Alex Faulkner (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
videokilledme) wrote2017-12-08 08:34 pm
videokilledme) wrote2017-12-08 08:34 pm
“And The Rest Is (World) History.” Alex, Bianca. (Persona Dreamscape) - Chapter Two
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"And The Rest Is (World) History." Alex, Bianca. (Persona Dreamscape) - Chapter Two
[music]
Bianca didn’t waste any time texting him. He’d hardly escaped the classroom, was only halfway to his next class, when he felt his phone vibrate in his jacket pocket. Alex hadn’t even had to look at the screen to know who it was; he didn’t have that many contacts in the first place, and none of them (except maybe his mother) would have sent him a message at this time. Sure enough, the message was from an “unknown number,” but its contents removed all doubt as to who the sender was.
Hi, it’s Bianca! Your History 1001 (not 101) partner! C:
As if he didn’t remember who she was. They’d been assigned their “group” less than an hour ago. Did she think he had the memory of a goldfish, or what? He didn’t text back, which was just as well, because she texted him again seconds later.
So we didn't actually set up a meeting time
We’ll have to compare schedules to figure out smthng more permanent BUT!
Can you meet at the library this evening? I have a few free hours today
Alex suddenly realized that he’d stopped walking, that he was standing in the middle of the sidewalk with people moving around him, like a river breaking around a rock. He scowled down at the glowing screen, sorely tempted to delete all the texts and pretend she’d gotten his number wrong when she asked him about it next class, but he resisted the temptation. Dr. Pace, a man who did not seem to suffer fools willingly, had specifically assigned Bianca to be his partner; he should at least give her a chance instead of just dismissing her outright.
So, bracing himself, Alex started walking again as he texted her back.
I get out of my last class at 5:00. I can meet you at the library then.
He was sliding into his seat in his Journalism class (an obvious requirement for a Communications Major like himself) three minutes later when his phone buzzed again. It was a much smaller class than a Gen Ed like World History 1001, and even though he had a seat near the back, Alex had to be more careful about looking down at his phone if he didn’t want to get caught.
Works for me! See you then! C:
All right, then. 5:00 it was. Alex set his phone to silent on the off chance she messaged him again, though he didn’t know why she would, unless she had to cancel for some reason. Still, most people felt the need to text (or talk) more than was really necessary, and he didn’t know Bianca well enough to know whether or not she was one of the few who didn’t. Better safe than sorry.
After his Journalism class, which promised to be interesting (in a good way), Alex had a short break that he decided to use to grab some food from the cafeteria, and after that it was on to General Psychology 1101, his last MWF class (which was also interesting in a good way).
As he made his way to the Carrington University Library, Alex’s mind was still largely focused on an article from Psychology Today that the professor had referenced, a piece about dreams and their true meanings. The library was a pretty huge building, four stories tall plus a basement, and its full name was the “Celia Green Reference and Media Center,” but no one really called it that, at least going by what Alex had heard so far. It was either just “the library” or else “the Green Room”. Alex was a little early, so he decided to explore a bit before his scheduled meet-up--he’d heard that there was a pretty excellent S.T.E.A.M. lab here that included a sizeable green screen and a small recording studio. Since he knew from seeing advertisements around the campus that the college also had a radio station, Alex wasn’t certain why they’d need another recording studio at the library. But it was a fairly large campus; maybe there had been enough student demand for it.
The smell of fresh coffee was the first thing that Alex noticed when he entered the library, and for good reason. There was a large cafe area taking up what looked like a considerable portion of the first floor, offering a wide variety of sandwiches, snacks, and coffee. That was pretty nice--it made things a lot easier for students who pulled long study sessions in the library, which might very well turn out to be something in his future, Alex thought, breathing out a low, irritated sigh as he continued his exploration.
The S.T.E.A.M. lab rooms were in the basement (of course), but the whole sub-ground floor proved to be well-lit, brightly painted, and fairly busy. Enough so that it didn’t feel like a dungeon at all, which was a pleasant surprise. The majority of the rooms he walked past and glanced into were occupied, and Alex could hear some pretty rough singing coming from the direction of what he assumed must be the recording studio; then the watch on his wrist gave a quiet beep, warning him that it was five minutes until 5:00. Despite his lingering curiosity, he nodded at the fellow student manning the basement sign-in/information desk, then beat a hasty retreat back up the stairs, looking for the study rooms.
The study rooms were on the third floor, it turned out, but Bianca wasn’t in any of them. Instead, Alex found as he wandered back from checking them all, she was waiting for him on the stairwell.
“Hey!” she chirped, giving a smile and a cheerful wave, neither of which Alex returned. “Sorry for making you look for me, we must’ve just missed each other.”
Since she was clearly expecting some sort of response, he gave a half-hearted one-shouldered shrug. “No big deal,” he muttered, ducking his head and staring at the carpet sullenly, already wondering how long this was going to take, how much time they would have to spend together, and how soon he could bolt. When he looked back up, he found Bianca biting her lip in a vain effort to hold back a smile. “...What?” he asked, suspicious and, despite himself, curious.
Bianca gave a thoughtful hum, that troublemaking twinkle in her eyes enough to put Alex on guard even more. “You don’t look any happier about this now than you did before, so I guess I need to win you over. C’mon!”
Before he knew it, Bianca had linked her arm with his and was hauling him along. Even in his heeled boots, she was still at least an inch taller than he was, and her lean, slim figure possessed a surprising amount of strength--or maybe not so surprising, considering she was obviously an athlete. Then again, Alex himself wasn’t particularly strong, so perhaps he was a poor basis of comparison. He didn’t resist (not that he really could have anyway) as the blonde towed him along, tugging him down the stairs to the second floor, pulling him deep into the maze of tall bookcases, then out into another part of the library that was even quieter than the study area they’d just left.
They passed a few clusters of low, comfy-looking chairs huddled close around equally-low coffee tables, most of them unoccupied; then they came around the end of another long bookcase, went around a corner, and Alex found himself looking at the perfect study nook.
It was a single table with just two chairs, but enough space for a third, pushed right up into a recessed window that looked out over the campus lake. The lake was actually a lot livelier than Alex expected: there were clusters of waterlilies and other aquatic plants that he didn’t know the names of, though the water looked mostly clean, not scummy or overgrown with algae. A grove of weeping willows edged along one side of the lake, and a few of the brightly-colored koi fish that populated the pond were visible even from the second floor window. A flock of ducks bobbed and paddled about on the far side of the lake, a heron of some sort stalked through the long rushes on the near shore, on the prowl for frogs, but the birds and the fish were the only living creatures visible at the moment. While it had once been central to the campus, Carrington University had grown a fair amount over the years since its founding; now, the lake was out-of-the-way enough that students didn’t spend a lot of time there, or on the single remaining path that ran past it.
