First Days and Outings
Joe glanced around the deserted classroom and realized that arriving for an 8 AM class at 7:40 was a mistake. Feeling sheepish, he sat near the front of the room and opened his notebook to the first page. He unfolded his schedule, color coded with highlighters that linked each class to its building on the campus map beneath it. His school was massive, but he wasn't worried about navigation; he had already toured the school and located all of his classrooms. I'll be fine. Probably. If I don't get run over by an irresponsible cyclist or a punk on a skateboard…
This was his natural element, and he nearly vibrated with excitement and nerves. He awoke extra early this morning (much to Izzy's annoyance), picked out his favorite clothes, and checked the contents of his duffel bag approximately twelve times. And now, here he was, sitting in the very room that was the start of his road to becoming a doctor. It was surreal, exciting, horrifying. He wished he hadn't arrived so early. The suspense was killing him.
A few minutes later, someone approached, and Joe looked up with irritation. The room was empty; why was someone encroaching on him? He twitched when he found himself staring into an open face with big brown eyes.
"Amy! You're in this class?"
Smiling, she took the seat beside him. "Ayup. Good to see you! I'm so glad I know someone here. I guess you got a five on the AP bio test, too. I was so happy when I found out that it let me skip the first two introductory bio classes and their labs."
"I did, yes," Joe replied, his eyebrows rising. He hadn't expected Amy to be smart, and he probably should have. He remembered her vehemence on the subject of education.
Amy opened her backpack and removed a netbook. She booted up, organized a few folders, then saved a word document with today's date. When she finished, she returned her attention to him. "Is this your schedule? Do you mind if I have a look?"
God help me, he thought as he nodded his assent, causing her smile to brighten. I'm an early bird, but no one should be this bouncy at this hour.
She laughed as she unfolded it. "Wow! I color coded mine, too! We're two peas, you and I. Hey, you're in my organic chemistry class, too! Oh, and we're in the same lab, yay! We should be partners! I always get stuck with people who make me do everything…"
At this point, her soliloquy was falling on deaf ears while Joe's brain churned. For his entire school career, he had suffered with group projects where no one took the work seriously. But if Amy was as focused on school as she said last night, and as smart as her schedule hinted… Could he finally have a group partner who tried as hard as he did?
He heard the word 'Mimi' and snapped into attention with a jolt. "I had lunch with her the other day, and did you know she mentioned you? She seemed disappointed that you haven't contacted her." Amy broke off and tapped a finger against her chin, and Joe's eyes were drawn to her fuchsia nail polish, freshly applied by the look of it, and professionally so. Funny how he could focus in on minutiae when his heart was suddenly hammering.
"Do you like my nails? Mimi did that. She's always trying to pretty me up." Amy paused long enough to sigh. "For a moment, I thought I wasn't going to be given a choice of color."
Joe blanched. Why were they talking about fingernails?! "Er, very nice. But I can't call Mimi; I don't have her number!"
Amy blinked, then laughed, a loud, snorting affair. "I guess she drank too much! She must think she gave it to you, but let me text her and make sure she wants you to have it."
"T-thanks," Joe hardly dared to believe his luck. But upon consideration, it was more like a curse. His nerves would be wrecked until he had Mimi's answer, and he needed to be on his A game for the first day of classes.
The classroom filled in while they talked, and soon, the professor entered. Despite his fears, Joe eased into that familiar zone of focus. In unison, he and Amy pulled out planners and marked the dates of their midterms and major assignments. Then the material began, and Joe wrote frantic notes. Amy was typing, and Joe noticed that she didn't miss a single word of the lecture. He was impressed, and he wondered if she would be willing to email him her notes.
And, with that thought, he realized that he had found a new study buddy. In the past, Izzy was the only classmate he trusted to impact his academic pursuits, but Amy seemed reliable. With that decided, he focused back in, taking careful notes for the remainder of class. Then, he and Amy filed out with the other kids to attend their orgo lecture.
