Like Real People Do [🗸]

02. rookie

this book was like. so difficult for me to get out bc the fear of it just not sailing ?? (that makes no sense) is so real so it's like. been harder to post chapters due to the hesitance ? but then i decided j Screw It n write ur shit so here it is !!

***

I've mastered the art of not understanding.

It's simplistic, really. You lean back in your seat, press your tongue to the roof of your mouth, nod your empty head back and forth, eyes glowing with understanding to conceal the fact that there's not a thought occurring behind those eyes. 

I've mastered this art extremely quickly, given that I understand exactly jackshit of the Computer Science lecture occurring in front of me.

Many things can be said about this. One: I did sign up for this course voluntarily. Two: computer Science is something that I know. It's my shit. If ruthlessly shaken awake, I could recite a line of code in my sleep. 

Knowing something is all well and good until you level up the knowledge staircase and for some reason, some asshole up there thinks that you'll easily regain your footing. 

I rock back and forth in my seat. I catch just about nothing, trying to scribble every word I hear into my notebook to no avail. 

I'd much like to ram my head against the fucking table, but I don't. I twirl my pen, then write, and ponder all the life decisions that led me to being in this place at this time. Next to me, someone with bejeweled black braids eyes me from where she's seated. 

She tilts her head to the side and her eyes appear to say: what a sad, confused little man. Perpetual confusion seems to be my current state of being, and the girl returns her gaze to the front, typing something onto her phone. 

The lecture is dwindling to an end. The freshmen are no longer untamed partygoers but baggy-eyed college students who are only here because they're expected to be.

The party sounded like a dream, and now, I suppose, we're waking the fuck up. Some of us, at least. I swear that I can spot at least a good three people asleep. Two people are pressed against each other, eyes shut. I could bet they've never met the other person in their life before.

My eyes refuse to flutter shut, peeled open like the world will explode if for just one second I doze off. Insomnia's good for something.

My phone vibrates and my eyes flash to the screen. 

esther okoye would like to share a video

The ACCEPT and DECLINE blare at my face. The girl from earlier offers me a glance, a head jut. All that is visible in the video are the backs of people's heads and the ugly corduroys the professor is wearing. 

It's a recording of the lecture, and I suppose this Esther Okoye might as well be my guardian angel. The class comes to a close, I shuffle up to angel, falling into step with her.