Caroline:

The universe must be messing with me, it wanted me to be miserable for the semester. I had to work with Cameron. Again. I didn't understand. I kept rereading the notification over and over, staring at the screen, not scrolling anywhere else. I tapped on it when the screen went dim. This was a joke, it had to be. The administration must have heard what happened in high school and thought it would be funny to put us together again for punishment. It made me want to pull my hair out. I tugged on a few strands and released them. Two weeks of avoidance and he has to be in my face for the rest of the semester. I almost sent an email to Professor Davidson to work alone, but it was mandatory. A three part project, two partners. I sighed and tore my eyes away from my screen to massage my eyelids. I put my number on the email. I was prompt. I refused to be the type of person to delay anything. I breathed in deeply, nipping at the cracked skin of my lips, placed a checkmark on my excel sheet on my submitted assignments and waited for him to text first. I refused to text first. A notification came two minutes later, from him.

Caroline, its Cameron.

I shook my head and replied back: yeah, duh.

I winced, shutting my eyes tight. Even texting him grinded my gears. I should try to be civil. I'm not face to face with him and already I'm annoyed. The bubbles popped up, I hitched a breath waiting for his reply. It disappeared. My phone was ringing. It's him. Oh, God, here we go. I answered, not speaking first. "So I assume you don't want to work together," were the first words he said.

"You assume correctly," I said.

"Look, we have to work together, ok. This isn't high school. If we fail, we repeat the course. I know you don't want that."

"Don't patronize me, Cameron, I know how the university curriculum grading goes. When do you want to meet up?" I had to be straight forward, the sound of his voice set me off. I had to keep my cool. Was there a way for me to pick someone else before I lose my mind?

"Library. Do you have plans later on?"

"No."

"In 2 hours, meet me there."

"Good."

"Good." I hung up. I wanted to strangle him. So much. It's not healthy despising a person this much. I had to see his face over and over again for the next four years, in case one of us transfers. That's not gonna happen. I rubbed the temples on the side of my head and groaned. My notification rang again, oh god, what did he want to say now?
It wasn't from Cameron, it was from Dylan. I haven't texted him back. He sent a simple hey.

I replied back with a hey.

How r your classes?- Dylan

Good- me.

It wasn't a love connection or anything between us. Dylan was the type that didn't seem clingy or rude. He could hold a conversation through sms texting. I haven't seen him around campus, I hoped he wasn't a townie, maybe he went to another school and was visiting for the weekend.

I took a shot in the dark and asked how classes are for him.

Most of my classes are boring, i have do this lame lab that's only 1 credit but its required- Dylan

Oh wow, hopefully you'll find something to make it unboring- me.

Are you free this weekend?- Dylan. I was about to say yeah, then I remembered I have to meet Cameron.

No, I have to study- me

Oh yeah, same - Dylan

Well ill be around the frat house if you want to hang out- Dylan

Oh. ok- me. So he was part of the frat.

Ok, see ya- Dylan.

Yeah, see ya- me. I dropped my phone next to my bed. Crossing my arms over my face and letting out a long sigh.

"Ok, you got this. You are here for a reason. You are strong. You are excellent. You are intelligent," I assured as affirmation, muffled into my arms. I should get more ibuprofen. And peppermint tea. I could stop at the student store. Michelle came in, a huge smile on her face and said "hey."

"Hey," I answered, releasing my arms from my face.

"What's wrong?" She frowned.

"Just my course load. I gotta go to the library in an hour." I massaged my temples. I wasn't lying, it's been two weeks of homework and quizzes. I'm exhausted, I'm impressed by the time management I created, I was ahead of my assignments as scheduled. I reread my syllabuses, memorizing the dates. As long as he cooperated, we would be ok. I stood up, getting a pair of shoes and a sweater. I might stop by the cafe for a chai latte.

"What's really wrong?" She asked with a squint.

"Cameron," I rolled my eyes and huffed.