Fittingly, there weren’t any other tables or groups of chairs in sight of this one, and as Alex turned a considering glance back the way they’d come, he determined that it was probably out of easy earshot of all the other seating areas, too. Unless they were really loud, no one would be able to hear them, or would even know they were there.
“So?” Bianca queried, the satisfaction in her smile making it clear that she knew exactly how great a spot this was, she just wanted to hear him admit it, too.
It’s...almost like a secret base or something, Alex thought, and only just resisted the urge to say aloud. It would’ve been a childish comment, and he was self-conscious enough around Bianca already. He didn’t need to say anything that would make him feel stupid.
“Not bad,” he admitted, finally tugging his arm out of her grasp and taking a step away to put some much-needed space between them. “It should be quiet, at least.”
At that, the blonde beamed as widely as if he’d been full of gushing praise for the spot--which, for Alex, he actually had been, though there was no way Bianca could know that. For a moment, Alex could only stare at her, speechless in the face of her relentless cheerfulness as she slung her backpack off her shoulder and onto the table and then took a seat, looking back and patting the tabletop of the spot next to her teasingly.
That was enough to unfreeze him, and he inwardly kicked himself for allowing it to happen in the first place. Get it together, Faulkner! You’ve talked to pretty girls before, you worked as a sound tech with two of them back in high school! This isn’t any different. Except that it was, because neither of those girls had possessed even a fraction of whatever ineffable element of charisma Bianca had that caused his eyes to find and follow her unbidden.
...Like they were starting to do again and ohgodno he had to sit down already and stop staring like some sort of socially-clueless creep.
“...Okay then,” Alex sighed as he settled into the seat to the right of Bianca, surreptitiously (he hoped) pulling the chair a little farther away before he did so. “Let’s just...get this over with, I guess...”
Bianca stopped flipping through her textbook, resting her arms on the table and leaning sideways towards him, effectively nullifying his attempt to create some space and studying his face with a level of scrutiny that Alex found mildly uncomfortable. It was an intense look, like she was trying to figure out the way he worked...and Alex realized that he knew that expression, because he wore it himself a fair amount of the time. It was intense, but it was also Kind Of A Problem, because it caused him to notice yet again the striking, genuinely lovely sea green colour of her eyes, which was not something Alex wanted to think about, or had any reason to want to think about, thankyouverymuch.
“...You know, Dr. Pace was right,” Bianca said after she’d subjected him to several long, fidget-inducing moments of that penetrating stare. “You really don’t seem happy about this ‘partner’ thing at all. Why’s that?”
Alex gave a low snort, digging into his bag as an excuse to look away from her as he answered, “Yeah, well...in my experience, ‘group project’ is really just another way of saying, ‘Alex, go do all the work yourself because everyone else will either do it wrong, or just won’t show up’.”
“Ugh, right? Or if they DO show up, they don’t really participate!” Bianca agreed, to Alex’s lasting surprise, with sudden vehemence, “Or even worse, they just distract everyone else from getting any work done!”
“Guess I shouldn’t show you the five hundred cute cat videos I’d planned on sharing, then,” Alex found himself deadpanning without the slightest break in his usual closed expression. He hadn’t really meant to make a joke--it had just been a knee-jerk reaction, the words leaving his mouth before he’d had a chance to think about them. He bit the inside of his cheek, irritated with himself for that slip-up...at least until Bianca gave him another of those wide, genuine smiles.
“Hey now, don’t get too crazy,” she said, her tone equally deadpan despite that smile. “There will always be time for cat videos. Maybe not all five hundred of them, but…”
“Right, sorry. I’ll try to limit myself to three hundred next time.”
“Make it four hundred, and you’ve got a deal.” Dropping her pencil, she held out a hand towards him. “Shake on it?”
The last thing Alex wanted to do was hold Bianca’s hand--actually, the last thing he wanted to do was make it look like he wanted to hold her hand--but he didn’t let himself hesitate or waver before firmly clasping her hand and giving it a single, purposeful shake. Her grasp in return was steady, her hand as lean and strong as the rest of her, though her skin was still somehow almost surprisingly soft.
Neither of them held on for any longer than necessary, or attempted to turn it into a hand-crushing match, though Alex was still shaking his head at himself. They were wasting time over a fake agreement...and yet, he wasn’t really annoyed about it. It didn’t make sense. Still, it was time for them to focus, to figure out when they could meet for study and work sessions, and how often that would have to be. But first of all, he had to ask-
“So? What do you play?” Bianca blinked at him, though whether she was surprised that he knew she was an athlete, or that he was asking a more personal question at all, Alex didn’t know. Either way, it didn’t stop him from adding, “You’re clearly some kind of athlete, and I’d guess you play for the college team of whatever sport it is, seeing as Dr. Pace said you were as busy as I am.”
Bianca favored him with a different sort of smile this time, one that was more crooked and considering. “Volleyball,” she stated, “and I know, I know, that’s such a surprise because I’m not super-tall, but there’s a reason for that. I’m the libero...and a damn good one, too, if I do say so myself.”
“Are you here on a scholarship?” Alex asked, curious in spite of himself, and Bianca nodded.
“Yup, full ride. So that’s why I’m busy, because of all those practices and games. What about you?”
“Working part-time. I guess technically I don’t have to, since it’s not like I need to help support my family or anything, but…” But he wanted to, at least so long as he wasn’t flipping burgers or babysitting, neither of which was exactly his speed. Late last week he’d had an interview at a music equipment rental store not far from his house, and he was just waiting to hear back; it was mostly secretarial work, a little basic maintenance, but they’d also promised him some DJ gigs, if it was needed and there wasn’t a conflict with his classes.
After some schedule and possible-schedule comparing, they worked out that the best time for both of them to meet was Sundays at 6:00 p.m.--Bianca didn’t really have any other days off, especially since fall was volleyball season. “They’re a little more relaxed here during the spring semester, D1 school or not,” she said with a shrug as Alex inwardly goggled a bit over how packed her schedule was. “Not...that it helps us with scheduling our study sessions, of course...”
“It’s fine,” Alex said, though there was a note of this is what I expected in his tone.
Judging by her slight frown, Bianca picked right up on that, too. “We can try to meet Wednesday or Thursday nights also, but-”
“Don’t worry about it,” Alex interjected, already done with that part of their conversation. He suspected that he’d still be left doing most of the work, but after seeing just how insane her schedule was, it was hard to hold that against her. (Most days were: 6 a.m. conditioning/light practice, breakfast with the team, classes, two hours of afternoon practice/open gym, dinner with the team, then studying.)
