Just Roll With It: a Just Us novel (4 page)

"We hold these truths to be self-ev … evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endow … endowed by their … Life, Liberty, and the pursuit of Happiness among men. That to secure these rights, to secure these rights," he falters continuously.

He sighs and starts the next sentence over again. I'm struggling to listen to this, His voice trembles, making me cringe for him. It's like an embarrassing scene in a movie, the one you don't want to watch because you get embarrassed for the character. But, I have to watch this time, because it's really happening.
All right, Weiss, enough is enough. Make the poor guy stop already.

"'Okay good, you can stop there." Weiss waves his hand, gesturing him to stop. Finally.

The class goes on talking about what we've just read like nothing happened. I, on the other hand, notice how uncomfortable Roman is. His face is beet red. He wears the "kill me now" look as he lets out the deep breath he was holding in. I know the feeling; I know it all too well. Roman, who has the tough-guy-with-tattoos-and-great-hair-and-girls-would-be-lucky-to-have-me vibe about him, is painfully nervous.

I have come to the conclusion that he is adorable, and I am in lust with him. If only he would notice me. Perhaps, Tuesdays and Thursdays won't be as bad as I thought.

Now the universe is fucking with me.

She walked into the room looking awkward as all shit. It's clear she doesn't like being the center of anyone's attention, but her presence is undeniable.

I can't get distracted. I can't. Bug's a hazard; the wreckage she could bring to my bottom line. She's not getting in my head and messing up my shit.

I went down that road before. I can blame it on being young, and stupid, and … just really goddamn stupid. I'm not young enough to be that stupid again. Ignore it. Fuck her. 

I wake up Wednesday morning at six-thirty. I am not a morning person, so I'm half stumbling as I walk into the kitchen to start filling the water for my first pot. I received a Keurig for Christmas last year, but for me, only being able to make one cup of coffee at a time is inefficient. Plus, those single serving cups are expensive as funk. I'm living off of student loans as it is. I have to down at least two pots of coffee to even think straight.

I would never have picked a crack-ass of dawn class, but for some forsaken reason, the morning class was the only painting class available. I don't know a single person, let alone artist, who would want to paint so early in the morning. Unless they were specifically painting a sunrise and trying to catch the morning colors and shadows, but we are not.

I usually paint in the evenings when I'm winding down and with a glass of wine. I sound pretentious, and I'm lying. I sip on a Jack and Coke or a gin a tonic. Wine gives me headaches.

Enzo is still asleep, the lucky bastard. He scheduled all of his classes for two days a week, Tuesdays and Thursdays. He is gone all day long on those days, but home all day Mondays and Wednesdays. I wish my schedule would have worked out like his.

I drink my second cup while I take a shower. I have to set the mug on the toilet lid, so I don't water down the roast. I've practiced this. Only when the time comes to brush my teeth do I take a break from my coffee. Normal people take coffee breaks; I take breaks from coffee. My doctor said caffeine is not conducive to my condition. I don't care; coffee is one thing I need and its non-negotiable.

After I'm dressed, I throw my hair up into a high messy bun, and I head out the door. On art days, I don't particularly take time to do hair and makeup. There's no reason—once I start painting, I get in my zone and nothing else matters. The world falls away. I shouldn't see Roman, even in passing by the parking lot. Nope, no reason at all for primping today.

Nate's in class with me. We usually set up our easels by each other. I like having him there for when I take my breaks; I can talk to him when I step back and evaluate my work. He usually talks about his ex-girlfriend. I don't mind, I like to listen. Plus, listening to him carry on about another girl reassures me his feelings mimic mine about our relationship. No strings. Easy and convenient.

"So, Ren Fest Saturday. I'm looking forward to eating a crap-ton of meat on a stick."

"Eeew, so gross. You would want something like stick shaped meat, wouldn't you?" I heckle him.

"Well, yeah. What else is the Ren Fest is for. What do you go there for?" he asks.

"I happen to like their soup bread bowls, and I watch the jousting."

"Ahh, you're killing me." He throws his head back in exasperation. "Go to Panera Bread then."

"You know it's not the same. Plus, they don't have good hard cider on tap, or jousting," I joke.

"Yeah, but you can't even buy alcohol yet," he points out.

"I will be able to, in a couple of weeks," I remind him.

"Too bad we're going this Saturday then." He pokes me with the end of his paint brush.

"Good thing you are old enough to buy one for me then. Isn't that what guys like to do, buy girls drinks?"