"Again." She shook her head. So I may have complained about him a few times when we crossed paths. Most of the time, I didn't talk about him. I assumed my system if I didn't say his name he wouldn't be around me. Because he pledged at the same frat with Daniel and dating Michelle, I'm gonna see him more often. "You two were something else at the party two weeks ago."
"He started it." I frowned.

"What about him now?"

"We have to work together for a nutrition project."

"And that's bad?"

"It's the worst thing ever, we can't cooperate. We don't see eye to eye."

"What's up with you and him?"

"He thinks he's God's gift to the educational system. He's intelligent, he is. But he's not the only one. And he's the type to hover over you, like oh if I do one miniscule thing, it's I'm doing it all wrong and want to take over to do everything. He's so annoying."

"So, he's like the Brain from Arthur."

"Yes! Exactly." She understood, referencing a beloved PBS kid's show.

"Wow, that could be annoying. But you shouldn't let him get to you. He's just a boy, and it's just an assignment. You need to pass, right?" she questioned.

"Yeah, and he shouldn't derail me from it."

"Exactly. The best thing you can do is ignore any of his statements towards you."

"Yeah, you're right." I took out my laptop, dropping it into my backpack carefully. I let out an exasperated sigh. I should take a nap, I had to recharge. I laid back on the bed in a fetal position. "He can wait. I'm gonna take a nap." I set a timer for 30 minutes and shut my eyes.

***

Thirty minutes later, I strolled to the library, chai latte in hand while I sipped. My nap was restless, I didn't want to be late if I slept any longer, he wouldn't shut up about it for the entire time that I was late. My latte was so good, I savored each sip as I walked. The steam made my glasses fog. The perfect blend of vanilla and brown sugar awakened my senses. It made me feel brand new. I pushed the double doors open, the air conditioner blew in my face. The quiet atmosphere brought me in a calm sense. It was my favorite place. If I was alone, I would stick myself in the isolation table with a booth. I nodded in greeting to the young girl with braids at the desk, she looked up and smiled, going back to her book, but her head snapped when she saw my Styrofoam cup. "Oh, no open beverages in the library," her soft voice said.

"Oh." I just bought this, it's still hot. I nodded. I drank it, sip by sip, the liquid burned the roof of my mouth and tongue. It was too good of it to go to waste. I let out a little groan from the pain, and dropped it in the trash. She gave a little smile and went back to her book. At least it was a pick me up to keep me energized.

I spotted him pulling out the seat and sitting across from it. The black sweater he wore had the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, black, beanie hat. I noticed a small burn on his arm I picked at my bottom lip with my teeth. If he didn't try to distract me, he wouldn't have been burnt in the first place. He looked exhausted, his eyes were hooded, trying to stay awake blinking rapidly. Well, let's get this over with. I walked past the computer station, dodging someone that was about to sit on the empty seat of the station. I made it to the brown table, standing in front of it. His hair was pillow messy, taking off his hat and raking it back with his fingers, fidgeting with his black framed glasses and opening his laptop. The funny thing was, Cameron was my type of guy, someone I would moon over every time he was around. But his personality was trash. Instead of announcing myself I sat across from him. He lifted his head up, noticed me and then went back to typing on his laptop. There was no point of the niceties, I took out my own laptop and powered it on. "Caroline, right on time," he said, sounding like a robot.

"Always." I cleared my throat, pulling up my syllabus. "I was rereading the syllabus and it breaks it down like the scientific-

"We should start collecting the food measurements." He cut me off. I frowned. That didn't take long.

"Um, I was talking," I told him.

"I know, and I suggest measurements," he answered. There it was: him interrupting me again. Just like old times. I bit my tongue, trying to be civil.

"But that's the last part. We should start at the beginning. We don't know our serving portions."

"But it's better this way."

"So we're working backwards?"

"Yes."

"How can we work backwards if we haven't started our food diary?"

"This is better."

"You can't justify which one is better, we should work together." That idea sucked, I shot him a grin to avoid an argument to seem reasonable.

