Part One: Monday Classes
While his friends chowed down leisurely on their sausage and hot cakes breakfast, Zane had not been having quite as good a time. He arrived at his biochemistry lab ten minutes late, which wouldn't have been so bad except for one thing—he was teaching it.
Zane's frat brothers affectionately called him boy-genius, because he was the scholarship kid, the one who'd already had several pieces of fiction and essays published, the one who'd gotten a political science award in high school, one that was usually awarded to grad students. Also that kid who turned out to be more pretty boy than Dungeons and Dragons nerd (though he did like him some D&D once in a while...)
He was a poster child for more than one academic department, including Chemistry. Which was why the Chair had specially requested him as a Teaching Assistant for a Biochemistry lab. Maybe he should have thought twice about it, Zane fumed to himself.
Ten students looked up as the frazzled, good-looking blonde burst in unceremoniously, adorned in only a Crown University T-shirt and pajama pants. The group of doctor hopefuls blinked.
"Hey guys!" Zane hurried to sit down and hide his legs under the table before anyone could scrutinize the bug-eyed frogs on his pajamas. He glanced at the wall clock with a rueful smile. "Don't you just hate morning labs?" he joked.
No response.
For a moment, Zane wondered if the day's lab involved dissecting live crickets, since he could have sworn he could hear a few.
"Anyway, sorry I'm late. I'm Zane, by the way." He tried to break the ice a little further. "Measuring in at a whopping 5'10, I'm a sophomore and your lab TA! Woohoo," he mock-cheered, grinned 'round—then wondered if it was possible to feel like the dorkiest person in a room of pre-meds and biochemistry majors. "Ahem. Why don't we go around and introduce ourselves?"
He nodded encouragingly after each banal introduction, silently committing everyone's name to memory until they'd reached the last girl, who was seated at his right elbow. "I'm Amy Anderson," she said in a soft voice that sounded like a silver bell.
"AA, huh?" he quipped. "Keep away from the ethanol."
She froze, and Zane was suddenly petrified that he'd offended her. But then she laughed softly. "Well, never heard that one before."
Zane grinned, then realized he was already fifteen minutes behind schedule, and set to work acquainting the group with lab protocols ("I get to see your bright-eyed and bushy-tailed every week!") and safety and how not to catch your hand on fire and/or spray yourself with toxic chemicals.
"Cause if you do, I'm going to have to make you take off your clothes and hop in the shower-" He stopped short in of pointing to the lab shower, upon realizing how bad that sounded. "I mean...well that is what I mean, but-but you know what I mean. Right?" he said helplessly.
The students nodded uncertainly. One girl with curly black hair looked as if she hoped Zane meant something else altogether. She gazed at him dreamily, chin in her hand.
"I promise I'm not trying to sexually harass anyone," Zane assured them, panicking. Amy coughed beside him and he could have sworn she was trying not to smile that subtle smile of hers. "Yes, well, let me just assign your partners and show you this safety video, and we're done for the day!"
To make it easier on himself, Zane passed around a sheet of paper for people to sign their names next to that of their partner-aka, the person they were sitting next to. It wasn't the most high-tech method, but hey, it worked.
Zane glanced back over at Amy, partly because the guy on his other side was...well, a guy, and therefore less interesting. But he found a few more reasons to keep his attention on the girl.
Because in giving her a second glance, he saw that she was pretty darned cute, a sight more than the bespectacled boy (not that he had anything against glasses, but there was a way to be fashionable about buying them, right?). Amy had pulled a notebook out and begun scribbling notes, though he hadn't the vaguest idea what she could be writing. Being a straight to the the point kind of guy he asked her.
"Is my lecturing that interesting already?"
"What? Oh, I-it's more habit than anything, sorry."
"No, don't apologize. I have a thing for girls that are diligent in their note-taking." Zane could have smacked his forehead for the comment. The fact that it was true didn't make it okay for him to say it to a pretty girl.
Amy opened her mouth, but didn't know how to reply to such a comment. Was her TA...flirting with her?
Before he could confirm the suspicion, Zane had raised his voice to review appropriate attire during lab. Which a few students found pretty hilarious.
"So pajamas are okay?"
Zane felt his face become a little flushed, but ultimately nodded, cracking a smile. "Encouraged, almost. I want you guys to be comfortable. Okay, if no one has any more questions or wisecracks about my clothes, let me show you this ancient safety video. I know, very exciting."
When the twenty-year-old film had finally come to a close, the lab students filed out of the room, a few of them murmuring something about "crazy sophomores." As Amy put her notebook away—though heaven knew why she'd been taking notes—Zane impulsively found himself saying: "So, we didn't get to hear what your year was or anything."
