Page 11 of Late Fees

Wyatt

1996

“I like your project,” a girl with tan skin, silky black hair, and dark eyes said with a smile. She was wearing a striped T-shirt and navy-blue corduroy overalls, with her hands tucked into her pockets as she stood over my tiny desk in the enormous auditorium. The lecture had just ended, and I was doodling, knowing I was done with classes for the day. She looked familiar, but that was probably because I’d seen her in class.

“Oh, thanks. It’s a work in progress.”

“Aren’t they all? Mine’s a disaster.”

I smiled, placing my colored pencils back in my backpack.

“Do you have a storyline yet?” she asked, pointing to my sketch pad.

“Working on it but haven’t quite figured it out yet.”

“You have a really unique style,” she said with a smile. “The big eyes remind me a little of Japanese anime.”

“That’s what I was going for.” I licked my lips. “You read anime?”

“My boyfriend does, so I see comics all over his room.” She looked back down at my drawing pad. “I like her red hair. A lot of guys can’t draw curls like that. Well done.”

“Thanks.” I pressed my lips into a thin line, nodding. I’d been toying with the idea of changing my character’s hair color for reasons I had no intention of telling my new acquaintance.

“What are you working on?” I asked, casually changing the subject.

“Ugh, you don’t wanna know. I barely know what it is yet. Just a bunch of jumbled drawings that have no cohesion whatsoever.”

“You still have a few weeks.”

“True. But I doubt I’ll be able to piece it together in time.”

Standing, I crammed my notebook into my backpack and offered her my hand. “I’m Wyatt, by the way.”

With a relaxed grin, she shook my hand. “Dahlia.”

“I’m, uh, heading back to my dorm.”

“Which one?”

“Langford Hall.”

“Me, too.”

“What a coincidence. I’ll walk you.”

Dahlia and I walked across the quad; the frozen ground was beginning to thaw as Illinois eased itself into spring. I was grateful. Winters in Norway seemed to last forever, so it was a relief to hear birds chirping and to see flowers poking out from the earth this early in the year.

“So, your storyline…” Dahlia said. “You forgot to tell me about it.”

“You’re persistent,” I teased, holding on to the base of the straps of my backpack as we walked.

“No. Curious,” she said with a laid-back shrug.

“It’s about a kid who can travel through time. Go anywhere, be anyone.”

“Oooh, the girl with the red hair?”

I hesitated. “No, um…that’s the girl he loves. He can’t seem to find her in time, no matter where he goes.”

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