"We are working together and I suggest this." He slammed his hand on the book firmly. He's a dictator, spoke like one and gestured like one. I refused to bend to a dictator.

"Why don't we start slow and look up the RDI and then collect the measurements?"

"That wouldn't make sense."

"How-" I cleared my throat, trying not to raise my pulse, I breathed and shut my eyes.

"I haven't eaten breakfast, I'm hungry. I did drink a latte, I wrote it in my food diary. We should work on that." I gave my sweet voice as I opened a Microsoft word blank doc, he shot me a blank stare with his mouth in a straight line. His green eyes gave me nothing. "What?"

"I know when you're being sarcastic, you do that high voice trying to sound nice."

"I don't do that," I frowned.

"You do. You get this tone where you act like you care and want to listen." I didn't do that? Did I? "Whatever. Make sure you don't grub for a better grade."

"Excuse me?" I frowned.

"Seriously? That time in high school, the chemistry project, you got an A, but you believed you deserved an A+."

"Because I did the extra credit and did what was instructed. I followed the formula."

"Everyone followed the formula."

"But I did the extra credit. The teacher knew and gave me an A."

"Grade grubber." He snorted.

"I don't do that anymore." Yes, I admitted I tend to go to the teachers to change my grade. But for a good reason. Why should I suffer from a low grade when I did everything I was told?
"Let's not get into this. Let's focus on the project," I held my hands up, exhaling from my nose; "What do you usually eat for breakfast?" I gave him my undivided attention, lowering the register of my voice. "Do you eat the same thing everyday?"

"Yeah. A bagel with cream cheese and multigrain cereal," he said.

"Huh."

"What?"

"That sounds like you: plain, anal."

"What is your breakfast?"

"Either a muffin with honey nut cheerios or a fruit parfait," I told him.

"That's so much sugar. That could add up everyday."

"So? I have it with granola on top." I shrugged. "And it's good sugar."

"Professor Davidson did say we had to make sure it followed the week. Plus the analysis essay of reflection."

"I did read the syllabus too, dude. I know what we have to do. Let's try something else. The syllabus does mention if we have any activity levels during the week."

"I go to the gym every morning."

"You do?" I raised an eyebrow, looking below at his legs. He wrinkled his eyebrows.

"Believe it or not, I do."

I sat up in shock, "wow, Cameron. You must be so strong. How much do you bench?" I asked, fluttering my eyelashes. I had no idea he went to the gym every morning.

"20," he said in a blank tone.

"Wow, amazing." He did have broad shoulders, I assumed it was from his soccer background.

"Ok, sarcastic. Do you work out?" He leaned forward in the same position, not breaking eye contact.

"I do yoga, and sit ups in the morning," I told him. The sit ups kept my brain and heart moving at a regular rate, "plus 10 minute meditation."

"Fascinating." I rolled my eyes from the bored tone in his voice.

We worked for the next hour. The hushed tones we had to keep made my voice hoarse, my voice tended to hitch and I got sshs' from some students. I sighed. What a waste of time.

"Ok, obviously we got nowhere. Let's try again next week." I gathered my things, tossing each item in my backpack.

"Why not tomorrow?" He asked.

"I'm busy, I have other class assignments. We can create a schedule around our classes."

"Fine," he said, with no clapback.

"An agreement. There is a god." I rejoiced, lifting my hands up in the air.

"Shut up." I laughed as I gathered my things.

"We can do 2 hours on Thursdays after our classes. Would that be ok, or will it damper any of your plans?"

"No, Thursdays are good. I got soccer practice on Fridays, pledge duties for the rest of the week," he told me.

"Ok, I will pencil it in." I pulled out my planner app and physical planner, scheduling our session time. "Do we meet here?"

"We'll alternate. Here for one week, then my room the week after and then your room the week after that." An agreement, we came to an agreement. It could be a good side, or inevitable doom.

"Next week Caroline." He stood up and stretched his arms over his head.

"Next week Cameron." I saluted. He took his things, looked at his phone and left. I stayed standing, watching him walk away. He's so annoying.