I type back and send before it dawns on me that she just played me. I’m slow to get out of bed, and contemplate going to class looking like the quintessential college kid. No one would really care. Chicks dig the messy, I-just-rolled-out-of-bed-look on guys just as much as dudes like the I-just-got-fucked-look on a chick.
Each step I take on my way to the bathroom has me thinking of another excuse as to why I should stay home. I don’t know why I’m being such a baby about taking this class - it’s only for two weeks, two hours a day... and half the time I’ll be on the road. But, I’ll be on campus with Daisy and I think that’s what’s scaring me. I don’t want her to get sick of me because I’m around too much, or worse, act like we aren’t seeing each other to avoid scrutiny in the press, even though everyone knows we’ve been hanging out. The BoRe Blogger made that public for us.
My hair is an unruly mess and standing on end. I run my hands under the water and through my hair but nothing changes. It’s definitely a hat day for me. I finish up the rest of my necessary morning crap in the bathroom before slipping on a pair of sweats with a Nike t-shirt and shoes. The ladies in the front office of the Renegades were gracious enough to buy me a few school supplies which I gather up before heading out the door. The thought hadn’t even crossed my mind that I would need a pen and paper.
The drive over to the University takes longer than I had planned and once I find a parking spot that seems far enough away to be in another country, I’m running to class with a map in my hands like a lost freshman. “Official Nerd Alert” should be flashing across my chest right now. I enter what I hope is my class, out of breath and with 100 or so eyes staring at me. There’s clear recognition of who I am as eyes go wide, mouths drop and the eager whispers and texting starts.
“Mr. Davenport, it’s so nice of you to join us,” the professor so nicely announces, pointing out that I’m late. I nod in his direction and take the first available seat, which happens to be between two girls, both brunette and both watching my every move.
They lean toward me in unison as I get comfortable and the one on my right hands me the paperwork that I need.
“Thanks,” I mumble, keeping my eyes focused on the professor.
“You’re welcome, Ethan,” she says dreamily, which really makes me uncomfortable. I’m used to this kind of attention, but something about her and her friend on my left seems odd. I can’t put my finger on it. Tomorrow, I’m going to have to be early so I can pick another seat and maybe pay some dudes to sit next to me.
“Social media is a powerful tool,” the professor starts. “It can be used for just about everything. Many people announce their engagements, the birth of a child, or when they’re in a relationship. It can also be used for bad news, like when you change a relationship status from ‘in a relationship’ to ‘it’s complicated’. Most of you don’t realize that it wasn’t that complicated until you made it such on social media.”