“Well, thank you,” she says, referring to my jacket as she slips her arms through. It’s way too big on her, but still, it looks better on her than on me.

The crosswalk light turns green, and we begin to walk again.

“So, how much did you pay Kenny to pair us up?” she teases.

“You don’t even want to know,” I banter back with her, sarcastically shaking my head.

We stop walking when we make it to the other side of the street.

“So, when do you want to do this? We can do it now, or we can get together later this week?” she asks.

“How about later?” I suggest, knowing that if we make plans, I’m guaranteed to see her again before next Monday. “I have our first official practice soon, and I don’t want to rush my opportunity to ask you all of my burning questions.” I give her an arrogant smirk as I put my hands in my pockets, hoping to warm them.

“We will see about that,” she teases, but I can sense the unrest she has at the thought of my prying. “When is good for you?”

“Tomorrow?”

“I can’t. I have a late class on Tuesdays. And Thursday I have a study session planned with Ali.” She ponders for a moment. “Wednesday?”

“Wednesday is no good for me. We have weight lifting before a two-hour skate. How about Friday night, after my practice?”

“Are you sure you want to waste a Friday night working on our assignment?” She seems unconvinced.

“There’s nothing else I would rather be doing,” I say in a sarcastic tone, but in reality, I’m not joking, not even in the slightest.

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