Page 5 of Without a Doubt

Emerson: Glad to hear that. I wanted to check. Still feel a little bad about laughing.

Me: Just a little? I was stung TWICE and you laughed a LOT.

Emerson: I did take you out to eat though.

Me: Not because I was stung. You found out once we got to Smitty's.

Emerson: You're right. That's not why I asked you. Can I make up for laughing at you by taking you out Thursday?

I stare at the message. Catherine thinks there's no harm in going out with him again, and honestly, I want to. I want more of a glimpse into who he is.

Me: Yes, you can.

Emerson: Great. I'll be in touch, Eva. Have a great night and ta

ke care of those legs for me.

My grin is stupid. So is my giggle because geez, really, Eva? Him telling you to take care of your own legs for him is what makes you smile and laugh? Ridiculous. I'm in trouble already.

I have a full day of classes and work afterward. It's going to be such a long day. There are a few things on the bright side. Catherine and I have a class together. My work uniform requires pants, so my ugly stings will be covered. Those are my two positives for the day. We're walking across the courtyard to our class right now. The weather is great and there are plenty of students out and about.

Some are clustered together at picnic tables, laughing and joking. Some are already working on assignments they've been given. A few are making out. Four massive brick buildings surround each side of the courtyard. I hear people rave about the beautiful architecture at universities, but I don't think this is one of those schools.

The buildings, interior and exterior, seem kind of plain to me. Brick on the outside and walls with pictures of alumni, students, and other academic photos to show off on the inside. There's some artwork, trophies, and a ton of bulletin boards. Nothing worth oohing and ahhing over. Well, let me backtrack. The buildings I go into aren't fancy smancy. Or maybe I just don't know how to appreciate those kinds of things. Either way, I obviously spend too much time thinking about it.

Our school is awesome though. We have great athletics, great programs, and I've only had a few professors I wanted to yell at. Lately, with the start of my junior year, I keep being reminded that my time here is dwindling. It makes me sad. My friends are here and I've already spent two years of my life here. I love college. However, I think I'm ready and definitely excited for the next step.

We make a pit stop at a vending machine.

“Who were you texting last night?” Catherine asks as she feeds it her dollar.

“Emerson. We're going out Thursday.” Her soda rolls down and I step up for my turn.

“Sweet. Know any details yet?”

“Nope. Ugh. These things hate me.” My dollar spits back out, as usual. I can never get these damn things to take my money the first time. “It's probably because they know I hate them back.”

Catherine laughs. “Or maybe it's a sign that you drink too many sodas.”

“There's no such thing. Finally!” I slam my open palm on the button of my drink of choice for today, Sprite. It falls to the bottom and Catherine and I continue our way to class once I've retrieved it.

“You work tonight, right?” she asks.

“Yeah. Barry seems to be out of his funk, so he'll be more pleasant to work with.” I work at a local sub restaurant and after a few hours, I'm left alone to work and close. With my school schedule, the manager, Barry, always schedules me to close. It's not too bad because I'm always back to the dorms by nine, which gives me plenty of time to do homework if needed without it being too late. Sometimes, Barry works with me for a few hours. He had a breakup recently and has been moody at work because of it.

We're a little early, so we get our pick of seats. Catherine likes to sit smack dab in the middle. She leads the way to a pair of empty seats there. While first days are usually filled with a lot of nothing, second days are similar. A little more attention is required because we are beginning our course.

As we're dismissed, I get a phone call from Emerson.

“Hello,” I answer, hurrying out of the classroom.

“Hey, I need a second of your time.”

“It took you more than a second to say that, so technically your time is already up,” I point out, smiling when I hear him laugh.

“When is your last class Thursday, Eva?”

“I get out at noon.”

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