Storm, Meet Raine

Teddy Bear.

HIM.

My head wasn't necessarily pounding when I woke up, so maybe I had my streak of not drinking alcohol to brag about. My brain, however, was very much still in a fog, and my mouth was dry as hell. I deduced that I was dehydrated at the very least, and spent most of my morning sipping on water while staring at Carter as she continued to catnap on the bus ride back home.

She didn't say much to me when we finally got back to campus, not that I minded. I didn't feel like holding a conversation either. She simply let out a yawn and split ways with me. I went to get coffee, and she went to our room to probably sleep through her classes today.

Which is most likely the reason why she hasn't shown up to our psychology class yet. Chute was going to rip her a new one, that's for sure, and I don't even feel bad. Lazy girl. "Hey man, how ya doing?" Some kid from my class sinks in a seat next to me, his knee bouncing up and down as he nervously taps his fingers against the desk.

"What do you want?" Like I said, I'm not in the mood for conversing. The caffeine from my black roast just hasn't made its way to my brain yet, and until it did, I'll just continue to seem half alive.

"I need you to do me a favor," he turns to me, both hands placed on the desk as he leans in closer. His breath carried traces of tree over to me, causing my nose to scrunch up as I lean back, further away from him. He didn't wait for me to ask him what favor he needed, his filthy mouth opening and asking me anyway, "Could you write a paper for me, my guy? It's um...World History and thirteen pages long. Due next Thursday."

I sigh, closing my eyes so that I could live through my schedule for next week very quickly. Huffing, I accept his challenge, "I'll do it for two-fifty."

He lifts up from the back of the chair in shock, no longer slouching. "Bro I don't have two hundred and fifty dollars to throw around!"

"Tough," I shrug.

"Can't you lower it? Fuck's sake, man," he whines, rubbing his eyes. I stare at him, my face feeling heavy with the lack of sympathy I was showing. This dude, who I've never spoken with, comes to me asking for a thirteen page world history paper. Do I look like a history major to you? I don't know the Shia and Sunni from the Lakota, and he expects me to do his work for what? Twenty bucks? Twenty my fat ass, he's gonna pay.

I voice this to him because the numbers aren't getting pulled blindly. I have shit to pay for, too. He's not the only guy coming up on debt. He was playing with his fingers, weighing his pros and cons. I sold it to him like I worked in a car dealership. No way I wanted to actually type his paper, but making about three hundred in a couple days doesn't sound too bad. "Pay me tomorrow, and I'll get it done two days earlier."

His eyes nearly jumped out of their sockets. "Hell no! Why would I pay you before I get the work?"

"Look around the classroom," most of the damn kids in here weren't getting anything above a passing grade because no one cared about an intro to psychology class. "I don't fuck around with schoolwork. You give me the money early, you get your paper early; with a guaranteed A-plus."

He winces, "If I get an A, she'd know I didn't write it. I'm just passing, bro."

"B minus then," I conclude, before turning away from him in dismissal. He gave me a sorry excuse for a thanks, but I didn't need anything more than the cash. Now I have to check my schedule and clear out some shit. I have a paper to write.

Chute comes in, and sets up before telling us we'd be going over research methods. During the beginning of the lecture, I kept noticing I was subconsciously staring at the door, waiting for her to come in. I don't even know why I wanted to see her, it's not like the sight would be pretty. Her hair would be pulled up in a lopsided bun, strands all over the place. Mostly the ones in the back would be loose.