Joe opened a door, passed it off to Amy, and stepped out of the building. The sound of an impact made him turn back. Amy was sprawled on ground, blinking in a bemused sort of way. Her hands closed around her left ankle, and moisture formed in her eyes. Frowning, Joe glanced at the door and realized that there was roughly a three inch gap between the floor level in the building and the cement outside. She must have failed to accommodate for it when she went through the doorway.
Students pushed past her, hardly altering their course, some stepping on her dress. Glowering at the offenders, Joe leaned over her, forcing people to walk around. "Are you alright? C'mon, let's get you out of the way."
He put his hands under Amy's armpits, hoping to help her stand. One moment, she was as loose as a rag doll. Then, tension snapped down her body, and she pulled away from him. She thrashed desperately, like an animal caught in a trap, and Joe jerked his head aside just in time to avoid an elbow to the face. A few students stared, but barely slowed their brisk walking paces.
"Calm down!" Joe cried. "I'm just helping you move, you're being stepped on!" Her tension remained, but Amy stopped struggling, and Joe half hauled her out of the foot traffic.
She hissed and tried her ankle delicately. "I'm really sorry, Joe," she murmured. "I… didn't mean to lash out at you. It just… hurts a lot." It wasn't much of an explanation, but Joe's memory helped fill in the deficiency. He recalled her devastated expression when Tai ordered her not to take drinks from strangers. He shuddered as he connected the evidence, fervently hoping that he was over-analyzing and coming to a false conclusion.
"Don't worry about it," he muttered. "Can you walk?" Amy took a tentative step. She limped a bit, but remained upright.
"I'll walk it off." She swallowed hard, wiped her eyes, and made her way back into the flow of traffic. "We had better hurry."
Joe fell into step beside her, ready to grab her if she fell, but she kept going. He wondered if she sensed that he knew more than she wanted him too; an uncomfortable distance appeared between them, like an invisible wall. He hoped her sunny disposition would resurface before long, as trying as that sometimes was.
That Afternoon
Izzy stared at his monitor, but he couldn't focus on programming. He crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair, trying to pinpoint the source of his distraction. Joe was working at his desk about two yards behind him, but he was silent. It was fairly early in the afternoon, so there was no noise from the hallway. He stared dolefully at the exposed pipes in the ceiling and sighed.
He wasn't plagued by distractions, and he knew it. Treacherously, the problem was lodged in his brain like a stowaway bent on sabotage.
"What's wrong?" Joe asked, and Izzy turned to face him, brow raised.
"What do you mean?" How had Joe known he was struggling? He was focused on studying.
Joe shook his head and grinned. "You keep sighing, and I haven't heard any typing or clicking. What's the matter?"
Although Joe's study habits made him antisocial, and his neuroticism sometimes made him difficult to deal with, he was fairly perceptive. Izzy couldn't help but envy him for that. He didn't have a single social grace, unless you counted his politeness, but people tended to find that as odd as the rest of his interpersonal tendencies.
But right now, he cursed Joe's awareness. "I suppose I've been thinking about that party," he hedged. Joe lifted an eyebrow and wheeled his desk chair closer.
"What about it?" Izzy swallowed a sigh. Apparently this was going to be a full-on discussion.
"It's nothing. I just… I was thinking about the girl we met." Avoiding her name seemed like a way to distance himself from her, as if he could talk about her without actually talking about her.
A strange expression passed Joe's face. His eyes went unfocused and dreamy, and his lower lip dropped while the upper lip curved into a smile. He looked… Well, bluntly, he looked ridiculous.
"God, she was gorgeous," he murmured, and Izzy's eyebrows shot up, nearly flying off his face.
"I, I suppose she was attractive, in her way?" He tilted his head as he struggled to verbalize his thoughts. "There was a… strange hyper-awareness to her expression, at times. But she wasn't especially beautiful, unless my judgment really is that poor."
Joe looked at him as if he had grown a second head. "What? She was the most beautiful person I've ever met." He paused and frowned thoughtfully. "I don't know what you mean by hyper-awareness, either."
Understanding dropped into Izzy's brain with the force of a cascading boulder, and he cracked a smile. "I was referring to Amy, not Mimi." While beautiful, Mimi hadn't interested him; she had struck him as self-centered.