"Girls, they want us to like buying them the drinks just as much as we like to buy the drinks for them." He winks at me and turns back to his painting.

Class wraps up quickly, and I feel the time went too fast. The class is so early that it's still only ten o'clock. I have a design class in the afternoon. Nate and I usually hang out in his grandma's basement, where he currently resides, and grab lunch to kill time. I don't want to hang out today—it doesn't feel right anymore. I can't stop thinking about Roman.

I find myself counting down the hours until I'm in Government. Which is ridiculous because he barely acknowledged me. It's a dilemma. I can't decide if I should let it go, or if I should just go for it. I'll admire him from afar, for now, until I decide my next step.

"Ready to go?" Nate asks.

"Nah, I think I'm going to head home during break today."

He's taken back by my answer, shrugging in defeated acceptance.

"All right, see you later then," he grumbles.

"Yep, see ya." I wave goodbye, and then I walk to my car instead of his.

My next class goes much slower than my painting class did. The history of graphic design is not required for my degree, but the class fills a design credit and a history credit I need. I figured I could suck it up and kill two birds. Nate's not in my class, but he does take a typography class down the hall.

We are watching a documentary about the first printing press and the effects printing had on the Protestant Reformation. I enjoy history and would usually be more interested, but today I'm distracted.

My mind is all over the place, and I'm really not feeling very well. I'm sweating so bad my shirt has the classic dark pits from being drenched under the arms. The light and movement from the projection on the wall is making my head spin.

I thought once I moved out on my own I wouldn't get these spells anymore. Seems like there's no getting away from them. I need to go home and take my meds, maybe paint for a bit, and I will feel better. There are things that work, I just wish they didn't happen in the first place.

I walk through my apartment door, right past Enzo, and into my room. He won’t take offense to the elusive behavior; he's used to me. I turn on some music, pull out my supplies, and the world falls away. For a little while, my mind is at peace.

Today's Thursday and I'm nervous. An excited nervous, not the other kind. I even took extra care getting ready today: I straightened my hair and threw on a little mascara, blush, and lip gloss.

I am sitting in my seat waiting for Roman to show up so I can get another look to store in my memory, but he's not as early today. Actually, class is minutes from beginning, and he still hasn't shown. Disappointment begins burning through my body, and my stomach mimics a sinking anchor. Did he drop? As conceited as it sounds, I can't help but wonder if it has something to do with me?

I look up one last time and see him slide in right as Weiss pulled the door closed. I'm instantly in a better mood. I was starting to think he really did drop. I'm always thinking straight to worst case scenario. I blatantly stare while he moves fluidly toward the seat he sat in Tuesday. Most people sat in the same seats, but a few decided to switch, so I'm glad he chose to stay put.

He ambles in, not caring who looks at him, composed and sure of himself. Quite the opposite of how he looked after reading aloud from the text. That must've been an isolated incident. He is the perfect enigma. I'm sure he didn't mean for the nervous textbook incident to happen, but I'm glad I got even a small glimpse past his bad boy facade. He continues to look straight ahead until he's seated, and opens up his book. Not recognizing my existence in the least.

Papers are passed back through the rows again. And again, I peek over when I get the chance as I grab my stack. Roman was looking at me. A jolt of electricity runs under my skin, but the moment is short lived when he looks back down. I jerk my eyes over at the heavier-set guy I'm passing the stack to, pretending I wasn't checking to see what Roman was doing.

He appeared entirely unembarrassed at being caught, but he didn't look interested, either. He looked upset almost, like he was mad at me. I imagine that would be the sort of focused glare a mobster would give to the guy who cheated him, right before he buries the body in the desert.

Throughout the rest of class, I see him continue to survey me. He casually moves his eyes only, not tilting his head in any way. He doesn't think I can see. I need to know what he's thinking. I keep peering back, and he's always studying me.

He catches me catch him at some point during class, so I thought he would stop. He didn't. Now I'm getting paranoid. He wouldn't acknowledge I existed two days and two hours ago, but now this? I keep jerking my head back to the front of the room after checking for him, and I try my best to pay attention.

This is a hard class, and I need to pass in order to graduate on time. He has to be wondering what I'm wondering. Is he fucking with me?

I look back once more. Yep, still fixedly glaring. I made sure to wear a belt today, so I don't think something like my underwear or ass crack is showing.
Got to be a plus, right?

I rush out of the classroom as soon as we are dismissed.