Shaking the rain off my hair and wishing I was organised enough to carry an umbrella, I looked around the food court for Garrett. He was sat, engrossed by his phone screen, so I made my way over to his table. As soon as I got there, he was out of his chair and holding one out for me.
“Let me get something to eat first,” I said, ignoring the chair.
“I’ll get it. You sit down.” His tone was one of command.
“I can get my own lunch!”
“I know but I’m trying to be a gentleman here. Give me a break, will you?” The combination of his smile and the proximity of others meant I had little choice but to go along with it. “What do you want?”
“I’ll have a jacket potato with cheese and beans. Oh, and a Sprite, please.” Having draped my coat over the back of the adjacent chair, off he went to buy lunch.
“Here. I don’t know how you can call those things beans, though. They’re gross!” Once the lunch trays were placed on the table, he sat across from me and smiled. I hadn’t noticed his teeth before. It was true what they said about American dentistry. He had a great smile.
When it was time to make our way to the lecture, he pulled me close and sheltered us both underneath his coat, holding the hood over both of our heads. The difference in height meant the walk was an endless knocking of elbows and legs and we were breathlessly laughing when we finally reached our destination, almost falling through the door to the lecture hall.
“Oh, and what do we have here? A scene from some airport chick-lit romance where the couple fall in love through the raindrops? How sweet. You’re late. Sit down and kindly do not disturb us any more than you already have. Back to Victorian balladry, everyone.” The lecturer’s sarcasm definitely brought an end to our laughter. I was embarrassed and angry. Checking my phone, I could see we weren’t late; he had started early. As the lecture progressed, my anger grew to the point where my notes were little more than random words punctuated by ferocious stabs of my pen.
Garrett didn’t get the chance to stop me making my way to the front of the hall as soon as the lecturer dismissed us.
“Ah, an apology, is it? Better late than never, I suppose.” His words did nothing whatsoever to appease me.
“No, this isn’t an apology, as we weren’t late. I checked and it wasn’t quite three thirty when we sat down. You started early.”
“Sorry. Was I supposed to wait until the chime of the clock to begin? Everyone else was seated and ready but because you,” he paused to scan the seating plan, “Miss Peters and Mister Adams, were not here, we were supposed to sit and make small talk until you deigned us with your presence?” The old man’s voice was dripping in sarcasm and I could feel the blood rush to my cheeks.
“You do not have the right to talk to us like that, Sir,” I added my own note of sarcasm to the word. “We are paying ridiculous amounts on tuition. The least we deserve is to be treated like—”
“Doctor Randall, I’m sorry, we won’t be late again,” Garrett interrupted my spiel. “It was completely my fault. Please do not hold it against Neve, Sir.” His words were accompanied by a smooth smile, the one he had used on me before. The transformation in the lecturer was beyond belief.
“Of course, Adams. Garrett, isn’t it? Thank you for the apology. That was all that was needed. Just don’t make a habit of it,” he added, with a wink, before leaving the hall.
“What was that for?”
“I just wanted to smooth things over. There’s no point making enemies of the faculty.”
“But he was rude to us! He humiliated us, in front of everyone! I don’t pay nine grand a year to be treated like that!”
“Well, for a start, it’s not you who’s actually paying the nine thousand, is it? And, secondly, you were about to be very rude, some might say obnoxious, to a respected man of a certain age. Rudeness is never acceptable, Neve.”
“Who do you think you are? My dad? You can’t speak to me like that!”
“Yes, I can. I’m your friend and I won’t let you make a fool of yourself. That whole firecracker routine is amusing when you’re a child, entertaining even, but you’re not a child and so you need to stop acting like one.” Was he right? Did I act like a child? For once, I was speechless; the due north on my sense of self was so off at that point, I didn’t know if he was right.
“Come on, let’s go,” he said, walking away. Knowing if I refused to go with him it would only accentuate his point about my childish behaviour, I followed and we walked in silence toward the housing complex.
“Which block are you in?” I asked when we reached the door of my house.
“Oh, I’m off campus. My car is parked by the union.”
“So why have you just walked the whole length of the campus with me then?”