Joe blinked and leaned back in his chair. "Huh. I just assumed… It's hard to notice Amy with Mimi around, although Amy's nice. Actually, we have a few classes in common, and she might be getting me Mimi's number. Maybe I should stop by and ask about that later… Or is that too pushy?"
Something about Joe's expression worried Izzy, although he couldn't pinpoint anything. "Why has Amy been on your mind? I seem to remember you brushing me off when I suggested that you might be interested in her."
Izzy pressed his palm to his forehead and exhaled slowly. This was exactly what he had hoped to avoid. "I have no idea," he snapped, "but I wish it would stop. I have things to do."
"She said she lives on the fourth floor." Joe's expression was an odd mix of interest, hope, and seriousness. "Go see if she's in her room."
"Why?" Izzy shot back. "I told you, I have things to do."
"Izzy, come on. Do you know how rare it is for you to show interest in new people? I'm antisocial too, so don't take this the wrong way, but I'm your only friend. And this is the first time you've mentioned having any kind of interest in a girl, passing or no, ever since-"
"I'm not interested." Izzy's voice was high and tight, and he wished he could pull the words and their revealing tone back. He turned towards his computer and clenched his mouse so tight that the plastic squealed.
"Can you at least tell me why she's stuck in your head?" Izzy twitched, and Joe must have seen it, because he tsked. "I'm just curious. Like I said, you never seem to think about people, except for your parents."
Izzy drummed long, dexterous fingers against the faux wooden surface of his desk. He was bitterly wishing that he had lied at the start of this conversation, but his tendency was to default to the truth. But, as much as he disliked exploring his emotions, his rational mind knew that it was the best way to work through them.
He rubbed the back of his neck and tried to relax. "I'm not sure why. I think part of it is her eyes. There was something about them… It almost felt like she was looking inside my head sometimes. She's just…different."
There was no immediate response, so Izzy faced Joe again. He found him staring thoughtfully at the far wall. "I don't follow," he said at last, shaking his head. "But it sounds like Amy is drawing you in. Wouldn't it be interesting to explore that?"
"It would be interesting to finish my program," Izzy shot back, but his tone was light, almost airy, signaling that Joe's suggestion wasn't of interest. "And what are you, my psychologist?"
"I'm your friend," Joe replied. "And I'm worried. I think you want to widen your circle more than you're willing to admit. You've always been withdrawn, but ever since that mess with Shauna, you've reached new levels of isolation."
A wave of nausea swept over Izzy. It was followed by shame, self-loathing, and misery, although he tried to snuff out that last before he could identify it. By now, he should have been able to hear her name without feeling ill. When was he going to heal, or grow up, or do whatever it was that people did to purge themselves of excruciating memories?
There was a long pause, and Joe sighed. "Just promise me you'll talk to her again soon."
Izzy made a noncommittal sound and returned to his programming.
A Few Days Later
Amy was always seeking privacy on campus. She slept a few feet away from Sora each night. When she showered, nothing but an unlocked door and a semi-transparent curtain stood between her naked body and a public hallway. When she walked to class, she shouldered her way through crowds of students, and when she attended lectures, she scrunched up to avoid knocking into peers. She seemed more likely to run into a unicorn than a quiet, solitary moment around here.
That was why she had no problem eating alone in the cafeteria. Many college students, she knew, were aghast at the thought of solitary dining, but Amy enjoyed popping her earbuds in, opening a book, and ignoring everyone and everything.
Amy sighed at the sight of the crowded dining hall. There was a large area that received little traffic, mostly due to the fact that one had to climb a half-hidden flight of stairs to reach it. Amy lifted her tray and picked her way through the thin spaces between the forest of linoleum tables, heading towards that secret sanctuary.
The chatter faded as Amy climbed the stairs, and each step was a separate relief. When she reached the top, she found about ten people spread over the room. She smiled and headed towards the window tables. The sight of vivid red hair made her come to a pause. It was impossible to see the owner's face from this angle, because they were staring into the luminous screen of a laptop. A sandwich waited, forgotten and half-suspended, in one hand. The other alternated between clicking and moving on the touchpad. Amy tilted her head and tried to inch closer without attracting attention- she'd be embarrassed if this person turned out to be a stranger But soon those deep-set eyes and thick brow identified him as Izzy.