Maybe this is what Dr. Pace was really trying to teach me, Alex thought, pausing to re-examine the situation as he looked down at his own comparatively empty calendar app. That no matter how busy we think we are, or how little time we think we have for other people...there are some people who have even less, and yet are willing to try anyway… He sneaked a sideways glance at the other sophomore, who was doodling something vaguely mechanical-looking in the margin of her notes, and gave an inward snort. Or maybe I’m just seriously overthinking this.
“To be honest,” Bianca said, pulling Alex back out of his thoughts and into the present, “I don’t really understand the need for these groups either. It’s not like this is hard,” she said with a faint sigh, fanning through the pages of her textbook distractedly with her other, non-doodling hand. “You read the stuff, take notes in class, remember the dates and names and general concepts, and...you’re good.”
“The hard part for me is making myself care,” Alex admitted, watching those fanning pages with absent interest. “Ancient history doesn’t always seem that relevant, so it’s not exactly my favourite subject.”
Bianca give a low snicker at that. “Don’t let Uncle Mal hear you say that, he’ll-” she began, then suddenly clapped a hand over her mouth, eyes going wide with dismay even as Alex zeroed in on her slip-up.
“...‘Uncle Mal’? As in, Malcolm Pace? What’s that about?”
Bianca flashed an oops, silly me smile and drew a hurried breath, doubtless to give some sort of poorly-constructed excuse--then stopped without giving it when confronted by Alex’s profoundly skeptical expression. Just try to lie to me, he said without saying, the words clearly evident in the firm set of his mouth and the quirk of one pierced eyebrow. Lie to me now, and I’ll doubt anything you ever tell me from here on out.
The blonde released that hastily-drawn breath, sagging in her chair a little and looking thoroughly caught out, like a child seconds away from taking a big bite from an expressly forbidden cookie. “All right, all right, I’ll tell you,” she muttered, still looking like she wished there was a way around it, though Alex’s expression made it clear there wasn’t. “But you have to promise not to tell anyone else, or he and I could both get in trouble over it.”
Alex give a minute nod. “Sure, I promise.” After all, what good would it do him to get either Bianca or Dr. Pace in trouble? He had no reason to tell anyone anything--and no one to tell, anyway, steadfast loner that he was.
Bianca had narrowed her eyes at him again, briefly fixing him with the same piercing stare as before, but she brightened at his agreement. “Okay then. Dr. Pace is my mother’s half-brother.”
Alex blinked a few times rapidly as he thought that one over. “Which makes him...what, your half-uncle?”
“Not right now. Right now he’s my college professor.”
Alex couldn’t hold back an unexpected bark of laughter--her response had been so quick, so witty and sassy and on-point that he couldn’t help it. He couldn’t keep the crooked grin off his face either, any more than he could keep himself from warming to her just slightly, in spite of himself.
“Right, of course,” he chuckled, still smiling as he gave a slow, contemplative nod. “I thought it was a little strange that he’d single you out like that and make you partner up with me. Makes a lot more sense now.”
Bianca was looking at him attentively again, though it was a warmer, softer kind of gaze, with just a hint of something like fascination. “...You know, I think this is the first time I’ve ever seen you smile,” she mused, propping an elbow on the table and resting her cheek on her hand.
Alex felt himself flustering, said smile vanishing as quickly as it had come, replaced by a frown and a faint flush. “You’ve only known me for half a day,” he muttered, the words coming out hard and defensive as he looked down, away, anywhere but at the other college student sitting beside him.
Bianca didn’t seem at all affected by his tone or his reaction though, much less put off by it; she just kept looking at him like that, with a small, almost mysterious smile of her own. “You really should smile more. It looks good on you.”
There it was again, that lightly-spoken, too-casual-to-be-serious almost-flirtation. Once again, Alex had no idea how to react, how to process it, much less how to respond. And so once again, he simply set it to the side and ignored it, though his pale skin did precious little to hide the painful redness of his cheeks, freckles or not. “...So anyway, about your uncle…” he said stiffly, then amended his comment with a hasty, “Er, half-uncle...”
Bianca waved a hand dismissively. “Just go with ‘uncle,’ it sounds a lot less weird.”
That was true, it did raise fewer questions, and Alex didn’t particularly care one way or the other. “Okay, sure, whatever. Is your uncle the reason you came here, to Carrington?”
“Mm...it’s kinda the other way around, really,” Bianca mused, tapping the eraser end of her pencil against her chin. “There were a few places that offered me volleyball scholarships, but Carrington has a really good mechanical engineering program, so I picked this place even though it’s pretty far from home. Uncle Mal lived on Long Island, so he kinda volunteered to follow me here, to keep an eye on me. He still goes home for vacations and during the summer, but he seems to really like it here, so I think he’ll probably stay on even after I graduate.”
“...So...why did he feel a need to keep an eye on you?” He’d heard of overprotective or ‘helicopter’ parents, but this seemed to be taking that a little far. “Most kids go away to college just fine, even if it is pretty far away from...where are you from?”
“San Fran area, so yeah, like I said, pretty far. And it’s...kind of complicated, really...” Bianca fidgeted with her pencil, picking at the eraser and suddenly avoiding Alex’s eyes. “My family’s a huge mess, I don’t even want to get into all that--you seriously wouldn’t believe it. I mean, my mom and dad are both great, and I love my brothers and sister! Mom just...has a lot of half-siblings...”
“Define ‘a lot’.”
“Um...‘more than ten’?”
“...That...is a lot, yeah.”
“You’re telling me. Just imagine what the holidays are like...”
Alex, who had exactly one aunt and three cousins total as far as extended family went and still thought that they were rather too much at times, had more than a little trouble wrapping his head around that. “My mom’s an only child,” he found himself saying, but for once he didn’t feel like he was saying too much. “My dad has one sister, and she has three kids. Other than grandparents, that’s about it. Well, my mom remarried, so I do have two half-siblings and a step-dad, and I guess a step-aunt and step-uncle, maybe some step-cousins, if that’s...even a thing. But other than that…”
“Still sounds a lot less complicated than my crazy family.”
“Definitely. Especially since my mom and dad don’t really talk much anymore.” Those words were out before Alex could stop them, but Bianca had been open about her own unusual family situation, so he only hesitated for a fraction of a second before adding a little flatly, “...Holidays are...not a group event. I usually have to spend them with one side or the other.”
“ ‘One side,’ ” Bianca repeated, leaning her chin on one of her hands again. “That makes it sound like a war or something.”
