The Classroom

Jack noticed Patrice because of her skin. The first time he saw her was in freshman English where they were in college. He was already seated when she slid into the desk next to his. She stared straight ahead. It was an unseasonable warm fall day, and most of the students looked hot and crumpled. Not Patrice. She looked like one of those girls who never sweat. She was dressed in a fitted skirt and t-shirt. Her brown hair was held at the nape of her neck with some sort of clip. She crossed her slim calves it at the ankles. He noticed her sandles were flat. She looked more like a young housewife from Conneticut than a college student. Her lashes were long, her nose was nothing special, her lips looked nice, but he could not take his eyes off the creaminess of her cheeks. It looked like she wore no makeup. He wanted to reach out and run the back of his finger down her face.

She opened her book bag and took out a notebook - not the kind you get at the drug store for 79 cents, but the kind you get at specialty stationary stores for $6.50. She rummaged through her bag and and couldn’t seem to find what she was looking for. She turned and looked at him. He stared, speechless. The amazing skin on her cheeks covered her entire face. He started at her chin and slowly worked his way up until he met her eyes, which were blue and looking a bit puzzled.

All of a sudden his eyes came into focus and he realized she was talking to him. “What?” he said.

“Do you have an extra pen? I don’t seem to have one.”

“Uh, I think so.” He’d better have one. He rummaged through his pack and found a black pen with the tip chewed flat. He looked back at her, with his brows raised, sheepishly. “This ok?”

She smiled and her eyes twinkled. “That all you got?”

“Uh. Yeah,” he stammered, feeling unsure of himself all of a sudden.

“Yes. That will do.” She extended her long arm across the aisle and took the pen from his hands. “Thank you.” Her fingers brushed his. She turned and faced the board and he was left staring at her cheek, once again. It was as if the exchange never happened.

“My name is Jack,” he said.

She did not turn.

My name is Jack,” he said a bit louder.

The guy in front of her turned around and said, “Hey. I’m Mark. Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you,” Jack said as Mark turned back to the front of the class. Geez, he thought. Now she is going to think I’m gay!

“My name is Patrice.” She was smiling at him as she extended her arm toward him again, reaching for his hand. He stretched his arm across the aisle and her palm slid into his. Just as he suspected, it was cool to the touch and her grip was firm, but not too hard.

“My name is Jack,” he said again lamely.

At that moment their professor walked in. The class, now full, fell silent. The professor looked at every one and said, “I am Professor Jarrett and the first thing I am going to do is test you on your grammar.”

He reached into his satchel and pulled out a stack of papers and began to count out the tests at the top of every row, leaving a stack of them at the first desk in every aisle. “Pass these down,” he nodded curtly to the student sitting there. Jack watched as Patrice took her test and turned to give it to the student behind her. Her body swivled at her waist, and then she was facing forward again. The pen he had given her was lodged in her mouth and she was chewing the tip.

“Tastes pretty good, huh?” Jack whispered out of the corner of his mouth.

“Ew! Gross! I didn’t realize I was chewing on it,” she whispered back and took it out of her mouth.

“Gross?” Once again he was unsure of himself.

“Just kidding,” she whispered and stuck the pen back in her mouth. “Tastes like chocolate.” She swirled her tongue around the tip of the pen. From that point on, he was hooked.