Chapter Five
Monday mornings are the worst.
Especially when your alarm clock doesn't go off, leaving you without a morning run, a completely disheveled appearance, and an overall terrible start to the day.
So here I am, at seven fifty-five in the morning, nearly sprinting to philosophy. My hair is thrown up in a damp messy bun due to a quick shower and I threw on the grey sweatshirt I left hanging on the back of our desk chair with the first pair of jeans I could find.
Then, just as I'm nearing the building, the sky rumbles and a second later I'm being pelted by cool rain drops. Not thinking, I use my notebook to cover my head and quickly run up the steps of the building. Throwing open the door, I quickly walk down the hallway, and my the obnoxious squeaking of my sneakers echoes across the floor. I reach the philosophy room and after taking in a deep breath, I slowly push open the door. Please don't notice, please don't notice.
"Vanilla!" Trent calls out and just like that everyone's head whips in my direction. Now all of them are first hand witnesses to my rain splattered, windswept appearance. Oblivious to the attention, Trent pats the desk next to him and I have no doubt that my whole face is a bright shade of red as I quickly duck my head and make my way over to the seat. Once seated, I bury my head in my arms and hear a low chuckle escape from beside me before hearing the creak of Trent's seat as he leans over. "Bad morning?"
I turn to him, searing him with my blatant discomfort. "You think?"
This only makes him chuckle again and he leans back in his chair just as Professor Collins walks into the room surprisingly looking worse than I do.
"Hello everyone, sorry I'm late. This rain was... unexpected." He shakes out his umbrella before deciding to just toss it beside his desk along with his briefcase. "Anyway," he rubs his hands together, "let's begin."
****
After a good forty five minutes of trying everything in my power to concentrate, Trent leans over.
"What is that?" He asks scrunching his face up and I do the same only mines in confusion.
"What?" He continues to sniff the air and my face only seems to contort further. He leans closer towards me and I find myself leaning away, wary as to what smell he might be associating with me. With his head still hovering in the air beside me, he sniffs again before nodding to himself.
"Mm, you smell good," he slowly leans back in his chair, "like vanilla, true to your nickname..." He looks back down at his notebook and picks up his pen, now almost whispering to himself. "I like vanilla." I stare at him for a second longer before looking back down at my own notebook unsure of how to respond.
A few minutes later, Professor Collins dismisses us, leaving me to nearly sprint out of the room, but just as I take one step out of the building I'm reminded of the rain as it pitter-patters against the stone steps. Everyone begins to open their umbrellas and pull up the hoods of their rain coats while I internally groan. Am I the only one who didn't know it was going to rain?
Then a black umbrella opens over my head and I look over only to see that Trent is the holder of it.
"You looked like you needed it," He says and I bring a hand up to my chest, clutching my soggy notebook.
"My hero," I sigh dramatically and he chuckles before we walk down the stone steps together. I go to walk across the lawn, but the second my sneaker sinks into the mud I step back. "You know what? I'm just going to run." I turn my face towards the right pathway preparing to run back to my dorm.
"Oh, I can just walk you back to your dorm if you want," Trent offers stepping forward, but I shake my head.
"No, it's okay. I'll run."
"But, Iâ" I step out from the safety of his umbrella.
"I'll see you later!" I call over my shoulder as I start running, and then let out a squeak as the cool rain water begins to seep into my warm clothes.
I burst into my dorm room seeing Stephanie sitting on her bed and she looks up from her phone.
"Well, don't you look like a ball of sunshine," she says taking in my appearance and I shake my head.
"Don't even start." I close the door before dropping my stuff beside my bed.
I kick off my shoes, rip back the covers, and flop down on top of the mattress. "I'm taking a nap," I mutter into my pillow as Stephanie laughs.
****
I wake up to the sound of my phone as it blasts an annoying melody for a ring tone. I reach over the side of the bed and dig around my bag before pulling it out.
"Hello?" I mumble rubbing my eyes.
"Lacie!" My mom's voice rings through the phone making me wince, but a small smile tugs at my lips nonetheless.
"Hi, mom."
"Hi, Laciebug, how are you?" she asks and I let out a little laugh at the nickname.
"I'm alright. How are you?"
"I'm good, just trying to pound chicken while your dad keeps bugging me about not doing it right."
"You're not supposed to pound half of it," Someone mumbles on the other end and then I hear a slam.
"There's no right way to pound chicken!" The yell is completely and totally my moms and I let out another laugh because it feels like I'm sitting there at the kitchen table. My heart tugs a little at the thought.
"Hi, Lacie!" My dad calls.
"Hi, dad!" I say back even though my mom is still the one with the phone under her ear.
"Hold on, Lace, I'm putting you on speaker," She says before I hear a click. "Okay, so anything new?" I wait a few seconds at the sound of rushing water before responding.
"No, not really," I shrug even though she can't see, "college is a lot more boring than I expected." My dad barks out a laugh at this in the background of some chopping and I smile again just picturing the whole scene.
"Well, how's the work load? Is it a lot?" My mom asks, but continues to rustle things around.
"It's getting there," I sigh picking at my comforter.
"Oh well, how's Stephanie and the other girls? They're still okay?"
"Yeah," I glance over at Stephanie's empty bed. "They're really cool actually."
"That's good. Like I said, in high school people can be such a-holes, but in college everyone's a bit more mellowed out."
I let out another laugh. "Yeah, I guess so."
"Ooh is that Lacie?" A higher pitched voice asks and I smile.
"Hi, Layla."
"Lacie!" She greets in response before I hear some more rustling. "I'm stealing the phone!" I hear her yell just before hearing the pounding of her footsteps as she runs out of the room, ignoring our parents' protests. "So," she says after I hear a door slam, "how's college? Is it awesome? Have you been to parties? Ooh, did you drink? I promise I won't tell mom and dad." I shake my head laughing at the sudden interrogation.
"Yes, it's awesome. Yes, I went to a party, but no, I did not drink."
"Aw, well, how are the guys? Are they cute? Because right now, I don't know how I feel about boys. One minute I think they're cute, but then the next minute I catch them laughing at the inappropriate words they carve into the school desks." I let out a laugh. Middle school boys and their repulsiveness.
"Honestly, Lay, boys don't really change."
"Oh come' on, "she groans, "I have higher expectations for college guys."
"Don't we all," I snort. "I will say, though, that since they're finished with puberty, they are way hotter." She's silent for a moment taking in the information.
"But they're still weird?"
"Yup," I nod and she groans again making me laugh.
"Well, what about that guy you met? He's weird too?" I glance out the window located across the room, watching the rain slide down the glass.
"You know what?" I say, finding myself really considering her question. "All guys are weird, if you think about it. Like the male species in general."
"True that." She makes a popping sound with her lips. "Even dad."
I smile. "Even, dad."
"Hey!" I hear a faint voice yell from the other end and we both laugh.
I like to think that it's just a life fact. Guys may be cute, some hot, and some even male model material, but since we're girls and were graced with an extra X chromosome at birth, we will never fully understand their mind frame. So at the end of the day they will always be weird to us as we are to them.
A good kind of weird, of course.