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Literature

Class Crush

"You can sit here if you want," I say, shifting my backpack aside to make room. She looks around the packed lecture hall, desperation creasing the corners of her eyes. "Thanks," she says, her voice a little breathless from the sprint she'd made to get here. She slumps into the chair, her light blonde hair brushing the fabric of my shirt. Her name is Elena, and she's in a few of my classes. We're not exactly friends, but we're more than just faces in the crowd. She's always had a way of making the chaotic beginnings of a busy lecture feel a bit more bearable with a simple question about the weather or a shared grumble about the coffee machine being broken again. The professor clears his throat, and the murmur of chatter subsides. His eyes sweep the room, ensuring he has everyone's attention. "Alright, let's get started." Elena pulls out her laptop, her fingers dancing over the keys as she opens up her notes. I do the same, though I'm not as adept at multitasking as she is.