The Deep End

Chapter 2

- I'll take good care of you lady, have no fear, oh, So I wanna know...- "I Wanna Know" by Joe

Tia sat with her book bag neatly packed in the empty seat beside her. Despite the early morning rising, she was particularly happy with all of her classes. This year, compared to her freshmen year, had already turned out to be so much better. In her mind being a sophomore was one step closer to being a senior. The very thought was what kept her forcing herself to get up at the crack of dawn to prepare for class. She pulled out the designated notebook she had assigned for this class and laid it on the table in front of her. She was focused, she was ready and she was certain. That was her mantra...that was her goal. It was the same pep-talk she had been giving to herself for years. She was convinced that it would get her far.

The class continued to file in, some still sleepy eyed and others walking in with half eaten pop-tarts and hot pockets. As all the seats filled the professor walked in, his steps calm and collected as he sat his bag down. He was tall and sported thick rimmed glasses. He was dressed comfortably, his outfit of choice a laid back business casual that still somehow exuded authority. He was dark skinned with a neat mini fro, reminiscent of a teacher you expect to see in a movie from the ninety's.

This was only the second week of school and already he had assigned several long drawn out research papers as homework. Most of the class had complained immediately, still hopped up on their high of week-long fun that came with being back on campus. Her complaints had stayed inside, not daring to slip past her lips.

He grabbed a piece of chalk and proceeded to write his name on the blackboard, something he had taken to doing since their first week of class. He scribbled his name down in what resembled chicken scratch. He sat the chalk down before pulling out his attendance sheet. He had made it a point to take attendance at the beginning of class and after, merely to make sure he knew who the "trouble makers" in class were. He called out the names one by one, waiting for an answer before marking those in attendance down. Once he was satisfied with doing that he pulled out the work book, grabbed the piece of chalk and proceeded to start the class.

"Today," he started in his thick Nigerian accent, "we will continue our discussion on gender and sexuality in society." He wrote his words on the chalk board as he went, advising everyone to take notes.

Tia didn't have to be told twice.

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Wyatt yawned as he made his way across campus. He had struggled out of bed and truly contemplated whether or not this class was worth it. The thought to just go right back to sleep and forget his alarm ever went off was tempting but he knew that if he missed anymore classes, he would fall too far behind to catch up. And the last thing he needed was his dad finding out that he was skipping out on certain classes. That was a lecture that he just wasn't up for.

He walked inside Wesley Hall, headed for his Sociology class. He wasn't really a fan of it, in fact he thought it was the most irrelevant thing on his schedule but he had no say and he knew that. Withdrawing from it would have resulted in an argument that he, once again, wasn't ready for.

He took the stairs two at a time, stopping on the third floor. He walked onto the floor, rounding the corner until he got to his class room. He hesitated for a moment, really thinking it over before sighing and twisting the door knob, pulling the door open.

All eyes were quickly drawn to him as he walked in fifteen minutes late. He ignored the stares as he walked in, trying to find the nearest empty seat.

"Who are you?" The professor asked, catching his attention.

"Wyatt Anderson." He mumbled, surprised to have been called out.

The professor tsked before waving him off, "I would like to thank you for coming to class," he stopped to glance at his watch, "almost twenty minutes late. Find a seat, preferably in front."

Wyatt frowned but nodded, deciding it was better to humor the man rather than argue with him. He searched the front row until his eyes landed on the nearest seat. He moved toward it and quickly sat. He ran a hand down his face as the professor resumed his lecture, talking about social structures and barriers.

He could already feel his eyes drooping and a yawn playing at the back of his throat. Several people around him took notes, others lie with their heads on their desks, one eye open and the other half closed.

He leaned back in his seat, trying to keep himself awake despite the want to fall forward on his desk and sleep the rest of the two hour class. Time ticked by with slow deliverance and he zoned out, the only sounds audible to him were the ticking of the clock hands and the scribbling of pens to paper. The audible sounds of fingers clicking away at laptop keys.

He blinked back his fatigue, squinting in the dim light of the room. He sighed almost irritably, convinced that it was much too early to even be awake. He struggled to concentrate, his eyes wandering from the clock to his thoughts of sleep. Just as he began to lose the battle the sounds of scraping chairs and materials being put away lulled him from his slumber. He stretched lazily before standing, his chair scraping the porcelain tile. He grabbed his bag and made a beeline for the exit. He sidled his way through the crowd, trying to get out as quickly as he could.

But suddenly he was falling, a soft feminine shriek underneath him. He anticipated the hard tile before him but was surprised to find nothing but soft, warmth. His eyes widened when they fell on the girl beneath him.

He stared at her for a moment, familiarity clouding his mind. Where had he seen her?

The shocked expression on her face quickly dissolved into an embarrassed anger and she lashed out. "Get off me!" She snapped, her hands pushing at his hard chest.

The obvious emotion in her voice had him scrambling up. He stood and offered her his hand. She scowled at it before ignoring him entirely, picking up her fallen things and standing on her own.

"I'm sorry, sweetie. You okay?" He asked, "Did I hurt you?"

She gave him a look of utter disdain before saying in a low voice, "Watch where you're going."

With that she turned on her heels and stormed away. He watched her go, his eyes instinctively drawn to the sway of her hips, her body's shape, and the texture of her hair. And then it hit him, a small smirk played on his lips. It was the girl he had bumped into the night before. He was nothing short of amused. Her angry little scowl popped into his mind once more and he fought the urge to laugh. He wondered if bumping into her twice was more than coincidence. He also wondered if she was always so volatile with her emotions. He couldn't help the smirk that spread across his face. He knew that he had never seen her around campus. He never forgot a face, especially a female face. Or a body for that matter, especially the more well-endowed bodies. Curiosity hit him smack dab in the chest and he knew that the next time he saw her, he'd most definitely get her name.