“It’s not really that far from the truth,” Alex murmured, and now it was his turn to avoid eye contact. Why was he even telling her all of this? They’d known each other for less than a day, and she’d already managed to get more information out of him than anyone at his last college or his graduating high school class had gotten in a whole year, and not for lack of trying. It wasn’t like she could really care, after all. She was probably just being nice because Dr. Pace had told her to be, pretending to be interested in him and his life and making pointless small talk, and he should really stop letting it happen. Keeping a healthy amount of distance between himself and everyone else had worked out for the best so far-
His racing thoughts stuttered to a halt as he felt a hand suddenly come to rest on his shoulder. Startled, he shot a wide-eyed sideways look at Bianca, who was giving him a half-smile with just the barest tinge of knowing cynicism to it.
“Believe it or not, I can kinda understand where you’re coming from.” Her half-smile shifted into a full one and went sunny-day-warm as she gave his shoulder a comforting squeeze. “There’s a sort of divide in my family, too, and they still don’t always get along...”
For a moment, Alex just stared at her, too taken aback to keep his usual impassive mask in place, shaken by the level of sincere empathy, not pity, he felt radiating from the other teen. And for just a moment, he looked...open, almost vulnerable, and even younger than usual.
No. This is stupid. Put a stop to this. You’re wasting time, and you don’t need friends. You’ll only get hurt.
“...I don’t think this is the kind of history we’re supposed to be talking about,” he managed, turning his head away again and delicately shrugging off her hand.
But as seemed to be usual for Bianca, she didn’t get huffy or take offense, her focus on trying to lighten the mood rather than calling attention to his sudden emotional withdrawal, easily moving past it and maybe even excusing it.
“Heh, yeah, that did start to get a little heavy, didn’t it? Especially for our second conversation, like...ever.” With a self-deprecating little laugh, Bianca abruptly pushed up from the table onto her feet. “Okay! To make it up to you, I’m gonna go get us some coffee...er, if you...like coffee...?”
It was the most uncertain and off-balance that he’d seen her so far, and Alex couldn’t stop his mouth from curving in the faintest of smiles as he looked up at her almost anxious expression. “Are you joking? It is the sweet nectar of life itself.”
Something like a vague shade of relief passed over the blonde’s face; her usual confident bearing slid back into place, and she was herself again. “Now you’re talkin’! What do you want?”
“Well, if the coffee here is actually any good, just get me some of that. Black, as strong as they can make it.”
“Are you sure? I mean, it’s usually pretty good, but-”
“Trust me, the coffee my dad makes can take the paint off a car, and I drink that just about every morning. They can’t make it too strong for me.”
“All right then,” Bianca said with a laugh before heading back the way they’d come. “If you’re sure.”
Alex spent the fifteen minutes or so that she was gone writing out two different plans for how they could divide the work, both to keep himself busy and to keep himself from thinking about other things. Like their previous conversation. Or how unexpectedly interesting and intelligent Bianca had turned out to be. Or how she really was beautiful, enough so that it was almost as if a physical shock ran through him every time she met his eyes. Or how part of him still dearly wanted to bolt, and send some bullshit apology text about how something important had come up and he’d had to leave. All thoroughly undesirable trains of thought, to be avoided at all costs. Thus, his deep, intense focus on the possible plans.
He was just beginning to outline a third option, which blended the other two, when Bianca came back, her return heralded by an increased potency in the scent of coffee. Alex accepted his cup with a terse “Thanks,” immediately tested it for heat and taste, and found it nearly cool enough to drink and surprisingly not bad. “Here’s what I came up with as a possible outline for the project,” he said, pushing his notebook towards the other sophomore, “and also a couple ways we could split the labor.”
Bianca looked up from dumping two mini-creamers and a packet of sugar into her own coffee, stirring it and then giving it a trial sip as she looked over what he’d come up with. “Dang, your handwriting’s small,” was her first comment, followed by a longer drink of coffee and then, “really neat, though, especially for a guy.” Alex waited with thinly veiled impatience for her to say something that was actually relevant to their project, and scalded his tongue by taking a too-large and too-quick drink of his own coffee just to have something to do in the meantime. “Hmm, I think I like the second set-up best, but it looks like you were working on combining the two, and that would be fine with me also. Just be sure that if you do go with that one that you still give me my fair share of stuff to do, okay?”
Alex smirked down at the tabletop, resisting the urge to take another too-soon swallow of coffee. “Don’t want me telling Uncle Mal that you didn’t pull your weight?”
Bianca pulled a face at him over the rim of her coffee cup. “I don’t wanna give you the satisfaction, it’s true, but...I also just wanna do my part. We’re kind of a team now, whether you like it or not, so we might as well get along and have some fun in the process. Right?”
He’d been having trouble looking at her again, but that team comment and the honest, hopeful ring in that last single-word question caught him off-guard enough that, once again, he couldn’t help looking over at her. Her expression was every bit as earnest and optimistic, and Alex found that he didn’t have the heart to deny any of it this time.
“Sure,” he said, looking away and pulling his notebook back to continue working on that third plan. “If you say so.”
With Bianca’s help, it didn’t take long to come up with a working plan, and Alex was gratified to find that she was insistent on keeping the workload fairly balanced--both for her and for him; she wasn’t about to let him get away with not doing his share, either.
Once that was settled, they fell to working on their homework, first for World History, then their other classes, even though they didn’t have any more overlaps in their schedules. Time passed as they chatted about all sorts of random things--none of it anything too deep or serious again, though--and Alex surprised himself with his own willingness to engage in, at times even carry, the conversation. He was commenting on a new movie they’d both seen and only half-liked, also absently working ahead on something for his journalism class, when his phone gave a low buzz to indicate an incoming text; looking down at it, he noticed the time and gave a slight start, surprised to find that they’d been there for nearly three and a half hours.
He hadn’t known that there was anyone in the world who he didn’t mind spending that much time with in one go, much less someone he could talk to for that length of time.
Bianca also seemed surprised by how long they’d been there. When he mentioned the time, her sea green eyes went wide with alarm before she hurriedly started gathering her things, babbling something about a team meeting and watching some films from a school they were playing that weekend before dashing off, chirping a cheerful, “See you in class!” back over her shoulder as she vanished into the bookshelves.
Alex managed to not watch her go this time, keeping his attention on packing up his own things, and away from the odd flicker of emotion her words had sent through him: something quick and darting and yet not unpleasant that he had no name for other than, perhaps, anticipation.
Riiiight. I’m looking forward to a gen ed history class. That makes perfect sense. He gave a low snort as he slung his bag across his chest, pushed in their chairs, and scooped up his long-empty coffee cup. That’ll be the day.
