Shelter // H.S.

Chapter 17

"I saw you in a dream
Then it came to an end
I wonder if you'll come visit me again
You're taking your time to reappear
I'm starting to believe that when I call your name
You just don't hear me anymore
And I know that I shouldn't even try
It's a waste of time"

Dallas

"... It is important to remember when booking your venues that you must also develop your emergency and contingency plans. This goes for any type of event: a wedding, a concert, a trade show, a convention or a conference. You must be prepared with plans for both immediately serious and unpredictable events. If you plan on working for a firm, they generally already have emergency and contingency plans set in stone, but let's say for instance if you wanted to start your own firm... "

The droning words of my professor echo through the large lecture hall, but for me, they go in one ear and out the other.

Who thought that scheduling the one and only Event Planning & Management class at 8am was a good idea?

I'm slumped back in my seat, my fingertips dancing over the keyboard of my laptop as I struggle to keep up with Dr. Campbell's lecture about event safety. I let out a yawn, covering my mouth with my sweatshirt covered arm, trying to conceal the fact that I am not enjoying this lecture one bit. I try to blink myself out of the sleepy haze but it doesn't really work.

I've never been the best at early morning classes. Granted, I've been able to adjust to them a bit over the years, but even as a junior now I honestly don't think it ever gets easy. Carson has never had a problem with it, she has no problems waking up at the ass crack of dawn fully energized.

I would have gone and gotten myself a coffee before class but the line was out the door and I was about to be late to class, so I had to skip out today. I reach for my insulated water bottle on the front of my desk, unwinding the cap and taking a long drink, hoping the ice cold liquid running down my throat will wake me up.

Nothing.

Maybe I'm still hung over?

I sigh to myself and place my water bottle back in the empty space on my desk that my laptop isn't occupying.

The unpleasant noise of the metal hitting the table reverberates around the room a little too loudly than I had hoped it would, a few wandering eyes turning their heads to look at me as I mouth a silent "Sorry."

My mind is elsewhere today.

The only thing I can kind of focus on in this classroom is the teacher's assistant sitting at their desk, grading our essays. It's some senior that must have kissed enough ass to get the job. We turned the essays in at the beginning of class and I've been watching them run the pen over the sheets of paper looking for mistakes in each student's work.

In all honesty, who gave them authority to grade things?

I know my essay is sitting in the completed pile by their side and the thought of what grade sits on the top right corner of my paper won't leave my mind.

I lean on to the armchair wrapping my hand behind my neck. My hand cups the area that ached for more of what occurred last night.

The feeling of Harry on my neck. His soft, swollen lips teasing the sensitive skin the way I teased him.

Oh God, not again.

I seriously curse whoever that drunk bastard was that interrupted our moment alone last night. I can only imagine what would have happened if our time hadn't been cut so short.