He was drawing.
Cocking my head to the side, I tried to focus on what the hell an astronomical unit meant, which was some crazy number I couldn’t even begin to remember. Turned out to be the average distance the Earth orbits the sun. That was important because astronomical units were used to determine most distances in our solar system, but I found myself glancing at Cam’s notebook.
What the hell was he drawing?
“Now, most of you kiddos don’t care about astronomical units or have never really heard of them,” Professor Drage went on, passing the length of the stage. “What you are familiar with is the term ‘light year.’ Although, I doubt any of you really, truly understand what a light year is.”
I was pretty sure Cam was drawing Big Foot.
The lecture went on until Professor Drage suddenly changed gears at the end, catching me and everyone else besides Cam off guard, and started passing out star maps. “I know today is only Wednesday, but here is your first assignment for the weekend. Skies are supposed to be clear as a baby’s bottom on Saturday.”
“Clear as a baby’s bottom?” I muttered.
Cam chuckled.
“I want you to find the Corona Borealis in the sky—the actual real, honest to goodness, night sky,” Professor Drage explained, smiling as if he said something funny, but we all stared at him. “You won’t need a telescope. Use your eyes or glasses or contacts or whatever. You can view it either Friday or Saturday night, but the weather is looking sketchy on Friday, so choose wisely.”
“Wait,” someone from up front said. “How do you use this map?”
Cam handed me a map that had been passed down our row, along with several grid sheets.
Professor Drage stopped in front of the class. “You look at it.”
I bit back a laugh.
The student huffed. “I get that, but do we hold up to the sky or something?”
“Sure. You could do that. Or you could just look at each of the constellations, see what they look like and then use your own eyes and brains to find it in the sky.” The Professor paused. “Or use Google. I want all of you to start to get familiar with stargazing. You’re going to be doing a lot of that this semester and you’ll appreciate doing it now when it’s warm. So get with your partner and pick out a time. The grid will be turned back into me on Monday. That’s all for the day. Good luck and may the force of the universe be with you today.”
Several students laughed, but my stomach dropped out of my butt.
“Partner?” I said, voice low as I frantically looked around the classroom. Almost everyone was turned in their seat, talking to another person. “When did we pick partners?”
“On Monday,” Cam replied, closing his notebook and shoving it into his backpack. “You weren’t here.”
My heart thumped in my chest as I scooted to the edge of the seat. Shit. Professor Drage had already bounced from the room. Half the students were already out the door.
“Avery?”
How in the hell was I supposed to get a partner now? I really shouldn’t have run like a little baby on Monday. This was all my fault.
“Avery.”
Where was the Professor’s office? I was going to have to find the dude and explain I didn’t have a partner. I bet his office smelled weird, too, like moth balls.
“Avery.”
“What?” I snapped, turning to Cam. Why was he still sitting here staring at me?
His brows rose. “We’re partners.”
“Huh?”
“We. Are. Partners,” he repeated, and then sighed. “Apparently, Drage had the class pick their partners right at the beginning of class on Monday. I walked in afterward and at the end he told me to partner with anyone who joined the class on Wednesday or I’d be partnerless. And since I don’t like the idea of being partnerless, you and I are partners.”
I stared at him. “We have a choice to do this on our own?”
“Yeah, but who wants to go out staring at the sky at night by themselves?” He stood and slung his backpack over his shoulder as he started down the row. “Anyway, I know a perfect place we can do our assignment. Has to be Saturday, because I have plans Friday.”
“Wait.” I stood, rushing after him. “I do.”
“You have plans on Saturday?” He frowned. “Well, I might—”
“No. I don’t have plans on Saturday, but we don’t have to be partners,” I explained. “I can do this by myself.”
He stopped so suddenly in front of the doors that I nearly had a repeat of Monday. “Why would you want to do all the assignments—and if you look at his class outline, there’s a lot—all by yourself?”
“Well, I don’t really want to.” I shifted my weight from one foot to the next. “But you don’t have to be my partner. I mean, you don’t owe me or anything.”