A Bag Left Behind

I

   I awake abruptly to the sound of my blaring alarm clock. The highest volume is ideal considering how heavy of a sleeper I am. The clock reads 10:00pm, exactly two hours before before my first and only class today. I slowly get up, and by get up I mean slide off of my bed almost slamming down onto my apartment floor which wakes me up.
   I make my way to the bathroom and do all the normal things in order to get ready very slowly. I despise having to rifle through my clothes to find an outfit right after I wake up because have no idea what I'm doing, so I try to pick out my clothes the night before but of course, I end up hating it. My indecisiveness really kicks in right when I wake up.
   By the time I am all dressed and somewhat pleased with the way I look, I have about five minutes until I have to be out the door to head to class. Of course, I push it and spend a little more than five minutes on my phone doing absolutely nothing.
    "Oh shit!" I say out loud as I look up on my phone screen, brighter than my whole apartment, to see the time; 11:57.
My college is only about five minutes away but I'm definitely pushing it at this point. Story of my life.

   I "rush" out the door with everything I need in hand and head to my car. I turn the heat on to warm up my hands because it's just about close to snowing outside around this time in Pennsylvania. I turn on the radio and play the songs that give me the good kinds of chills. Chills I know aren't from the frigid weather. "Hmm hmm hmmm" I just hum along as I drive. It keeps me calm.
   I eventually reach my school, Underwood Community College. It's no grand, big brick and ivy like I had dreamed of as a little girl, but it was still a way for me to get at least some education. Right?
   Two minutes behind schedule, I walk into the building my psychology class so patiently awaits my arrival in. It was like routine, I didn't even have to think about which way to turn or what other doors to walk through. I go into auto pilot without a thought in my mind, which is very rare. That's how routine it became within a couple short months. I guess one of my strengths is adapting quickly. I've been in this town all my life but for some reason i just seem to adapt quickly. I don't take it for granted.
   I walk down the last hallway to reach my destination. I notice the door hasn't been shut yet and I silently whisper a harsh "yes" and pick up my speed a bit. I made it.
    I walk in and take my seat in the very back corner of the room. It's easier to get stuff done if you have full view of your surroundings; in my opinion at least. My professor finally decided to close the door, a little later than usual but I'm not complaining.
   I chuckle as He picks up his old fashioned clip board holding the non-attendance sheet, simply because I miss the days when we would all have clips boards of our own and decorate the back with minuscule drawings of things we found cute as children. It brought me back to a time of innocence and I got a little lost in my head for a bit as he pushed his glasses up on his nose and began to call role.
    "Celeste Iver." I heard my name echo from the professors mouth. As per usual, I raised my hand and answered with a "here." I felt at least one pair of eyes fix on me but I paid no attention. I heard a couple more names come from the front of the class as I sat with my wandering mind.
    "Jake Kiszka." I heard another name come from him. The name made me snap out of my day dream. That doesn't sound very familiar. The unfamiliarity didn't make me look around but once I heard the sound of leather and a raspy deep "Here" come from a couple rows in front of me, I had to look up.
Once my eyes reached his direction, I noticed the sound was his from his jacket slightly, squeaking from the raise of his hand. He sat a couple rows ahead, almost completely in front of me. I noticed the way he sat. His back slightly hunched with his arms set on the desk and his fingers interlocked. His hair was a darker brown and quite long. Just past his shoulders which was unusual for guys in this town, as far as I had seen.
   Although it may have seemed so, I didn't stare for an eternity. Just long enough to want to see his face. As class had started and I took out my book and a pen I got to work. I would occasionally look up from the nonsense I was reading that I didn't understand just to see if I could catch a glimpse of his face but it never did seem to work out that way. I endured about an hour and a half more of that class with no luck of putting a face to the name that was far from fading away from my mind.