Fearless

I settled down in the lecture hall, crossing my left leg over my right, as I waited for class to begin. As usual, I was one of the first few to arrive, and there was at least ten minutes before the professor would show up.

I brushed away a longer strand of my short hair, getting it out of my eye, where it had decided to make its home for a minute.

A few more people made their way around to their seats, chatting quietly, as I booted up my laptop. Thankfully, I’d remembered to silence the volume before I’d shut it down the night before, so it didn’t make an irritating melody-sound when it turned on.

I opened a word document page and prepared to take detailed notes on the lecture.

A feeling of dread coursed through me as I realized that I’d forgotten to have a cup of coffee that morning. Which meant that I was going to get a splitting headache halfway through the class, and I wasn’t going to be able to focus.

I groaned and checked the clock. Four minutes. There was no way that I could go three buildings away to the Dunkin Donuts, get a coffee, and get back in time. So I was just going to have to deal until the end of the hour and a half.

Less than a minute later, my professor walked in, her fiery red hair pulled into a tight bun away from her face, making her angular nose look even more pronounced. At the front of the class, she shuffled papers around, probably the assignments we'd passed in the week before. One that I’d passed in a day late.

“Alright, let’s get started by passing back your last reports,” she started exactly on time. “Jazmine Little?”

I took the paper, muttering a thank you, before returning to my seat.

She’d written a huge A at the top of the paper in red ink, circling it a couple times. Underneath, she wrote, “Beautifully written” in her neat script.

I let out a sigh of relief and tucked the paper into my bag, trying not to swell with pride.

* * *

Just as I expected, by the end of class, my head hurt so badly that I could barely see straight. Taking a deep breath to regain my composure, I headed over to the desired building to get my fix of caffeine.

When I arrived, there was thankfully no line. Ah, the benefits of taking a weekend course at ten in the morning.

The guy behind the counter was around my height with blonde hair that was dark at the roots and super blue eyes. When he smiled at me, I noticed that his teeth were really crooked, but it was kind of cute.

“Hey there,” he greeted in a thick accent. Maybe Irish or Scottish. “Can I help you?”

“Yeah,” I replied before giving him my usual order: a large mocha almond iced coffee with just cream and an extra shot of caffeine.

He told me the price, and I paid, trying to ignore the fact that I only had five dollars left in my wallet. Time to visit my grandmother again.

As he prepared my coffee, I leaned against the wall next to the counter, leaving a space for the next person in line to be helped. Not surprisingly, the guy was from my English class, the one I’d just left.

“Have a nice day,” the blonde guy granted as he slid my coffee along the counter.

“Thanks. You, too,” I responded politely.

The second the chilly coffee hit my taste buds, I felt a tingle go through my body, almost as if the caffeine was starting to take effect already.

I settled down on a bench and took another sip of my coffee, my dark eyes surveying the nearly barren campus. The trees were all without leaves, the air was chilly, and lots of the grass had turned brown with death. It was obvious that winter was approaching, and, soon, the world would be covered with white snow that soon turned gray, and then black, from all the smog lingering heavily in the air.

My phone went off in my bag, playing a snippet of Pumped Up Kicks by Foster the People. Morbid, I know, but I loved the song too much to pass up the opportunity when I saw it available for free ringtone download.

hi sry jaz r u in class

I struggled to keep my composure as I stared at the text I got from Rachel. But instead of texting her back, the rational choice, I called her.

The phone only a rang a couple of times before her voice came over the line. “Jaz?”

“What’s wrong?” was my only response.

A heart-wrenching sob sounded back at me, followed by the sound of her sniffling. “Jazzy, I just lost my job. They just fired me.”

I felt my whole body deflate. Without Rachel’s job, we had no means of paying for the apartment, buying groceries, keeping our cable or internet. Nothing. “It’s okay,” I told her, even though it wasn’t.

“Stop lying!” she screeched, her voice wavering with emotions. “It’s not okay. I showed up, and because I was so tired from puking all night, I dropped a tray of food on a customer and got into an argument with my boss on the main dining floor. And now I have no job, and we’re going to get evicted from our apartment.”

“We’re not going to get evicted,” I replied. A level head was always best. “We’re going to be fine. Just take a couple of deep breaths.”

“This isn’t yoga class, Jaz!”

That was for sure. “But getting worked up over it isn’t going to help anyone.” I pinched the bridge of my nose and put my coffee on the bench next to me before leaning over, digging my elbows into my thighs as I talked. “Look, I’ll go visit Nonny and explain the situation to her.”

“Thanks, Jaz. You’re the best. I’m going to try to get some sleep.”

“Do that. I’ll tell you what happens when I get home.”

“Great. I love you.”

“Love you, too. Bye.”

I took the phone away from my ear and hung up. I knew it was only a matter of time before I had to have the conversation with Nonny that I hated. It was at the point where she knew that if I showed up, I was just begging for money. Not that it meant she wouldn’t give me handouts; I just felt guilty about accepting them.

If only I had more time so I could get a job, but between school and taking care of my older cousin, I really had no chance.

Plucking up my courage, I got to my feet and walked off the campus to get to the subway three blocks away so I could get to Nonny’s apartment in downtown Queens.