After Midnight (a.i.)

25

My head aches as it attempts to retain each bullet of information my professor threw at me, lapping around my occupied brain only to vanish into thin air. I was not in the best headspace for focus, especially not with statistics and numbers this late in my day after two other classes. Most of it was self explanatory shit we learned in high school, but my mind didn't want to comprehend whatever the hell he was saying.

I was exhausted from my late night on Saturday, following an even later night yesterday of scurrying around to finish my forgotten assignments. I was running off of maybe four hours of restless sleep, my brain was begging to shut down for a bit.

I barely had the energy to put on pants this morning, rolling out of bed and throwing on an oversized tee and pairing it with a set of denim shorts that happened to be on top of my dresser. Getting dressed in the dark was a struggle, but I wanted to at least let Alex get a good nights sleep. I didn't realize until I arrived in the classroom that I accidentally threw on Ashton's shirt I swore I'd wash and return. I had to hide the blush on my face as I weaved through the rows of seats before finally arriving at my unassigned chair.

His cologne faintly stuck to the fabric as it consumed my smaller frame, practically drowning me in its distressed material, but it was a damn comfy choice for today.

I curled up in my seat while the professor wrote on the white board, cringing at each echoing squeak from his heavy handed grip on the erasable marker. Literally nails on a chalkboard.

I sigh and continued my aimless note taking, barely comprehending what he was teaching but typing it anyway. I'm not sure how Luke can actually enjoy this class, being another business major.  It's my most boring class of the semester, I don't know how it's always everyone's first choice.

In retrospect, I have been learning a lot of valuable information, but I'm realizing that most of what we're being taught was recycled from the intro class that we took last year as a prerequisite.  Maybe that's why my brain doesn't want to hear it, or why majority of the class sit on their phones behind their computers or subtly sleep in the back of the room; we've learned this shit already.

With an irritated eye roll, I take a sip of my iced coffee and chew on the straw, counting down the minutes until I can go back to my dorm and take a well needed nap. I absently scroll through my phone to kill time, adjusting my laptop to shield my lack of attention to the lecture. Everyone else was doing it, why can't I?

I sift through my notifications from throughout the day, shaking my head at Jess' various costume ideas and Michael's usual random photos. I reply to tell him he has the humor of a middle schooler, but his response is yet another stupid meme.  I'm about to type an irritated response, but my phone buzzes and another notification catches my attention at the top of the screen.

Unknown: Don't you know it's rude to be on your phone during class, sweets?

My eyebrows furrow at the cryptic text and I'm quick to glance behind me, taking in my surroundings of the ordinary class kept to themselves in the middle of the lecture. Nothing was unusual or suspicious, but that didn't matter. I had a feeling of who this could be. The nickname completely gave him away.

Cara: ohhh so you're stalking me now? I thought we were past this

Cara: and how did you get my number?

Unknown: I have my ways, doll

Cara: mr. spontaneous strikes again

My eyes roll as I bite back a grin, tapping the side of my phone until I get another response. I'm sure Michael fessed up and finally gave Ashton my number after his relentlessness. I didn't mind it, it was exciting to know he was thinking about me when I'm not there. My phone buzzes again and I'm quick to read, but grow confused at the response.