"-and I feel like I shouldn't HAVE to say this but please, DO NOT get ANY of your source material from Wikipedia, okay? That is NOT a reliable source. No dot-com's."
The instructor could barely be heard over the sound of students packing up for the day.
"And make sure your sources are cited CORRECTLY, alright? Have a good weekend guys, see ya' Monday."
Cameron was already halfway out of the door by then. He'd learned his lesson after last time; he wasn't going to be late again. Just as he was rushing past the afternoon class crowd, he heard a familiar voice that made him stop in his tracks, causing someone else to bump into him.
"Oh-sorry," he said, absentmindedly.
He turned and quickly hid just out of site of her. There, sitting with a group of thespians dressed for rehearsal, was Mia, throwing her head back in wild laughter.
"If I gotta clean that costume again, I'm fuckin' you up!" She said, slowly walking away from the group.
"Aw, you promise?" One of them asked. The rest of the group laughed.
"Swear to god, bitch, I ain't playin' witchu!" She shouted back, pointing at the one covered in prosthetic scars.
"I love you, bitch!" They shouted back at her.
"I love you!" She shouted over her shoulder, making her way toward the edge of campus.
Cameron didn't want to run into anyone they knew; if another person asked about him and Mia, he wouldn't know what to say anymore. He made sure to stay out of sight and trailed her out into the sunlight. He was mesmerized by the way she carried herself; headphones hidden in her massive set of loose curls, boxer briefs peaking out of the waistband of her baggy jeans, rhythm decorating her every step.
Up until now, he could never figure out why he shied away from tomboys before: did he want to be WITH them or BE them? He'd always been envious of the level of honesty that energy carried. Why restrict yourself to one or the other when you can embody both with confidence? He realized now what it was that appealed to him: who she was on the outside, he wanted to be within. Suave, unbothered, bold, effortless, unapologetic.
He waited until she reached the parking lot sidewalk before catching up to her, lightly tugging at the afro keychain hanging from her backpack. Mia whipped around to see Cameron, wearing a vintage letterman jacket and a shy smile. Her smile grew wide.
"Hey, Cam!"
"Happy Friday," he said.
"Happy Friday! Yuh!" She replied with excitement, giving him a goofy dap-up. He chuckled.
"Was that your theatre class back there?"
"Yeah," she said, as they continued walking side by side. "Did they scare you?"
"Nah, a lil' freaky lookin' though. One of 'em was covered in a bunch of scars and shit, what's that about?" He asked. She laughed.
"Yeah, we were practicin' makeup for dress rehearsal. I swear to god, if that bitch gets spirit gum on her fuckin' costume one more time, I'm just gon' burn it off. That shit is IMPOSSIBLE to remove."
She took off her headphones and stuffed them into her bag, trading them for a pre-roll and a lighter.
"How was English?" She asked.
"Eh. I feel like I'm just waitin' for everybody else to catch up. I might have to go back to admin 'n see if I can fast-track some of these classes. They won't even let me take creative writing 'til I finish the required shit. Fuckin' bogus."
"College is a fuckin' scam, dude," she chuckled.
"We don't gotta come back here 'til Monday anyway, wanna come over?" She asked, holding the blunt between her lips.
"Sure." He replied.
"Shoes off, bags down, you know the drill." Mia said, as she threw her keys into their holder.
Cameron closed the door behind him and took off his shoes. This had become his new favorite place. Last time he was here, they were blasting music in the living room, dancing barefoot on the hardwood floor, and singing off key from the top of their lungs. There was a sense of child-like freedom here that he'd never felt anywhere else. No matter where he was or what he was doing, his mind always found its way back here, with her.
He walked into her bedroom just as she finished opening the curtains, allowing the sunlight to bathe her ebony skin. She then opened the window and took a seat on the futon, blowing smoke through the screen.
"Cam?" She asked.
"Wassup?" He replied, removing his jacket as he sat down next to her.
"When did you know?"
"Know what?" He asked, a bit confused.
"Well, it wasn't 'love at first sight,' was it? I mean, there had to be a moment where it just hit you and you were like, 'ahh, fuck.'" She laughed. He chuckled.
"Hm," he thought for a moment as he reached for the blunt in her hand.
He took a long drag and blew the smoke out of the window before he answered.
"Toward the end of last semester," he finally spoke.
"Really?" She asked, a bit puzzled, "I thought you were still gettin' over the breakup 'n everything, what happened?"
Cameron stood in front of the class, his heartbeat ringing in his ears as a silent classroom waited for him to speak. He'd memorized his assigned monologue in full, and yet there he stood, one line in, trying and failing to overcome his stage fright. After only 30 seconds of silence, his panic overtook him, and he rushed to his seat. As the instructor called for the next performance, he hung his head in shame at his desk, cursing his nerves for betraying him after weeks of preparation.
As he attempted to hide his failure underneath the hood of his jacket, he felt a warm, gentle hand on his back, softly rubbing back and forth across his shoulders. He peaked from underneath his hoodie to see Mia, who flashed him a quick, sympathetic grin, before returning her attention to the front of the class. Misty-eyed, he lowered his head again, wondering what he'd ever done to deserve such kindness.
