𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐘 .•* 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐘𝐒𝐎𝐍

FIVE

Wrong Place, Right Time.  Right Place, Wrong Time?

•••

Whatever possessed me to take Global Issues had long left my body.  After two hours of failed studying and an additional twenty minutes trying to watch an old power point presentation, I was completely pooped and hadn't learned anything to show for it.

I rolled over in my bed and groaned, my fingers tugging at my hair.  The whole thing was frustrating.  I was bored, I wasn't learning, and I had no excuse not to get it done.

I ran through the list of students in my head who were taking the class.  William, as always, wasn't one of them, and neither was Eve Wilkins.  I hardly even had school friends in that class, and the ones I did were surely busy.  It was a Saturday night.

Suddenly, a name popped into my head.

Mark Grayson.

He was in the class before me, but I recalled acutely that he often took extra time to pack up and would leave as I arrived. It was a huge stretch, but maybe he'd be available.

I picked up my phone, typing in the appropriate number, and stared at the blank messaging screen. As it turned out, I forgot how to ask someone if they wanted to study. The line in the message block blinked in and out as I tried to articulate the most effective way to go about this.

I should call him. There was no more appropriate way to word that, but it was true. At least if I called and it was awkward, I would have called. It would be awkward in spoken language.

Taking a deep breath (you got this), I dialed the number and a pit of fear immediately filled my stomach. As the phone began to ring, my mind started to wander to all of the 'what if?'s. Thankfully, I wasn't able to ruminate about that for too long before a voice rang out with a clear, "Hello?"

"Hey, Mark? I was just wondering if you were doing anything at the moment. I'm swamped in Global Issues work and would love a helping hand."

I crossed my fingers and sent out a silent prayer to whoever would listen during the silence that followed.

"I-  Sure," Mark finally replied, a rustling sound occurring in the background. "I tried to get a little studying done earlier, too. Haven't had much luck."

"Hopefully we can fix that. You can come over in about an hour," I speculated, eyes flashing to my digital alarm.  "I would offer you dinner, but my Dad's hosting leftover night so I reccommend you eat beforehand."

"Noted," Mark replied. I could hear the smile in his voice. "I'm assuming by come over, you mean to your house? Can I get your address?  I'll come prepared."

"Oh, right.  I'll text you.  I hope by 'prepared' you mean well fed and carrying a backpack full of books," I joked.  I fought the urge to get up and pace around the room with the phone.

"Something like that. I expect you to be waiting at your door for me, pencils in hand.  Or pens, if you're more of a pen person," Mark replied, playing right back into my energy. 

"That can be arranged," I spoke.  "It would be a shame if I showed up unready for my own study session."

"I'm relying on you to be a good study buddy," Mark announced, his voice slightly deeper over the phone.  "To be honest, I really haven't learned much in this class at all.  I hope you know what you're doing."