...And yet, for whatever reason, he couldn’t entirely deny the fact that the idea of Wednesday’s class didn’t seem quite as annoying as it had before, though he couldn’t seem to work out any real, plausible cause for that shift, however slight.
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"And The Rest Is (World) History." Alex, Bianca. (Persona Dreamscape) - Chapter Two
[music]
Bianca didn’t waste any time texting him. He’d hardly escaped the classroom, was only halfway to his next class, when he felt his phone vibrate in his jacket pocket. Alex hadn’t even had to look at the screen to know who it was; he didn’t have that many contacts in the first place, and none of them (except maybe his mother) would have sent him a message at this time. Sure enough, the message was from an “unknown number,” but its contents removed all doubt as to who the sender was.
Hi, it’s Bianca! Your History 1001 (not 101) partner! C:
As if he didn’t remember who she was. They’d been assigned their “group” less than an hour ago. Did she think he had the memory of a goldfish, or what? He didn’t text back, which was just as well, because she texted him again seconds later.
So we didn't actually set up a meeting time
We’ll have to compare schedules to figure out smthng more permanent BUT!
Can you meet at the library this evening? I have a few free hours today
Alex suddenly realized that he’d stopped walking, that he was standing in the middle of the sidewalk with people moving around him, like a river breaking around a rock. He scowled down at the glowing screen, sorely tempted to delete all the texts and pretend she’d gotten his number wrong when she asked him about it next class, but he resisted the temptation. Dr. Pace, a man who did not seem to suffer fools willingly, had specifically assigned Bianca to be his partner; he should at least give her a chance instead of just dismissing her outright.
So, bracing himself, Alex started walking again as he texted her back.
I get out of my last class at 5:00. I can meet you at the library then.
He was sliding into his seat in his Journalism class (an obvious requirement for a Communications Major like himself) three minutes later when his phone buzzed again. It was a much smaller class than a Gen Ed like World History 1001, and even though he had a seat near the back, Alex had to be more careful about looking down at his phone if he didn’t want to get caught.
Works for me! See you then! C:
All right, then. 5:00 it was. Alex set his phone to silent on the off chance she messaged him again, though he didn’t know why she would, unless she had to cancel for some reason. Still, most people felt the need to text (or talk) more than was really necessary, and he didn’t know Bianca well enough to know whether or not she was one of the few who didn’t. Better safe than sorry.
After his Journalism class, which promised to be interesting (in a good way), Alex had a short break that he decided to use to grab some food from the cafeteria, and after that it was on to General Psychology 1101, his last MWF class (which was also interesting in a good way).
As he made his way to the Carrington University Library, Alex’s mind was still largely focused on an article from Psychology Today that the professor had referenced, a piece about dreams and their true meanings. The library was a pretty huge building, four stories tall plus a basement, and its full name was the “Celia Green Reference and Media Center,” but no one really called it that, at least going by what Alex had heard so far. It was either just “the library” or else “the Green Room”. Alex was a little early, so he decided to explore a bit before his scheduled meet-up--he’d heard that there was a pretty excellent S.T.E.A.M. lab here that included a sizeable green screen and a small recording studio. Since he knew from seeing advertisements around the campus that the college also had a radio station, Alex wasn’t certain why they’d need another recording studio at the library. But it was a fairly large campus; maybe there had been enough student demand for it.
The smell of fresh coffee was the first thing that Alex noticed when he entered the library, and for good reason. There was a large cafe area taking up what looked like a considerable portion of the first floor, offering a wide variety of sandwiches, snacks, and coffee. That was pretty nice--it made things a lot easier for students who pulled long study sessions in the library, which might very well turn out to be something in his future, Alex thought, breathing out a low, irritated sigh as he continued his exploration.
The S.T.E.A.M. lab rooms were in the basement (of course), but the whole sub-ground floor proved to be well-lit, brightly painted, and fairly busy. Enough so that it didn’t feel like a dungeon at all, which was a pleasant surprise. The majority of the rooms he walked past and glanced into were occupied, and Alex could hear some pretty rough singing coming from the direction of what he assumed must be the recording studio; then the watch on his wrist gave a quiet beep, warning him that it was five minutes until 5:00. Despite his lingering curiosity, he nodded at the fellow student manning the basement sign-in/information desk, then beat a hasty retreat back up the stairs, looking for the study rooms.
The study rooms were on the third floor, it turned out, but Bianca wasn’t in any of them. Instead, Alex found as he wandered back from checking them all, she was waiting for him on the stairwell.
“Hey!” she chirped, giving a smile and a cheerful wave, neither of which Alex returned. “Sorry for making you look for me, we must’ve just missed each other.”
Since she was clearly expecting some sort of response, he gave a half-hearted one-shouldered shrug. “No big deal,” he muttered, ducking his head and staring at the carpet sullenly, already wondering how long this was going to take, how much time they would have to spend together, and how soon he could bolt. When he looked back up, he found Bianca biting her lip in a vain effort to hold back a smile. “...What?” he asked, suspicious and, despite himself, curious.
Bianca gave a thoughtful hum, that troublemaking twinkle in her eyes enough to put Alex on guard even more. “You don’t look any happier about this now than you did before, so I guess I need to win you over. C’mon!”
Before he knew it, Bianca had linked her arm with his and was hauling him along. Even in his heeled boots, she was still at least an inch taller than he was, and her lean, slim figure possessed a surprising amount of strength--or maybe not so surprising, considering she was obviously an athlete. Then again, Alex himself wasn’t particularly strong, so perhaps he was a poor basis of comparison. He didn’t resist (not that he really could have anyway) as the blonde towed him along, tugging him down the stairs to the second floor, pulling him deep into the maze of tall bookcases, then out into another part of the library that was even quieter than the study area they’d just left.
They passed a few clusters of low, comfy-looking chairs huddled close around equally-low coffee tables, most of them unoccupied; then they came around the end of another long bookcase, went around a corner, and Alex found himself looking at the perfect study nook.
It was a single table with just two chairs, but enough space for a third, pushed right up into a recessed window that looked out over the campus lake. The lake was actually a lot livelier than Alex expected: there were clusters of waterlilies and other aquatic plants that he didn’t know the names of, though the water looked mostly clean, not scummy or overgrown with algae. A grove of weeping willows edged along one side of the lake, and a few of the brightly-colored koi fish that populated the pond were visible even from the second floor window. A flock of ducks bobbed and paddled about on the far side of the lake, a heron of some sort stalked through the long rushes on the near shore, on the prowl for frogs, but the birds and the fish were the only living creatures visible at the moment. While it had once been central to the campus, Carrington University had grown a fair amount over the years since its founding; now, the lake was out-of-the-way enough that students didn’t spend a lot of time there, or on the single remaining path that ran past it.
