(Then) Kinsley

"You have got to be kidding me," I muttered to myself as I walked into my Psychology classroom on the first Monday of the quarter.  Sitting there, looking smug as always, was Michael Bronson.  The Michael Bronson.  The one that made everything that much harder in high school.  Why was he here?  He shouldn't be here at DU.  In my two and a half years here, I hadn't seen him once, and I was reasonably certain he really had gone somewhere in Texas.

Of course, at that moment, as I stood there staring at him and processing my thoughts, he turned and saw me.  He grinned broadly.  "Kins," he said, his grin melting into a smirk.

"Don't call me that," I snapped, walking past him.  I made my way to the furthest possible seat away that I could find.  As I got my stuff out, ready for the first day of my last gen ed class, I shut my eyes briefly and thought about how nice it had been to finally be away from Michael for the past two and a half years.

Michael had turned high school into a never-ending competition for me.  We competed for class president during our sophomore, junior, and senior years.  I won sophomore year, he won junior and senior years.  We competed for band solos.  He got more than me.  We competed for the best lunch table (look, it was important at the time, okay?).  We competed to be captain of the co-ed intramural ultimate frisbee team.  He got it, and I ended up quitting.  It wasn't worth his gloating.  He lived right next door until my we moved at the end of my senior year, and we even competed to be my parents' favorite child.  I barely even won that one.

And now he was here.  I had no idea why, but I was pretty sure he was going to ruin my life.

I was so busy feeling sorry for myself that I didn't even pay attention.  Whatever, we were just going over the syllabus.  I'm pretty sure I can read that by myself later.  I went out the door closest to me, hoping to avoid Michael, but somehow he was waiting for me just outside the door.

"Not the warmest welcome I've ever gotten," he quipped, falling into step beside me.

"Oh my god!  Hi Michael!" I chirped in a falsely cheerful voice.  "How have you been?  Oh that's right, I forgot...I don't care."  I tried to walk faster, but he easily kept up.

"Wow, so you're not bitter or anything, huh?" he asked.  He was smiling, clearly enjoying this exchange.

I rolled my eyes.  "I'm not bitter, I just can't stand the sight of your face."

He laughed.  The sound made me want to claw my eardrums right out of my head.   "That's too bad, because your face is lovelier than ever, and I'm looking forward to seeing it every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday this semester." 

"That makes one of us," I sighed.  He kept smiling.  I wanted to punch him.

I suddenly realized we were standing outside my on-campus apartment building.  "Well, as nice as it was to catch up," he said, "this is me."

"Are you serious?!" I exclaimed. 

He grinned even wider.  "You too?" he asked, clearly gleeful.  I just glared and stalked ahead of him.

Once I had disappeared into the safety of my apartment, I breathed a sigh of relief.  "Everything okay?" asked my roommate, Kate.

"No, it couldn't possibly be worse," I moaned.  I plopped down on our university-issued couch and told her about Michael.

"Is he cute?" she asked when I finished.

I gasped.  "How can you even ask that?" I demanded.  "No!  Gross."

"I feel like you're being just a little dramatic," Kate said practically.  "It's not like there's much to compete for now, so maybe it will be different."

"I should have known you wouldn't understand," I whined.  "I'll go pout by myself."  Kate shrugged as I walked to my bedroom, making a quick stop in the kitchen for a Diet Coke.  Kate was really great but she was so logical, which wasn't always the best match for my dramatic personality.

I let myself pout for about an hour and then I felt like I was over it.  I came back out of my room, but Kate was gone.  She had left a note that said, "Class until 4, pizza later?"  Ordering pizza had been our Monday night tradition all through the year so far.  It was a great tradition.  I looked in the kitchen to see if we had any wine, and found one more bottle.  Perfect.

On Wednesday, I was running late.  As I slipped in the door two minutes after class started, I saw one of the only empty seats was right behind Michael.  The rest were in the front row, of course, and I wasn't going up there after class had already started.

Michael glanced back and grinned as I slid into the desk.  "Thought you skipped so you wouldn't have to be disgusted by my face," he teased in a whisper.  I glared and him and then looked towards the front of the room.  He turned back around as well.

I zoned out as the professor lectured.  Near the end of class, she announced that we'd be completing a group project over the next couple weeks.  I groaned.  I hated group projects.  She numbered us off.  Seriously?  We can't even pick our groups?  Why do professors do that?

"Find your group members and introduce yourselves.  You'll be working with them on various things throughout the whole semester, so make sure you exchange some contact information, then you may go," she announced, when we were done counting.

I was a 4.  I hadn't been paying attention to the people counting before me, so I looked around in confusion until I heard someone mention being a 4.  I walked over to her and introduced myself.  This numbering off was really confusing in a class this size.  I mean, it wasn't a huge lecture, but 45 people milling around trying to find their other group members was a little ridiculous. 

"Oooh, I hope he's in our group, he's hot," the other girl, whose name I had already forgotten, whispered.  I turned around and saw Michael headed our way.  Come on, give me a break.

"Fours, ladies?" he asked, winking at me.  The other girl giggled and nodded, and I wanted to puke.  Finally, our 4th group member found us.  Another giggly freshman.  Why did I wait so long to take this class? 

We all introduced ourselves, and the other two girls--Claire and Maya--giggled again when he shook their hands.  Ew.  "Okay, well see you next week!" I said cheerfully, turning to go.  Michael easily fell into step next to me, and I couldn't see a way to lose him since we were both headed to the same place.  I needed to shower before my next class, so I couldn't even go to the library or something instead.

When we parted ways, Michael smiled deviously at me and said, "This is going to be the best group project ever."
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I'm glad you guys are loving where Liv's story is going.  Thank you all so much for your comments and feedback.  I, of course, love to read the comments, and it's so awesome that you like things here enough to take the time to tell me so.  But, in addition to my very selfish love of the comments, they also help me continue to write posts that you guys love to read, which is my main goal.  I've added a "Reactions" feature to the end of the posts, so even if you don't want to comment, you can still give me a little feedback so I can keep writing posts that you want to read.  Thank you all so much for stopping by and reading!