Girls Like Boys

Jack glanced at my notes as he leaned over. His shoulder brushed against mine when he slouched further down into his chair. “I definitely had you pinned as someone who was going to be late for every class,” he said, light enough to let me know he was joking.

I smiled despite his jab and shook my head. “Travis drove Ramsy today, so we were on campus earlier than usual,” I explained. We still had fifteen minutes before class started and the professor wasn’t here yet. I was surprised by how many of my classmates were.

Jack shifted, pressing back against the seat. “Who’s Ramsy?” His eyes stayed trained on me. They were light brown with flecks of yellow near the center.

I was stunned by the question. I couldn’t remember if anyone had ever asked me who Ram was. We’d been in school together all our lives, shared all the same friends. There wasn’t anyone who knew me that didn’t know her too. My voice quickly caught up to my brain. “My sister,” I answered, “She’s my roommate.”

“Ohh.” Jack nodded. Smiling, he said, “I should’ve guessed. Cody and Ramsy. It goes well together.” He pulled his feet up, putting them on the seat in front of him. The maroon cushions reminded me of our movie theatre back home. This room was paneled wood and dingy red cushions off set by a large white projector screen.

“Our brother’s name is Wesley,” I told him.

“Were you supposed to be boys?” Jack questioned.

“No,” I denied, “our mother picked out really girly names for Ramsy and I, but Charlie changed them when she left.”

“How old were you?” Jack asked. He spoke quietly, uncertain, slower than usual. I wasn’t sure if he was more put off over the fact that she left or that our dad changed our names to spite her.

“About a week,” I said, “so it wasn’t big deal.”

He nodded as he spoke. “Cody suits you.” He dropped his feet so he could reach into his backpack. He pulled out his book and flipped through it until he found was he was looking for. He stuffed my assignment towards me. “This was good, Cody,” he said, “You should’ve mentioned that you can write like that.”

I took the short story from him, glancing at the notes near the top as I slipped it into my notebook. “It’s not something I do much of,” I replied, reaching down for my folder so I could grab Landon’s writing. We’d swapped between the three of us. The assignment was to write a five to seven page short story using a character completely opposite from yourself. Landon’s focused on a girl from Earth who was sweltered by her aloneness in the universe.

I passed it across Jack to hand it back to him. “You should really show that to somebody,” I said as he took it from my fingers. “It was amazing.”

Landon smiled and nodded. He set it down on the desk and flipped a couple pages to check out the comments. He had Jack’s but neither of them looked concerned about it.

Professor Rizzaldi came in from the back of the room today, passing all of us as she headed down to the front. Everyone quieted as she walked down, briefcase in hand.

“I hope by now you’ve all read the stories you were given and made comments like I asked you to. If you haven’t, you’re doing your peers and yourself a huge disservice. I suggest you correct that mistake as soon as possible. If you did what you were told, go ahead and switch your papers back.

“I want rewrites by Wednesday. You’ll quickly learn that all your assignments are due on Wednesdays. You’ll have the rest of Wednesday and Thursday to comment and correct each other’s stories, and Friday through Tuesday to write them. You can only swap with the same person twice.”

She went on to explain that we’d be writing new stories every two weeks. One week to write and one to revise and then we’d turn both copies in. At the end of the semester, we had to have all our stories completely revised and turned in for our portfolios.

We spent the class period talking about writing styles and techniques. She quoted from classic authors and made novel recommendations the entire period. There was a whole page in my notebook designated to every and all books she named. From just the last week, there were already five on the list.

She ended class a couple minutes after we were supposed to and everyone was growing more and more antsy. When she finally dismissed us, I already had my stuff packed away and I scrambled up from my chair within a second. Jack looked at me, amused, and gathered his stuff together.

“Come on, lets go,” I urged, hoping it sounded more encouraging than pushy.

Jack laughed and climbed up, following Landon out of the aisle. I called a goodbye as I brushed past them and darted towards the stairs to beat the second wave of students. I trampled down the stairs and ducked out of the stairwell. I had seven minutes to find a classroom in a building I’d never been before.

“Cody, wait!”

“Code!”