Amy rocked on her heels, hesitating. This was her first time seeing Izzy since the party, and she was surprised by the pleasure the sight of him caused. Still, she did want to read her book and listen to music, and Izzy wasn't even giving his sandwich the time of day. Surely, he didn't want to speak to her (not that she thought he would talk to the sandwich, although that made for an amusing picture).
Izzy must have noticed her movement, because he glanced towards her. Amy smiled, but she had to fight to keep it there. Something unidentifiable passed his dark eyes. Was he happy to see her or annoyed at the prospect of having to chat over lunch? They regarded each other in silence, and it was massively awkward.
She did the only sensible thing: panicked. "Uh, hi, Izzy! May I join you?"
Izzy hesitated, then pulled out the chair beside his. "By all means," he murmured, and Amy grinned. His formal way of speaking was as delightful now as it had been at the party. If she gave her imagination glorious freedom, she could almost convince herself that she was speaking to someone out of an Austen novel. She sat down, placed her tray on the table, then angled her chair to face him.
"Thank you," she said, then popped a pretzel into her mouth. She glanced at his plate and found that he had opted for chips with his sandwich. "They always give me more pretzels than I can eat; would you like some?"
He took a few. Somewhat encouraged by his acceptance, Amy continued, "I'm glad I ran into you. I've been wanting to stop by your room, but Tai mentioned something about you not liking visitors?"
Izzy's answering smile was somewhat rueful. "Joe and I are not the most social creatures, or so I am informed with infuriating frequency. But it's not as if we're pariahs. Feel free to visit."
"Careful! I'll take you up on that. How often do I get to talk to someone who busts the word 'pariah' out?" Izzy exhaled somewhat sharply, and Amy belatedly identified it as a sound of amusement. It was too polite to be a snort, but too understated to be a chuckle.
Amy found herself inching her chair closer to him. She wasn't sure why his strangeness was endearing, but she couldn't deny the effect. "What's the rest of your day like?" she asked. Then she blinked and fell silent. The words had popped out with no real input from her.
Izzy finally seemed to remember that he was here to eat, and he took a few bites. Amy had the sneaking suspicion that he was stalling, using the time to analyze her question. She hardly knew him, but he seemed the type to over-think.
"I'm almost done for the day," he said at last. "I have one more class."
"Me, too. I like to be done with classes early. Most of my days go from eight AM to one or two, except for labs."
"Mm," he grunted. His heavy neutral expression seemed designed to discourage people from trying to talk to him, but it drew Amy like a magnet. Without really realizing it, she vowed to get this recalcitrant boy to talk, to really talk to her, damn it!
"Soooo," she pressed, drumming the table with splayed hands, "what are you doing later? Maybe we can hang out? What with it being Friday, and all."
Izzy's eyes widened. He drew back and tilted his laptop, so that her view of his face was cut off. It was a horrified refusal, and Amy was unable to prevent her rapid deflation. She had never been the popular type in school, but she was more or less well thought of, and no one had recoiled from her like this before.
Abashed and embarrassed, Amy grabbed her tray and began to stand. "S-sorry," she muttered. "I'm bothering you. I'll just… leave."
"Wait!" Amy froze, more out of shock than obedience. Izzy took a deep breath, then closed his laptop. "I apologize. It would be my pleasure to spend some time with you."
Amy raised a brow. "I… really doubt that." The hot, wet touch of a tear on her cheek made her hiss in frustration. Damn it all to hades and back! Why was she overreacting like this?
Izzy held his palms in a pacifying gesture. "Please, have a seat and allow me to explain myself." Amy shifted her weight from foot to foot and worried her lower lip, weighing her options. But the way he spoke reminded her of the scene in Pride and Prejudice where Mr. Darcy leaves an explanatory letter for Elizabeth, and that had her settling her butt back in her chair. She pulled it back, putting more distance between them, and fixed the redhead with an expectant look that made him squirm.