Fittingly, there weren’t any other tables or groups of chairs in sight of this one, and as Alex turned a considering glance back the way they’d come, he determined that it was probably out of easy earshot of all the other seating areas, too. Unless they were really loud, no one would be able to hear them, or would even know they were there.
“So?” Bianca queried, the satisfaction in her smile making it clear that she knew exactly how great a spot this was, she just wanted to hear him admit it, too.
It’s...almost like a secret base or something, Alex thought, and only just resisted the urge to say aloud. It would’ve been a childish comment, and he was self-conscious enough around Bianca already. He didn’t need to say anything that would make him feel stupid.
“Not bad,” he admitted, finally tugging his arm out of her grasp and taking a step away to put some much-needed space between them. “It should be quiet, at least.”
At that, the blonde beamed as widely as if he’d been full of gushing praise for the spot--which, for Alex, he actually had been, though there was no way Bianca could know that. For a moment, Alex could only stare at her, speechless in the face of her relentless cheerfulness as she slung her backpack off her shoulder and onto the table and then took a seat, looking back and patting the tabletop of the spot next to her teasingly.
That was enough to unfreeze him, and he inwardly kicked himself for allowing it to happen in the first place. Get it together, Faulkner! You’ve talked to pretty girls before, you worked as a sound tech with two of them back in high school! This isn’t any different. Except that it was, because neither of those girls had possessed even a fraction of whatever ineffable element of charisma Bianca had that caused his eyes to find and follow her unbidden.
...Like they were starting to do again and ohgodno he had to sit down already and stop staring like some sort of socially-clueless creep.
“...Okay then,” Alex sighed as he settled into the seat to the right of Bianca, surreptitiously (he hoped) pulling the chair a little farther away before he did so. “Let’s just...get this over with, I guess...”
Bianca stopped flipping through her textbook, resting her arms on the table and leaning sideways towards him, effectively nullifying his attempt to create some space and studying his face with a level of scrutiny that Alex found mildly uncomfortable. It was an intense look, like she was trying to figure out the way he worked...and Alex realized that he knew that expression, because he wore it himself a fair amount of the time. It was intense, but it was also Kind Of A Problem, because it caused him to notice yet again the striking, genuinely lovely sea green colour of her eyes, which was not something Alex wanted to think about, or had any reason to want to think about, thankyouverymuch.
“...You know, Dr. Pace was right,” Bianca said after she’d subjected him to several long, fidget-inducing moments of that penetrating stare. “You really don’t seem happy about this ‘partner’ thing at all. Why’s that?”
Alex gave a low snort, digging into his bag as an excuse to look away from her as he answered, “Yeah, well...in my experience, ‘group project’ is really just another way of saying, ‘Alex, go do all the work yourself because everyone else will either do it wrong, or just won’t show up’.”
“Ugh, right? Or if they DO show up, they don’t really participate!” Bianca agreed, to Alex’s lasting surprise, with sudden vehemence, “Or even worse, they just distract everyone else from getting any work done!”
“Guess I shouldn’t show you the five hundred cute cat videos I’d planned on sharing, then,” Alex found himself deadpanning without the slightest break in his usual closed expression. He hadn’t really meant to make a joke--it had just been a knee-jerk reaction, the words leaving his mouth before he’d had a chance to think about them. He bit the inside of his cheek, irritated with himself for that slip-up...at least until Bianca gave him another of those wide, genuine smiles.
“Hey now, don’t get too crazy,” she said, her tone equally deadpan despite that smile. “There will always be time for cat videos. Maybe not all five hundred of them, but…”
“Right, sorry. I’ll try to limit myself to three hundred next time.”
“Make it four hundred, and you’ve got a deal.” Dropping her pencil, she held out a hand towards him. “Shake on it?”
The last thing Alex wanted to do was hold Bianca’s hand--actually, the last thing he wanted to do was make it look like he wanted to hold her hand--but he didn’t let himself hesitate or waver before firmly clasping her hand and giving it a single, purposeful shake. Her grasp in return was steady, her hand as lean and strong as the rest of her, though her skin was still somehow almost surprisingly soft.
Neither of them held on for any longer than necessary, or attempted to turn it into a hand-crushing match, though Alex was still shaking his head at himself. They were wasting time over a fake agreement...and yet, he wasn’t really annoyed about it. It didn’t make sense. Still, it was time for them to focus, to figure out when they could meet for study and work sessions, and how often that would have to be. But first of all, he had to ask-
“So? What do you play?” Bianca blinked at him, though whether she was surprised that he knew she was an athlete, or that he was asking a more personal question at all, Alex didn’t know. Either way, it didn’t stop him from adding, “You’re clearly some kind of athlete, and I’d guess you play for the college team of whatever sport it is, seeing as Dr. Pace said you were as busy as I am.”
Bianca favored him with a different sort of smile this time, one that was more crooked and considering. “Volleyball,” she stated, “and I know, I know, that’s such a surprise because I’m not super-tall, but there’s a reason for that. I’m the libero...and a damn good one, too, if I do say so myself.”
“Are you here on a scholarship?” Alex asked, curious in spite of himself, and Bianca nodded.
“Yup, full ride. So that’s why I’m busy, because of all those practices and games. What about you?”
“Working part-time. I guess technically I don’t have to, since it’s not like I need to help support my family or anything, but…” But he wanted to, at least so long as he wasn’t flipping burgers or babysitting, neither of which was exactly his speed. Late last week he’d had an interview at a music equipment rental store not far from his house, and he was just waiting to hear back; it was mostly secretarial work, a little basic maintenance, but they’d also promised him some DJ gigs, if it was needed and there wasn’t a conflict with his classes.
After some schedule and possible-schedule comparing, they worked out that the best time for both of them to meet was Sundays at 6:00 p.m.--Bianca didn’t really have any other days off, especially since fall was volleyball season. “They’re a little more relaxed here during the spring semester, D1 school or not,” she said with a shrug as Alex inwardly goggled a bit over how packed her schedule was. “Not...that it helps us with scheduling our study sessions, of course...”
“It’s fine,” Alex said, though there was a note of this is what I expected in his tone.
Judging by her slight frown, Bianca picked right up on that, too. “We can try to meet Wednesday or Thursday nights also, but-”
“Don’t worry about it,” Alex interjected, already done with that part of their conversation. He suspected that he’d still be left doing most of the work, but after seeing just how insane her schedule was, it was hard to hold that against her. (Most days were: 6 a.m. conditioning/light practice, breakfast with the team, classes, two hours of afternoon practice/open gym, dinner with the team, then studying.)