I paused just outside the main doors of the English building. It was technically called Monteville, but I hadn’t heard anyone refer to it as anything other than ‘the English Building.' Jack came up behind me, lightly grabbing my backpack to stop me as he stepped around me into my sight.

Behind him, Travis sat on the same rail as Monday and Wednesday. I gave him a look that said I’d be right there and turned my attention to Jack. “What’s up?” I asked quickly, grabbing the straps of my backpack.

“You ran out so fast I didn’t have a chance to ask if you wanted to hangout with me next weekend,” he answered, blue eyes on mine. Light. “I figured we could get something to eat and hangout at my dorm. One of my roommates is going home so it won’t be so crowded.”

“Yeah, sure,” I said. “I’m down for movies and food. What day?”

“Well, I figured you’re busy this weekend and it’s pretty late notice,” he replied with a shrug. “Do you know where Lakeside is? I’m in a suite in West Hall. If not I can meet you at your dorm on Saturday and we can walk over together.”

“I haven’t been there, but I could probably find it. You don’t need to walk all the way over to Tutwiler and back.” I felt my pockets for my phone, trying to figure out where I’d stuck it in my haste. I slipped it out and unlocked it quickly, catching Jack’s attention. “Anyway, put your number in and I’ll text you. I’m really running late. I have class after this on Fridays.”

I looked up when Jack didn’t take the phone from me. I scowled slightly and turned around, following his gaze directly to Travis. The dark haired boy stood now, standing along the railing. His bag was dropped at his feet and he had a cigarette between his lips. He was staring directly at us.

“Are you with that guy?” Jack asked, dropping his gaze back to me. "He's always with you."

“Travis?” I repeated. “No, we’re friends. He's in my next class,” I checked the time. “In three minutes.”

Travis must’ve seen the conversation loll, because he picked his backpack up and slung it over one shoulder. He was at my side in a second. “Code, I’m trying to give you a minute here, but we literally have about a minute before we’re supposed to have our asses in seats, so if you could hurry up, that’d be great.” His shoulder bumped mine as he stopped slightly behind me.

“Yeah, Trav, I know,” I countered. “Number,” I reminded Jack.

He nodded and took the iPhone. He typed in his name and number and then handed it back over. He smiled. “I’ll see you Monday, Cody. Sorry about making you late.”

“You’re forgiven,” Travis muttered. He reached out for my hand and grabbed it, pulling me away. “Good job, casanova. Now we’re both late. You could’ve texted me to let me know you were more worried about getting dates than getting to class on time.”

I pulled my hand free from his. “It’s not a date,” I argued, clicking back into my contacts to find Jack. “We’re going to watch movies and eat.”

“Sounds like dinner and a movie to me,” Travis answered, turning down a sidewalk between the English and Engineering buildings.

“You and I did the exact same thing last night,” I rebutted. I found Jack in my phone, listed as Jackson Ardell. I was surprised by the moniker. I hadn’t heard anyone call him anything other than Jack. I opened up a new text and sent him a message letting him know it was me.

I looked away from my screen and to Travis when he didn’t respond to me. He frowned at the little machine as it sounded a response in my hand. “The difference between me and that boy is that I don’t try to stick my hands down your pants in the middle of the movie.”

I scoffed, dropping my phone to one hand so I could shove him away from me. He laughed, letting me push him to the edge of the sidewalk, and then came back to my side.

“I’m just saying, Cody.”

“Well you can stop ’saying’ and hurry up,” I retorted. The psych building was at the end of the sidewalk just before it curved back towards campus. Travis and I hurried over and up the front steps. The building was practically barren since everyone was already in class. “It’s room 413,” I told Travis, stepping back so he could lead the way.

He nodded and headed right, following the hallway that curved along the back of the building. The only gaps in the painted-white cinderblocks were for doors that opened up into lecture halls. Travis took us to a staircase in the back of the building and we tromped up to the fourth floor together. The door to 413 was practically right at the top.

Travis and I shared a look before he opened it. We were seven minutes late and heads turned on a swivel to look at us as we came in. Trav headed in and straight to the back, looking for a set of seats together. I glanced over to the professor.