"Well… To be quite frank… You're right." He leaned in closer and lowered his voice. "I'm afraid I panicked. Regrettably, I lack social skills. I've never even been able to discern what the phrase 'hang out' means." He laughed awkwardly, a sound with absolutely no humor.
Amy frowned. Was Izzy being vulnerable, or just making excuses? She took in his expression, his body language, and read the worry in his eyes as genuine.
"'Hang out' usually means that you want to spend time with someone. But sometimes… I think it's also a way to scope out how the other person feels about you. If you say hang out and the other person shows up for a chat, that means one thing. If they invite you to dinner, I guess that could mean something else. So, I guess I should be less vague. I have video games, if you want to play. We could chat or do homework together. Whatever." She wasn't sure what to make of someone who had no social graces, but she didn't want to judge him because of it. Not prematurely, anyway.
Izzy pressed a hand to his chin, a mannerism that Amy was already associating with him. From the look of it, none of those options had interested him. "Could that really be the appeal of the phrase 'hang out?'" he muttered. Amy pressed a hand to her mouth to stifle a laugh.
"Did you hear anything I said after that?" she asked, and he twitched with surprise.
"Ah! Yes. Yes, of course. I'm sure they're all amusing activities." He clasped his hands together between his knees and smiled half-heartedly.
"Riiiiiiiiiight," Amy said, grinning and arching a brow. "Don't look so enthused. I might get the wrong idea."
A quick, short laugh burst from Izzy's lips, and a look of shock followed it. He shook his head, then suddenly grew serious. His eyes moved up and down her body, but he didn't linger on her chest or hips. Amy got the impression that he was just…analyzing. She shifted uncomfortably under his scrutiny.
"There is something I'd like to do," he said slowly. "Would you care to accompany me?"
"Ah," Amy replied, perking up. She truly loved the way he talked. It sparked her wit and seemed to give her permission to wield it. "But you've neglected to mention what this activity is."
Izzy's lips twisted into a smile, one of the first true smiles he had given her without the influence of alcohol. "I'm under the impression that females enjoy surprises."
Amy tipped her head back with laughter. "Don't you 'female' me, Izzy! My name is Amy!" Then she sobered and wrapped her arms around her upper body. "And I'm sorry, I don't mean to be rude, but I won't go to an unknown place with a boy I don't know well."
Izzy blinked, then nodded, and the traces of humor faded from his face. "Yes, of course. I apologize; I didn't mean to put you in that position. I'd like to suggest that we go roller skating this evening. There's a rink about fifteen minutes away. I'd be happy to provide you with the address before we leave."
Amy stared. That raised a lot of questions in a small span of time. "You like to roller skate?" she asked suspiciously.
That dry smile appeared once more. "Shocking, I know," he sighed. "But yes, I'm actually very fond of it. I own skates."
Amy fixed him with an uncertain look, still not entirely buying that Izzy would like roller skating. But she had the answer to her first question, so she went ahead with number two. "You mean it's a fifteen minute walk, or do you have a car?"
"The latter."
"You mean you can escape this place whenever you want?" Amy cried. She collapsed against the frame of the chair. "My parents would never buy me a car…"
"I bought it," was his testy reply. "It's second hand, nothing fancy, but it's in good shape." Amy found herself smiling. This boy just kept rising and rising in her estimation.
"You bought it?" she echoed. "That's so grown up!"
Izzy colored a little, then shrugged. "Are there any other questions?" His tone was harried, but almost warm, at least compared to how he had spoken so far. Amy smiled in response.
"Yes. I haven't roller skated since I was a little girl. I'll be awful. Will that bother you?" She worried her lower lip. At this point, she was surprisingly eager to go, and she was concerned that this might be a deal breaker.
"Not at all," Izzy said, and she sighed with relief. Then he glanced at his wristwatch and blinked. "Ah, I need to finish eating and attend my next class. Shall I stop by your room at seven o'clock?"
"Yeah!" Amy returned her attention to her food, which had waited in forlorn loneliness during their discussion. They chatted about lighter topics for a few minutes (well, Amy chatted and Izzy nodded every now and then), and then parted for their classes.
Amy left the cafeteria in much higher spirits than she had entered it with.
