The TA.

Awkward

Nathan is there when I walk into class. He's shaved his stubble and straightened up. He's wearing a pinstripe blazer with the sleeves rolled back, tight black skinny jeans and Vans. I look away when his eyes try to find mine. I sit slumped over the desk and draw scribbles in the margin as Prof Smith kicks off class by asking us to write for half an hour. Nathan types away on his laptop for a few minutes, then sets it aside on the windowsill and starts to prowl.
I know he'll come over here, lean over me, and I know I won't be able to protest. I straighten up, square my shoulders and act focused and disinterested.
"This is awkward," he mutters, reaching over me to point to a line that's smoother than butter.
I look down at my notebook and the neat lines within, at the words I've scrawled down, the line he's picked out.
He gives me four dread syllables instead of those three little words. 
"It's meant to be."
He lifts his finger from the page of my notebook and crouches down next to me. I see Cal toss us a glance, then go back to her work. 
"Lannie," he whispers. "I can explain." 
"This is hardly the time or place."
He nods to himself, rises and walks across to the other side of the room to bother someone else. 
Cal leans across, "That was weird. What's going on?" 
"Nothing," I tell her, smiling. 
She narrows her eyes but doesn't say anything.
My phone buzzes under my thigh. I slide it out an inch and read the message on my lock screen.
Nathan: Have you considered how immature this strategy is?
Me: What strategy? I'm not playing a game.
Nathan: You leave in the middle of the night and now you ignore me in class, pretty petty, no?
I glare over at him.
I tap out of our messages and open my texts to Brooklyn.
To Brooklyn: Hey sis, I need to get off campus for a bit, can I come spend the weekend with you?
She is, as usual, quick to respond.
Brooklyn: Yes, of course! Are you okay?
Me: Just need a break.
Brooklyn: Drive up tomorrow babe, stay until Sunday. 
"We seem to be distracted today," Prof Smith says to the room at large.
I drop my phone back into my bag and shift the swivel seat of my chair from side to side. I stare at my notebook for the rest of class, tap my pen off my bottom lip as I think.
While everyone else is packing up, Prof Smith stays still, meets my eyes as he says, "Lannie, would you stay behind for a moment?"
Cal sends me another look and then breezes out. 
When the room is empty, I lean forward on my elbows and wait for whatever he has to say.
"Are you okay?" Prof Smith asks, adding, "You're turning in a lot of work about-"
"A boy," I finish. "Yeah."
Over in the corner, Nathan fidgets, scratches the back of his neck.
"Should I be here?" Nath murmurs.
Prof Smith tells him to stay, they have lessons to plan once I'm gone.
"Is your head above water?" Prof Smith asks me. "I know you are on top of my assignments, but how are your other classes?" 
"Fine."
And they are, I have not missed a deadline or dropped below a B. 
"Alright, go enjoy your weekend," he says.
I send Nathan a long look before I grab my notebook and bag and rush home to pack.