The girl looked up in surprise and Zane was caught off-guard by her startlingly big, blue eyes and dark, dark lashes. "I'm a sophomore, too."
"Yeah? That's pretty young to be taking biochem."
Amy gave him a frank, pointed look and he laughed his merry laugh. "Yeah, I know, I've obviously already taken it; but that's 'cause I was here for the summer session."
"Still, to be a TA, that's a big deal."
"Must be, huh?" Her brow puckered at this cockiness and he hurried to say, "But I guess the two of us are the kids here," Zane laughed awkwardly. He looked down at his pajama pants, patting one of the frogs. "Man, I am so not the "cool" TA I thought I'd be," he joked.
Amy mistook the comment for a serious one. "Oh no, I'm sure it's not as bad as you think." She hesitated. "In fact, my lab partner kept whispering about how um, well..." Amy trailed off, a blush coming into her face.
"How?"
Steeling herself, Ami continued: "How uh c-cute you were—are." She didn't meet his eye.
For some reason, Zane found the blush in Amy's cheeks much more endearing than the gushings of her lab partner. Amy hurried to shoulder her book bag, wondering what had come over her to say that.
"I'll see you next lab, Amy" Zane called as she bustled out.
Little knowing it would actually be even sooner than that.
Despite Jed's casual decision to skip class the rest of the day, he decided to at least go to his last Monday seminar-which took place at the most agreeable time of 2:30. Having scarfed down a health lunch of cheesesteak sandwiches, the blonde walked towards the building that housed the History department. His "Ancient Civilizations" class had been a whim of his; Jed was a sociology major and though he cared more for modern history and studies, he figured this course could be interesting.
He discovered just how wrong he was a mere five minutes into the lecture. The syllabus was freaking LONG. That was the intellectual deciding factor when it came to staying in a class. Plus, the teacher wasn't even fun to look at, being a stooping British man who spoke slowly and sounded like he had marbles in his mouth. Jed began to scribble on his copy of the syllabus. He doodled, drawing stars and squiggles and ultimately, a miniature dragon. He leaned his head back to admire his handiwork— but a little too far because it caused him to accidentally hit the person behind him with his own head.
"Ouch," whispered the girl.
"Sorry," Jed apologized. He was about to turn around to repeat the apology when the professor caught his eye and frowned darkly. Jed ducked his head and tried to follow along in the syllabus. His eyes fell to the subheading that read "Tests."
Three midterms! A term only had ONE middle, not three!
"Ridiculous," Jed muttered. Nothing was going to keep him from dropping this class as soon as he could.
"No kidding," murmured the girl whose head he'd hit.
Jed turned around this time to throw a grin in his like-minded peer's direction, but that wasn't quite what he ended up doing. He turned all right, and began to smile, but stopped dead in when his eyes reached the girls' face. And every word he could have said was caught in his throat, except for one.
Beautiful.
"Excuse me?" the girl whispered, clearly affronted.
Had he said that out loud?
...Who cared?
Her face looked as if the Greeks themselves had sculpted it out of marble. Smooth, classic lines, a pixie nose that led up to dark eyes. She looked like a "Wasian" mix, with her delicately wrought features and indigo eyes too big and blue-tinged to belong to someone who was all Oriental. Her hair was an unwavering sheet of obsidian black, worn loose down her back. She had turned the edges of coral lips into an hard, unamused frown, but that just intrigued him more.
A single thought reverberated in Jed's head now: he was definitely not dropping the class.
The perfect girl drew her eyebrows down into a more defined frown. She rose up out of her desk, looking almost majestic doing it. Jed gave a start as he realized that the teacher had finished with his preparatory lecture and class was over. Before the girl could walk out, though, Jed held out a hand.
"Hold on. What's your name?"
She looked down her nose at him—literally. "See you Wednesday."
With that she started making her way to the door, but Jed wouldn't allow those to be her parting words. He scurried after her. "Cute," he allowed, "but seriously, what is it? I'm Jed," he informed her with a suave smile.
They were outside by this time, and the sun filtering through a nearby tree fell across her shoulder, illuminating her white blouse and khaki skirt, just the right length for him to appreciate her creamy thighs and toned calves. She turned to look at him and he was momentarily taken aback by the unmistakeable dislike in her eyes.
It seemed to say: Typical man.
"It's Raye," she said shortly. "And I have class, so if you'll excuse me."
He did, not especially put off by her demeanor. More intrigued than anything. His lips quirked and he walked back to the house, humming "I'm a Believer."