Charlotte arrived on campus, already 15 minutes late for class. She hurried past the throngs of ignorant freshmen as she rushed to Havemeyer Hall. When she reached her class, 303, she turned the doorknob slowly and slipped inside.
Charlotte frantically searched for a nearby empty seat, but there were none to be found. The door slammed shut behind her, and it seemed a thousand eyes bore back at Charlotte hypercritically.
Her professor, Mr. Donnell, ceased writing on the chalkboard and turned to face her. “Ms. Tate…welcome.” Her face flushed a deep red hue.
“It seems that Mr. Beaumont and Mr. Langley have saved you a seat up front.” The young, erudite blonde gestured to a seat between the two boys. She cleared her throat and made her way to the seat hesitantly.
“I apologize, Mr. Donnell. I was at the doctor’s office,” she lied, sitting.
“Gyno,” Mason Beaumont, Ivy’s boyfriend, laughed loudly. He was a beer-swilling party animal who seemed to always have an opinion about everything. His jet-black hair was always in a state of dishevelment, but it seemed to suit him.
“Yes, Mason, I was at the gynecologist’s office.” Charlotte’s bag dropped to the floor. Mr. Donnell eyed the duo, but ended up shaking his head and proceeding to scrawl some key points on the chalkboard moments later. “By the way, Dr. Altman told me to remind you to keep your vagina clean.”
“Someone’s got her panties in quite a twist,” Mason whispered to Charlotte as she sat down.
Charlotte faced him with an expression of annoyance. “Don’t think – even for a second – that you have any effect on my panties.”
“So what effect do I have?” He asked, turning to face her head on. Mason wasn’t the studious type, but Charlotte was.
She pulled her iPad from her bag and started typing some notes. “None at all.”
Beside her, all Jackson could think about was the way his ex-girlfriend shifted in her chair and how her dark brown hair fanned across her shoulder. He couldn’t help but to admire the way she held her face in her hand, how her nose scrunched when she got mad, and the sweetness of her vanilla perfume. He couldn’t bear it any longer.
Jackson gathered his things and rose abruptly, hurrying past Charlotte and out the door.