Page 2 of Dire Straights

“That’s me.”

“Okay, cool.” He paused slightly, the earnestly happy look on his face flickering off for a brief second. “I-Is everything okay?”

“What?” Guilt poked me in the gut at his worried tone. But if he expected me to be as passionate about creative writing as he apparently was, he was in for a big dose of disappointment. “Yeah, everything’s cool. Why?”

“Oh. You just looked kind of annoyed.”

Great. I was the biggest asshole in the world because I wasn’t jumping for joy over a group project.

“I don’t really like this class,” I admitted. His nervous look dissipated at my response.

“Oh man, me neither,” he said, shaking his head a little. “I don’t know how I’m going to keep coming up with ideas for the whole rest of the semester. We’ve only done, like, two or three and I feel like my brain is cleaned out already.”

I blinked a few times, confused. If he didn’t like the class, then why did he barrel over here like I was running a Black Friday sale from my desk?

“Right,” I agreed, hoping my tone of voice would signify agreement and not the fact that I thought he might be a little mentally off. “Me too.”

“Well, we’ll think of something!” He assured me, his velvety brown eyes practically sparkling. His optimistic tone didn’t inspire confidence in me, but I made sure not to let it show on my face. I wasn’t entirely sure why, but the thought of making him frown again felt out of the question.

The assignment was the most obvious thing in the world. Each pair would need to collaborate on a story about two characters coming together to overcome a conflict. Despite that, the professor had given us all a little wink as she explained the theme, like she’d come up with something incredibly clever.

Ren looked like a complete nerd, so I’d had hope that he could carry me through the assignment, but it became immediately obvious that neither of us were the creative type. Yet here we were, both in creative writing. The struggle was imminent.

“Um, so…” Frowning down at the paper we’d jotted exactly zero ideas down onto, Ren ran a hand through his mop of inky black hair. It flopped back down over his forehead, theoverhead fluorescent lighting sparking highlights through the thick strands as it moved. “I’m stumped.”

“Same.” For some reason, I couldn’t think of even one book that had ever been written in all of human history.

“I think we need to at least decide on a concept today,” he said apologetically, like he’d been the one to come up with the whole stupid idea.

“Yeah,” I agreed, but I was lost.

“Maybe we should think of the problem first, and then we can make up who has to, um, you know, solve it.”

Problems. What kind of problems did I have? The immediate ones that came to mind, my parents’ bitter divorce and my dickhead teammates, weren’t the kind that could be solved by true love or the power of friendship, which is probably what kind of cheesy optimism our professor was looking for.

“What kind of problems do you have?” I finally asked, only because I couldn’t think of anything else to say. I expected him to scoff at my question or laugh it off, but he just lowered his eyes to the desk, eyebrows furrowed.

“Um, just normal stuff, I guess. I know I can be annoying and sometimes people don’t like me because of that.”

“Who called you that?” I asked sharply, instantly irritated by the idea. Who could be such a dick to someone so… Nice? It would be like seeing a puppy on the sidewalk and kicking it into the street. Even I was having trouble, and I didn’t usually care about that kind of thing at all. That was probably why I’d never been able to keep a girlfriend long enough for things to get serious.

He looked surprised by my tone, but thought for a moment before responding. “Oh, I don’t know. A lot of people.” He hesitated, clearing his throat a little. “Actually, that’s why I asked you what was wrong before. I thought maybe you were mad that you’d gotten me as a partner.”

“That wasn’t it,” I quickly asserted. Okay, so I’d been a little annoyed I’d gotten shackled to this dweeb instead of a cute girl. But I sure as hell wasn’t going to tell him that now. “I’m glad we got partnered up. You’re smart.”

His eyes widened at my statement like I’d said something really shocking. “Thanks! I don’t think being smart really helps in this class, though.”

“Well, being dumb doesn’t help either,” I said. A weird surge of pride rushed through me when he laughed, an addictive feeling that made me want to hear it again and again. What was wrong with me? I’d never cared about being liked by anyone before. Especially not some socially awkward geek.

When I glanced at the clock I saw that we had about 90 seconds to come up with a concept that wouldn’t gut the life out of both our grades. Our professor had taken so long yammering on and on that we’d barely had any time to talk it out.

“So listen, I don’t think we’re going to be able to decide on anything today,” I said, stating the obvious.

“Well, I guess I can keep thinking on it tonight and let you know on Friday.” We had creative writing three times a week but our professor was taking Wednesday off, so we wouldn’t see each other again until then. I’d gone into it with the expectation that he would carry me through the assignment, but once again his tone of voice, this time more resigned than nervous, gave me a pop of guilt.

“Nah, I don’t want you to have to do everything.” I racked my brain for what a normal, nice person would say or do in this situation. “Do you have any free afternoons this week?”

“Me?” He asked, even though there was no one else in our vicinity or conversation. “Yeah, totally! I’m free on Wednesday afternoon.”

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