Maybe this is what Dr. Pace was really trying to teach me, Alex thought, pausing to re-examine the situation as he looked down at his own comparatively empty calendar app. That no matter how busy we think we are, or how little time we think we have for other people...there are some people who have even less, and yet are willing to try anyway… He sneaked a sideways glance at the other sophomore, who was doodling something vaguely mechanical-looking in the margin of her notes, and gave an inward snort. Or maybe I’m just seriously overthinking this.
“To be honest,” Bianca said, pulling Alex back out of his thoughts and into the present, “I don’t really understand the need for these groups either. It’s not like this is hard,” she said with a faint sigh, fanning through the pages of her textbook distractedly with her other, non-doodling hand. “You read the stuff, take notes in class, remember the dates and names and general concepts, and...you’re good.”
“The hard part for me is making myself care,” Alex admitted, watching those fanning pages with absent interest. “Ancient history doesn’t always seem that relevant, so it’s not exactly my favourite subject.”
Bianca give a low snicker at that. “Don’t let Uncle Mal hear you say that, he’ll-” she began, then suddenly clapped a hand over her mouth, eyes going wide with dismay even as Alex zeroed in on her slip-up.
“...‘Uncle Mal’? As in, Malcolm Pace? What’s that about?”
Bianca flashed an oops, silly me smile and drew a hurried breath, doubtless to give some sort of poorly-constructed excuse--then stopped without giving it when confronted by Alex’s profoundly skeptical expression. Just try to lie to me, he said without saying, the words clearly evident in the firm set of his mouth and the quirk of one pierced eyebrow. Lie to me now, and I’ll doubt anything you ever tell me from here on out.
The blonde released that hastily-drawn breath, sagging in her chair a little and looking thoroughly caught out, like a child seconds away from taking a big bite from an expressly forbidden cookie. “All right, all right, I’ll tell you,” she muttered, still looking like she wished there was a way around it, though Alex’s expression made it clear there wasn’t. “But you have to promise not to tell anyone else, or he and I could both get in trouble over it.”
Alex give a minute nod. “Sure, I promise.” After all, what good would it do him to get either Bianca or Dr. Pace in trouble? He had no reason to tell anyone anything--and no one to tell, anyway, steadfast loner that he was.
Bianca had narrowed her eyes at him again, briefly fixing him with the same piercing stare as before, but she brightened at his agreement. “Okay then. Dr. Pace is my mother’s half-brother.”
Alex blinked a few times rapidly as he thought that one over. “Which makes him...what, your half-uncle?”
“Not right now. Right now he’s my college professor.”
Alex couldn’t hold back an unexpected bark of laughter--her response had been so quick, so witty and sassy and on-point that he couldn’t help it. He couldn’t keep the crooked grin off his face either, any more than he could keep himself from warming to her just slightly, in spite of himself.
“Right, of course,” he chuckled, still smiling as he gave a slow, contemplative nod. “I thought it was a little strange that he’d single you out like that and make you partner up with me. Makes a lot more sense now.”
Bianca was looking at him attentively again, though it was a warmer, softer kind of gaze, with just a hint of something like fascination. “...You know, I think this is the first time I’ve ever seen you smile,” she mused, propping an elbow on the table and resting her cheek on her hand.
Alex felt himself flustering, said smile vanishing as quickly as it had come, replaced by a frown and a faint flush. “You’ve only known me for half a day,” he muttered, the words coming out hard and defensive as he looked down, away, anywhere but at the other college student sitting beside him.
Bianca didn’t seem at all affected by his tone or his reaction though, much less put off by it; she just kept looking at him like that, with a small, almost mysterious smile of her own. “You really should smile more. It looks good on you.”
There it was again, that lightly-spoken, too-casual-to-be-serious almost-flirtation. Once again, Alex had no idea how to react, how to process it, much less how to respond. And so once again, he simply set it to the side and ignored it, though his pale skin did precious little to hide the painful redness of his cheeks, freckles or not. “...So anyway, about your uncle…” he said stiffly, then amended his comment with a hasty, “Er, half-uncle...”
Bianca waved a hand dismissively. “Just go with ‘uncle,’ it sounds a lot less weird.”
That was true, it did raise fewer questions, and Alex didn’t particularly care one way or the other. “Okay, sure, whatever. Is your uncle the reason you came here, to Carrington?”
“Mm...it’s kinda the other way around, really,” Bianca mused, tapping the eraser end of her pencil against her chin. “There were a few places that offered me volleyball scholarships, but Carrington has a really good mechanical engineering program, so I picked this place even though it’s pretty far from home. Uncle Mal lived on Long Island, so he kinda volunteered to follow me here, to keep an eye on me. He still goes home for vacations and during the summer, but he seems to really like it here, so I think he’ll probably stay on even after I graduate.”
“...So...why did he feel a need to keep an eye on you?” He’d heard of overprotective or ‘helicopter’ parents, but this seemed to be taking that a little far. “Most kids go away to college just fine, even if it is pretty far away from...where are you from?”
“San Fran area, so yeah, like I said, pretty far. And it’s...kind of complicated, really...” Bianca fidgeted with her pencil, picking at the eraser and suddenly avoiding Alex’s eyes. “My family’s a huge mess, I don’t even want to get into all that--you seriously wouldn’t believe it. I mean, my mom and dad are both great, and I love my brothers and sister! Mom just...has a lot of half-siblings...”
“Define ‘a lot’.”
“Um...‘more than ten’?”
“...That...is a lot, yeah.”
“You’re telling me. Just imagine what the holidays are like...”
Alex, who had exactly one aunt and three cousins total as far as extended family went and still thought that they were rather too much at times, had more than a little trouble wrapping his head around that. “My mom’s an only child,” he found himself saying, but for once he didn’t feel like he was saying too much. “My dad has one sister, and she has three kids. Other than grandparents, that’s about it. Well, my mom remarried, so I do have two half-siblings and a step-dad, and I guess a step-aunt and step-uncle, maybe some step-cousins, if that’s...even a thing. But other than that…”
“Still sounds a lot less complicated than my crazy family.”
“Definitely. Especially since my mom and dad don’t really talk much anymore.” Those words were out before Alex could stop them, but Bianca had been open about her own unusual family situation, so he only hesitated for a fraction of a second before adding a little flatly, “...Holidays are...not a group event. I usually have to spend them with one side or the other.”
“ ‘One side,’ ” Bianca repeated, leaning her chin on one of her hands again. “That makes it sound like a war or something.”
