A man, in faded green pants, black sweatshirt, tightly-laced combat boots, long brown hair that curled at the nape of his neck.A man, in faded green pants, black sweatshirt, tightly-laced combat boots, long brown hair that curled at the nape of his neck. The sleeves were pushed up, and I could see the hard muscles of his forearm as he pulled his falling backpack up. I looked further, past the immediate crowd that I'd already seen. Then I realized who I was looking for, and sighed. This was getting pretty stupid. I was graduating in a few weeks, and here I lay, looking for a guy I hardly even talked to. Maybe I should get pushed back to freshman year for being such an idiot. It had started... When? I wasn't sure. After I realized who he was. That he was in my class. Of course, I was the second of us to realize who the other was. One day he had seen me log into my account and placed me. Not long after that, I had asked to borrow his notes from our course together. I had been skipping too much this semester. Sleeping in, or just being a slug and reading junk like "Macho Sluts", or "Sandman" comics. Anyways, I needed to catch up in this lecture, the midterm was coming up pretty soon. After I had taken them from him, I didn't look at them, but just stuffed them in my bag and took off. Later that night, I had opened the cover and caught a glimpse of the name penned inside. Hmmm. I wondered if it was the same person that posted those letters to the file. I started flipping through the lined pages. No dates. He didn't bother with writing them in. Shit. This was going to be harder to get than I thought. Screw it. I could borrow them from some drone in the back of the class that went there religiously. I looked at the doodles in the margins and grinned. Universal. I put the notes back in my pack and dropped it under the bed. I returned them the next class. He smiled and asked if I had been able to interpret his scribbles. I laughed and said sure. So what if I hadn't copied them, I could have read his writing. I got the others the next class. She had the dates. Dates, and she had parts joted in... I stared closer at the ink. Greek? Great. Oh well. If the professor thought I could read and write Greek, if I remembered them verbatim from her notes, could be brownie points in there somewhere. |