8:00 pm

            I check my phone for a text. It is six-twenty three on a Wednesday night and Professor Ahmed walks back and forth in front of the lecture hall while he talks about Prophet Muhammad. I type in a few notes on my laptop as he lectures. I check my phone again. Still nothing. I move around in my seat being careful not to make sound. The cushion gives in and squeaks. I sigh. I sit by myself near the exit of the lecture hall. Several students are standing up to leave and I am distracted as they pass by me. I force myself to pay attention to what the prof is saying.

"Just thirty more minutes," I whisper to myself.

My phone vibrates. I grab my phone and see a text from Mark, "Hey I'm at UTM. Let me know when you're out." I chew the inside of my mouth out of habit.

I met Mark last year before Christmas at his mom's surprise birthday party. Coincidentally he also goes to UofT downtown and he is my age, but he is taking a year off for an internship. His mom is one of my mom's coworker, so I thought it was okay for me to hang out with him a week later after he invited me through a Facebook chat. This is the third time we are meeting in person since the party. He suggested picking me up from school after his work. He also picked me up last week. I made sure that he dropped me home before eight because I didn't want my parents to know that I was not taking the bus home. My parents don't know about tonight either.

I grab my water bottle and take a few sips but the taste of skin still lingers in my mouth. I carefully take my lip balm and a pack of mints out of my bag. I apply the lip balm and glide my lips against each other. I pop a mint into my mouth and suck on it throughout the rest of lecture.

"Just a reminder that tutorials start next week." Professor Ahmed says thirty minutes later.

I close my laptop and I shove it in my bag. I slide my arms into my jacket and I rush to the washroom. I stand in front of the mirror and try to fix my hair. I cover my head with a black beanie as I leave. I zip up my jacket as I push through the doors of the Instruction Centre building and walk towards the cars that are lined up against the curb for pick-up. I don't see Mark's car anywhere so I go into the library entrance beside Starbucks and text him that I am outside the library. He texts back that he is on the way.

"I'm right across the library entrance." He texts a few seconds later.

I walk out and scan the idled cars looking for his dark green one. I don't remember what type of car he drives and it is too dark outside to recognize his face behind the wheel. I stand and wait for him to give me some kind of signal. Wave or something, I think to myself.

And he does. I see him waving behind a dirty windshield right across from me. I walk into the driveway and get inside the car. He smiles at me.

"Hey," he says.

"Hey, sorry about that. I couldn't see you." I say as I put my bag on my lap and grab my seatbelt.

"It's okay. My car doesn't have any windshield washer at the moment."

He starts driving on Outer Circle Road towards The Collegeway entrance. I breathe in the smell of his car. It smells exactly like it did the last time I sat here; a mix of guy sweat and a subtle hint of perfume.

"How was class?" He asks.

"It was more tolerable this time."

"That's good." He glances at me while he drives. Only his right hand on the wheel. "How are you?"