“It’s not really that far from the truth,” Alex murmured, and now it was his turn to avoid eye contact. Why was he even telling her all of this? They’d known each other for less than a day, and she’d already managed to get more information out of him than anyone at his last college or his graduating high school class had gotten in a whole year, and not for lack of trying. It wasn’t like she could really care, after all. She was probably just being nice because Dr. Pace had told her to be, pretending to be interested in him and his life and making pointless small talk, and he should really stop letting it happen. Keeping a healthy amount of distance between himself and everyone else had worked out for the best so far-
His racing thoughts stuttered to a halt as he felt a hand suddenly come to rest on his shoulder. Startled, he shot a wide-eyed sideways look at Bianca, who was giving him a half-smile with just the barest tinge of knowing cynicism to it.
“Believe it or not, I can kinda understand where you’re coming from.” Her half-smile shifted into a full one and went sunny-day-warm as she gave his shoulder a comforting squeeze. “There’s a sort of divide in my family, too, and they still don’t always get along...”
For a moment, Alex just stared at her, too taken aback to keep his usual impassive mask in place, shaken by the level of sincere empathy, not pity, he felt radiating from the other teen. And for just a moment, he looked...open, almost vulnerable, and even younger than usual.
No. This is stupid. Put a stop to this. You’re wasting time, and you don’t need friends. You’ll only get hurt.
“...I don’t think this is the kind of history we’re supposed to be talking about,” he managed, turning his head away again and delicately shrugging off her hand.
But as seemed to be usual for Bianca, she didn’t get huffy or take offense, her focus on trying to lighten the mood rather than calling attention to his sudden emotional withdrawal, easily moving past it and maybe even excusing it.
“Heh, yeah, that did start to get a little heavy, didn’t it? Especially for our second conversation, like...ever.” With a self-deprecating little laugh, Bianca abruptly pushed up from the table onto her feet. “Okay! To make it up to you, I’m gonna go get us some coffee...er, if you...like coffee...?”
It was the most uncertain and off-balance that he’d seen her so far, and Alex couldn’t stop his mouth from curving in the faintest of smiles as he looked up at her almost anxious expression. “Are you joking? It is the sweet nectar of life itself.”
Something like a vague shade of relief passed over the blonde’s face; her usual confident bearing slid back into place, and she was herself again. “Now you’re talkin’! What do you want?”
“Well, if the coffee here is actually any good, just get me some of that. Black, as strong as they can make it.”
“Are you sure? I mean, it’s usually pretty good, but-”
“Trust me, the coffee my dad makes can take the paint off a car, and I drink that just about every morning. They can’t make it too strong for me.”
“All right then,” Bianca said with a laugh before heading back the way they’d come. “If you’re sure.”
Alex spent the fifteen minutes or so that she was gone writing out two different plans for how they could divide the work, both to keep himself busy and to keep himself from thinking about other things. Like their previous conversation. Or how unexpectedly interesting and intelligent Bianca had turned out to be. Or how she really was beautiful, enough so that it was almost as if a physical shock ran through him every time she met his eyes. Or how part of him still dearly wanted to bolt, and send some bullshit apology text about how something important had come up and he’d had to leave. All thoroughly undesirable trains of thought, to be avoided at all costs. Thus, his deep, intense focus on the possible plans.
He was just beginning to outline a third option, which blended the other two, when Bianca came back, her return heralded by an increased potency in the scent of coffee. Alex accepted his cup with a terse “Thanks,” immediately tested it for heat and taste, and found it nearly cool enough to drink and surprisingly not bad. “Here’s what I came up with as a possible outline for the project,” he said, pushing his notebook towards the other sophomore, “and also a couple ways we could split the labor.”
Bianca looked up from dumping two mini-creamers and a packet of sugar into her own coffee, stirring it and then giving it a trial sip as she looked over what he’d come up with. “Dang, your handwriting’s small,” was her first comment, followed by a longer drink of coffee and then, “really neat, though, especially for a guy.” Alex waited with thinly veiled impatience for her to say something that was actually relevant to their project, and scalded his tongue by taking a too-large and too-quick drink of his own coffee just to have something to do in the meantime. “Hmm, I think I like the second set-up best, but it looks like you were working on combining the two, and that would be fine with me also. Just be sure that if you do go with that one that you still give me my fair share of stuff to do, okay?”
Alex smirked down at the tabletop, resisting the urge to take another too-soon swallow of coffee. “Don’t want me telling Uncle Mal that you didn’t pull your weight?”
Bianca pulled a face at him over the rim of her coffee cup. “I don’t wanna give you the satisfaction, it’s true, but...I also just wanna do my part. We’re kind of a team now, whether you like it or not, so we might as well get along and have some fun in the process. Right?”
He’d been having trouble looking at her again, but that team comment and the honest, hopeful ring in that last single-word question caught him off-guard enough that, once again, he couldn’t help looking over at her. Her expression was every bit as earnest and optimistic, and Alex found that he didn’t have the heart to deny any of it this time.
“Sure,” he said, looking away and pulling his notebook back to continue working on that third plan. “If you say so.”
With Bianca’s help, it didn’t take long to come up with a working plan, and Alex was gratified to find that she was insistent on keeping the workload fairly balanced--both for her and for him; she wasn’t about to let him get away with not doing his share, either.
Once that was settled, they fell to working on their homework, first for World History, then their other classes, even though they didn’t have any more overlaps in their schedules. Time passed as they chatted about all sorts of random things--none of it anything too deep or serious again, though--and Alex surprised himself with his own willingness to engage in, at times even carry, the conversation. He was commenting on a new movie they’d both seen and only half-liked, also absently working ahead on something for his journalism class, when his phone gave a low buzz to indicate an incoming text; looking down at it, he noticed the time and gave a slight start, surprised to find that they’d been there for nearly three and a half hours.
He hadn’t known that there was anyone in the world who he didn’t mind spending that much time with in one go, much less someone he could talk to for that length of time.
Bianca also seemed surprised by how long they’d been there. When he mentioned the time, her sea green eyes went wide with alarm before she hurriedly started gathering her things, babbling something about a team meeting and watching some films from a school they were playing that weekend before dashing off, chirping a cheerful, “See you in class!” back over her shoulder as she vanished into the bookshelves.
Alex managed to not watch her go this time, keeping his attention on packing up his own things, and away from the odd flicker of emotion her words had sent through him: something quick and darting and yet not unpleasant that he had no name for other than, perhaps, anticipation.
Riiiight. I’m looking forward to a gen ed history class. That makes perfect sense. He gave a low snort as he slung his bag across his chest, pushed in their chairs, and scooped up his long-empty coffee cup. That’ll be the day.
...And yet, for whatever reason, he couldn’t entirely deny the fact that the idea of Wednesday’s class didn’t seem quite as annoying as it had before, though he couldn’t seem to work out any real, plausible cause for that shift, however slight.
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