Nate

Straight after my morning lecture, I head over to the library and set myself up at a desk.

I have a calculus class in a couple of hours, so I might as well spend this time getting a head start on everything.

I set an alarm on my phone so I don’t lose track of time and miss my class, and when it goes off, I can’t believe I’ve been here that long.

My stomach rumbles as I leave the library, but I only have time to grab a granola bar and eat it on the way.

I’m a little headachy in class, but I force myself to focus. The numbers on the board start to meld into one and when my professor asks me I question, I choke and she moves on to someone else.

I spend the rest of the lesson thinking of ways to redeem myself, but the opportunity never arises.

When Professor Russell calls time on the class, I gather my books together with my head down, trying not to catch anyone’s eye, but Professor calls me name and my face flushes as people turn to look at me.

If I’ve been asked to stay behind after a class in the past, it was to praise me, but surely that’s not what Professor Russell wants to do.

She leans against her desk as the other students file out, saying goodbye, and when the last one is gone and has closed the door behind them, she cocks her head at me and says, “, you seem tired today.”

My face burns, but I force myself to maintain eye contact.

“I am a little, I guess.”

“Have you been sleeping okay?”

“Yes, thank you.”

“Do you live in student accommodation?”

“No, I live with my parents, just off-campus.”

Her eyebrows come up, “that’s handy.”

“We’ve always lived in New York, but my mom moved us here when my brother and I got into the same college.”

“Your brother goes to this college?”

“Harrison Jones, he’s the captain of the ice hockey team.”

“Really?”

I nod.

“Your parents must be very proud. Of both of you.”

I wish she would just say whatever it is she wants to say. I don’t want to stand here talking about how proud my parents are of Harrison after I failed to answer a simple question in calculus.

“, how many hours a day do you study?”

“Um… I don’t know, around eight.”

She whistles. “That’s too much.”

“Too much!?”

I say before I can force the words back in, but she laughs.

“, studying isn’t like a 9-5. It uses up an immense amount of cognitive resources and it is possible to drain those resources. You know how much energy the brain requires just to function.”

She doesn’t pose it as a question and I’m grateful for that at least. I nod.

“What do you do for fun?”

“Fun?”

She laughs. “Yes, fun.”

She’s waiting for an answer, but I honestly can’t think of anything. I force my brain through the last week of my life, picking out the parts that could be labelled as ‘fun’. Watching movies. Hitting baseballs at the batting cages. Getting a blow job from Jesse. “I watch movies, and I went to a batting cage for the first time since I was a kid recently.”

“Batting cages,”

she nods approvingly. This is not how I always pictured college professors. I wanted them to be stuffy and disapproving of sports. My people who could look down their noses at people who cry when their sports team loses a game.

“I have some homework for you ,”

she says, slipping behind her desk. “I want you to have fun.”

I blink at her and she laughs.

“I want you to go to the batting cages and get some fresh air. Go for a walk. Watching movies is fun, but it’s more screens, and we get enough of those. Do you think you could go outside for me ? Get a little movement in?”

I nod, but it’s a tentative one.

“I’m not asking you to train for a marathon here. You don’t even have to build up a sweat. Just get out of the library. It’s the start of the year, and you have one more year left. You’ll have plenty of time to be holed up in that stuffy place when you’re studying for your final exams, but not now, okay?”

I leave Professor Russell with the promise to get outside, but it’s not going to be easy. Katie likes the indoors just as much as I do, and I don’t know what to do by myself. Go for walks? How do you stop yourself from thinking about all the books you need to be reading right now? All the things you still don’t know? While you’re walking around aimlessly, your brain is missing out on all that information.

I text Jesse to see how he’s getting on at home.

‘My calculus professor gave me homework to go outside and have fun.’

He replies with a cry laughing face, ‘go to the batting cages!’

‘By myself? :o’

‘I’ll take you ice skating when I get back.’

Something about that sentence turns my legs to jelly. I’ve never been taken on a date before. And though Jesse might just be someone I’m ‘fooling around’ with, it’s the closest I’ve come to anything like that.

‘You can skate right?’

‘Yes, my dad taught us both when we were kids. I was actually pretty good at the skating part, just not the part with sticks.’

Another cry laughing face.

‘Maybe you should have been a figure skater.’

‘Ha ha, my dad would love that.’

‘He would when you were bringing home gold medals.’ He adds a little medal emoji.

He’s right. Why do parents have to focus on the medals and trophies and number one spots? They barely noticed my academic achievements while Harrison was winning awards named after dead hockey players, until I was named valedictorian – number one. Then they were proud.

I want to tell Jesse I miss him. I do miss him. But what do I really miss?

Should I text him something sexy? Tell him he gets the gold medal in blow jobs? No. Definitely not.

‘Maybe’, I reply instead, ‘have fun with your sister.’

I’m so bad at this hooking up thing.