Page 8 of Falling With a Spin

“Well, I just took a shower because it was very much needed after that party that I went to. I also saw your friend there, and I couldn’t get enough of her the last time, so we went at it again.” A smirk rises on Towel Guy's face.

My mouth falls open at what he just said. He proceeds to take my coffee from my hand like he owns it, taking a sip from the cup, his brown eyes never leaving mine.

“Also, sweetheart, flies will catch in your mouth if you keep it open any longer.” He places two fingers under my chin and closes my mouth, placing the cup back in my hand.

My cheeks flush red at the embarrassment, and I avert my gaze. My throat is suddenly feeling dry, and the kitchen is becoming extremely small. I walk around him and head straight to the door just as Taylor exits her room. She is in a tiny pink robe with a smirk on her lips. She looks between us and just laughs as she approaches Towel Guy.

“Garrett, are you torturing my best friend?” She questions him while walking over to the coffee maker and pours herself a cup of coffee in the same one she uses daily. An all-around pink cup with cat whiskers on it and a round handle in the shape of a tail.

“I wasn’t torturing her.” He rolls his eyes at her. “She asked what I was doing here, and I explained exactly why.”

I roll my eyes and look over to where Taylor stands. All she does is shrug and sips on her drink.

“I'm going to class, but can you make sure this-” I point to the towel guy named Garrett “-is gone before I come home? My date with Chad is tonight, and when he picks me up tonight, I’d prefer him not to see a random guy in here, even when it doesn’t belong to me.” I’m almost out the door before she calls back for me.

“There is a party on Saturday night, and you are going,” she tells me instead of asking. I open my mouth to protest, but she shakes her head. “Don’t try to get out of this one. You promised me you would go, so you are going to keep that promise.”

“Fine. I will see if Chad wants to go as well.” I open the door and walk towards the elevator. Pulling out my phone, I quickly text Chad about the party.

We live on the top of a twenty-floor building, and waiting for the elevator to arrive is like watching paint dry. I tap my foot, looking at my watch. Class starts in thirty minutes and is about a fifteen-minute walk from the front doors to my classroom. The doors open, and I burst in, hitting the close button about a million times, almost breaking it. Finally, taking a deep breath as the doors close, I think about what Chad might have planned for us tonight. I’ll end up staying the night at his place since we would get home late, and I don’t want to cut the night short. Especially since Taylor and I went shopping the other day. I bought this red lace, two piece lingerie set that caught my eye that has little bows on the sides and hugs all the right places. When I wear it tonight, I hope it sparks something in our relationship. It seems like all we've been doing is having sex. There is nothing to keep it interesting, no matter what I try to do or suggest.

The bing of the elevator tears me from my thoughts, and I sprint out of the elevator through the lobby doors. I arrive on campus in record time and have a few minutes to spare. The campus is full of students as they lounge in the quad, talking with one another, or study for their classes. With the weather becoming cooler, there isn’t much change, but the leaves start to fall slowly, gathering on the grass. But, when the snow comes, the whole campus will turn into a Winter Wonderland, and it’s my favorite time of the year.

“Alright, class, I will hand out today's test. There are ten problems for each of the chapters we have gone over, and you may use whatever notes you have from the lectures and a calculator. Each question is worth five points. You may not ask for help from any other student or myself. You have one hour to complete this. If you finish before the hour ends, hand me your test face down, and then you’re free to go. Does anyone have any questions?” Professor Mikens looks around the room, my leg bouncing from the nerves.

I’ve been studying day and night since he mentioned the test at the beginning of the year. Most mornings, I would wake up with the textbook glued to my head from late-night studying. I took notes on everything he taught, even if I wasn’t sure it would be on the test.

Anxiety rolls through me, and the itch to dance causes a wave of sadness to mix with the anxiety. I close my eyes, taking a deep breath in. I’m already on the cusp of failing this class, which would cause me to lose my scholarship. Juilliard pulled my scholarship because of the accident during my Junior year since I would no longer be going. It created a lot of darkness inside me; it still lingers, but I chose to work hard my senior year to earn the grades for a partial or full ride for any school that would take me. I knew coming to college would be challenging, but I didn’t expect it to be like this. Nights staying up reading pages and pages for just one class while attempting to write an essay on a topic you don’t quite agree with for another. There are days when I’ve wanted to throw it all out the window, drive back home, and forget all about this. By doing that, I would be throwing out all of my hard work, and for what? Because something gets hard? Nope.

“You have exactly one-” Professor Mikens stops talking when the classroom door swings open, and a girl with long black hair and thin-rimmed glasses comes storming in. She is wearing a yellow sweatshirt and black leggings.

“Oh, how nice for you to join us, Layla Griffin.” He says without looking up from his desk.

Layla’s face flushes red as she closes the door softly, “Sorry, Professor, my alarm never went off, and I was up late studying for today’s test, and I must-”

“If you’re done interrupting my class, you may sit next to Emma.” He holds out his hand towards the empty seat next to mine.

She quickly sits down, and just as the test is getting handed out, I lay out my notebook, pencils, and calculator. I let myself breathe and relax, but a sudden squeak from the right of me has me snapping my head towards Layla.

She looks up towards me, lips pressed into a thin and fingers trembling on her bag. “Hi, um, do you have an extra pencil?”

“Yeah, of course. I also have an extra calculator if you need that, too.” I hand her one of my extra pencils with an assortment of pigs on them and my black calculator. Giving her a reassuring smile, I say, “It’s okay. I have been where you are countless times.” She gives me a small smile and turns back toward the front of the classroom.

“As I was saying, you have exactly one hour to complete it.” He looks around the room, making sure we each have a packet. “You may begin.”

I look at the first question and search my notes for the example, trying to remember the steps to the equation. The only noise you can hear in the classroom is the ruffling of papers as students flip through their notes. You can almost hear a pin drop. Then, all of a sudden, a pop and then a fizzing sound comes from the right of me. Everyone turns their head to Layla, who has a Coca-Cola in her hand. She takes a sip and places it down on her desk.

My eyes go wide in shock. I whisper, “You have a Coca-Cola in your bag but not a pencil or calculator?”

She looks back at me, shrugging and taking another sip before putting it down. “Semantics,” she waves her hand and returns to her test. A chuckle comes from me, and I return to my test just as everyone else does.

Over time, the classroom clears from students finishing their tests, and the Professor gives the ten-minute warning. My anxiety starts rising as the time ticks down. I’ve been stuck on the last question and can’t find an example for it. I turn to the previous page of my notes to see that I’m missing a page. My stomach drops, and my breathing becomes ragged as nausea churns in my stomach.

I have two options here.

1) I can throw up all over the place and hope to be given the option to retake it.

2) I can give a bullshit answer and pray that it will be correct.

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