I was just walking to class, down that creepy fluorescent-lit hallway—well, I was really walking to the bathroom before class, I suppose—when suddenly all the people in the hall began to move in the same direction. I got caught up in it, like one gets caught in a rip tide.
I floated along till I was in this classroom, and I took a seat next to this boy with luminous, brown hair and soft, creamy skin. The boy was glad I had sat next to him—I could tell because he kept twitching his nose. I was wearing Obsession, a fragrance by Calvin Klein.
How serendipitous that I had drifted into this class to meet this boy! I wondered what we would do on our first date; maybe we would walk along the abandoned train tracks, hopping from rail to rail and relaying stories from childhood. But what’s that sound? We’d jump off the tracks and—filled with adrenaline—cling to each other as the train thundered past. I would apologize profusely: I thought those tracks were abandoned! With a gentle kiss he would stop my mouth, and I’d run my hands through his shampooed and conditioned hair.
“Excuse me, miss?”
I looked up from the boy to see the professor looking down at me.
“I’m sorry—are you in this class? I don’t recognize you.”
There were several other people in the class; I was surprised he even noticed me.
“What class is this?” I asked.
“Abnormal Psychology.” The professor stood close to me, and I could see the liver spots on his hands. There were liver spots on his head too, which was balding and reflected the fluorescent lights in the ceiling.
“No, I’m not in this class.”
“I’ll need to ask you to leave, then.”
“OK. I have to pee anyway.” I left the room, reminding myself not to confuse a full bladder with love.