She was a dark skinned woman who wore squared glasses and a white dress that went to her knees. She was already behind the desk near the projector. I glanced at the words on the screen before I made eye-contact with her. She stared at us, put off by our late arrival. Travis was almost halfway to the back before I moved. “I’m sorry,” I apologized, offering a polite smile.

I ducked down the rows to join the boy. He was waiting for me in about the center on the room. When he knew I saw him, he slipped his backpack off and dropped into his seat. I maneuvered past people in the row and sat down, grateful not to be the center of attention.

“As I was saying,” the professor continued, eyes straining to see faces among the students, “I’m not going to give you time to read over the syllabus in class today, but I expect it to be read by next week, along with chapters one through three in your textbook. I recommend you take notes as you read but you’re adults, so that’s your choice.

“You should’ve received an email on Tuesday detailing the experiments that you’re required to participate in outside of class. None of you will be performing your own, you’ll simply be the test-subjects of ongoing studies. If you haven’t heard any of this by now, check your student email.”

Travis propped his ankle up on his knee and leaned back in his seat. This lecture hall was different than my English class. The rows weren’t raised one higher than the other. Instead, they’d packed as many desks as possible into a rectangular room and filled it with a hundred students. If I moved three inches to either side, I was flush with the person sitting next to me. No matter how he sat, Travis's knees brushed against the chair in front of him.

Psychology was my only two hour class of the week. The others were fifty minutes or an hour and fifteen minutes, but Psych only met once a week so it made up for the extra inconvenience. The professor passed out the syllabi and told us to put them away for safe keeping. We spent the rest of the class talking about textbooks and where we could find the bulletin board the held the experiment information.

By the last half hour, she’d run out of details to explain to us, so she had us open our textbooks to chapter one. She booted up her powerpoint. “I don’t believe in wasting time,” she said as she clicked through to the first slide. “I don’t post my notes online and I don’t usually end class early. We have a lot of information to get through this semester, so we’ll use every class period to the fullest extent.”

Travis had his head on my shoulder while he shared my book with me. We were far enough back and low enough behind the other students that I hoped the professor couldn’t see us. I lifted my shoulder and dropped it to get Travis to sit up, but he just grinned at me and got comfortable again.

When class adjourned, all one hundred students slithered out of the room. Travis stood up and stretched. He stuffed his blank notebook into his bag. “We should alternate notes,” he said, nodding to my notebook. “That way we both aren’t scrambling to take them everyday.”

“I learn better when I write stuff down,” I pointed out, zipping my bag closed. “If I let you take my notes for me, I won’t remember anything.”

He scoffed. “Yes, you will. You and I both know you’re going to read every chapter she assigns.” His hands landed on my shoulders as we filed out of the classroom, falling into line with all the other people trying to get out of a single door.

“If you want to use my notes, just say so,” I retorted, looking back at him.

He grinned at me. “I’m capable of taking my own notes, Code. I have been here a lot longer than you. I just figured we’d save paper.”

“Use your laptop then,” I joked, turning out from the rows of chairs. We cut across the front of the room where the professor still stood, gathering her things and shutting down the projector. We made eye-contact as I passed her and I watched her gaze move from me to Travis, flickering across his arms like his hands on my shoulders were a bridge from me to him.

I stepped out of the room before she could make eye-contact again. Now in a wider space, Travis came to my side. “Are you hungry?” he asked, peering down at me. “That class dragged. All I could think about was going out for pizza or something.”

I nodded. “Ramsy’s back at the dorm, I think,” I told him, getting my phone out of my pocket. There was another message from Jack that I ignored for now so I could text my sister. “We could pick her up and go to Murphy’s or something.”

“I was hoping you’d say that.” He fished his keys out of his backpack. “I need to take a shower and stuff later though, so I’ll probably just drop you back at Tutwiler after. You’re going to need some beauty sleep if you plan on looking pretty for your date.”

"It's not a date," I answered, "and it's not until next weekend."

Travis grinned at me. "I know."

My lips parted in surprise. “You’re such an asshole,” I commented, laughing slightly as I scoffed at him, “You’re the one that didn’t even brush your teeth today.”

We crossed back behind the building to the parking garage and took the stairs to the the level where the BMW was parked. Travis slipped into the driver’s side. Getting in beside him was becoming a familiar habit.