Rush

I'm not quite sure where this is going. I guess I'm just going to write out whatever comes to mind.

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2. After Class

The next day I went to class with the incident before still on my mind. Jamie's behavior had been rather confusing. I couldn't help but feel as if there was a joke being played on me, but I tried to shake that thought from my mind. I hadn't done anything worthy of teasing, so there was no need to fear. I slid into my wooden desk by the door, and took out my notebook.

Philosophy of Art was a very interesting class-- it was always enlightening to see what the great thinkers of history had to say on the aesthetic, even if I didn't often agree with them. The class had a habit of giving me new ideas and new avenues to explore. It was somewhat disappointing, then, to look around and see fellow art majors looking as bored as ever.

I started doodling to pass the short time until our professor would enter the classroom. She was rather entertaining-- old, somewhat eccentric, and very straightforward. She had no quarrel with calling out students when they had no substance to what they said, or if they only repeated what they thought she wanted to hear. For that reason, she was often disliked, but it made her my favorite professor outside of my discipline.

Jamie entered the class with long, swift strides, headed at once to the center of the room, where he normally sat. He walked straight passed me, as if he didn't see me sitting right next to the door. He sat down in his desk, and lazily looked around. It was a morning class, and he, along with most of the other students, seemed rather groggy. I was glad I was in the habit of drinking a small amount of coffee with breakfast for that bit of pep.

He seemed to immediately wake up when he spotted me sitting alone again, and he quickly moved to sit next to me.

"Good morning!" he greeted with cheer, and I smiled politely. 

"Good morning, Jamie," I replied, and toyed with my pencil. I wasn't exactly sure how to make conversation with him. "So, uh, what do you think of Hume...?" I asked. Might as well start with the common interest.

"I think he was a little crazy, but I guess I understand why he was so anti-religion. I mean, the church was really mean to him, right?" he asked, and I couldn't help but smile at his simplistic explanation. He smiled right back.

"Hey, you should do that more. Smiling, I mean," he said, and I looked at him with wonder. Where did that come from?

"Okay...?" I honestly didn't know what to say to that. Jamie was a rather forward person, I was beginning to realize, and I wasn't sure how to handle it.

"It looks nice. Are you going to go to free skate tonight?" he asked, and I looked at him blankly. Why did he care? All this newfound attention was starting to make me uncomfortable. I wasn't used to being in anyone's spotlight.

"No, I don't usually go to those events..." I explained, shrinking up a bit in my chair. This only seemed to make him lean in closer, though.

"You should. Let's go together!" he declared, rather than asking. I was about to decline whenever Professor Woolfe entered, lecturing from the moment her foot touched the floor of the classroom. I kept notes as she quickly spoke of Hume, turning on the projector to show us examples of art he would or wouldn't like, and explaining the qualities of why. Though I was struggling to keep up with my notetaking, I couldn't help but notice that Jamie wasn't writing down anything pertaining to class. He seemed to be doodling in his own notebook, but his arm blocked whatever it was. 

The class passed by in the normal frenzy of lecture and notes, and whenever it was time to dismiss, Professor Woolfe reminded us of the paper due the following week. I packed up my things, and turned to Jamie to decline his offer, but he interrupted me.

"I'll pick you up from the caf around 6, okay?" he asked and bolted from the room before I could reply. 

It looked like I was going to be going skating.

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