She stood in the hallway pressed against the wall trying to avoid being run over by the crowd of students headed to class. It was the first day of the new semester, and Evelynn was determined to make this one different. After last year when she let Rush distract her from the social life on campus, she knew this year needed to be different. She was different. No more caring what other people thought of her. She’d spent far too long trying to be someone for everyone else, and it was time to quit. Evelynn knew that started now. An 8 AM class on the first day of a new semester. The number of people in the hallway was dwindling. She looked up at the clock: 7:58.
Evelynn inhaled deeply and closed her eyes. She could feel the people passing her by and hear the sounds of friends greeting each other after a long summer apart. She breathed out. It was time. She couldn’t stand in the hallway all day and never face the reality of the semester ahead of her. She had to move on. This would be good for her. Rush was in the past, and the Evelynn that cared about him needed to be too. She’d had all summer to move on, let go, and embrace the future, but as she returned to this classroom all the memories came flooding back in. 7:59.
She opened her eyes and stepped around the corner and in the door. The class was already full with only two chairs on the far side of the room still free. She weaved her way through the students until she reached the closest desk. She slipped her book bag off her shoulder, dropped it at the foot of the desk and slid into the uncomfortable plastic seat. There was no more denying the inevitable. She was here and would have to face this room, this memory, every day for the next semester. 8:00.
“Good morning, class.”
So it began. Evelynn looked around her. The other students were pulling out notebooks and pens to take notes during the lecture. She considered for a moment whether she should do the same, then chose not to. It was only the first day which meant nothing terribly interesting would be taking place. Every first class was exactly the same: greeting, attendance, class expectation for the semester and an overview of what’s to come. Unfortunately, because there was nothing to truly keep Evelynn’s mind occupied, she would have to do it herself. Rush. It was like a song stuck in her head playing on repeat. No matter what other song she listened to, or thought she dwelled on for a while, it always drifted back to the front of her mind.
Evelynn inhaled deeply and closed her eyes. She could feel the people passing her by and hear the sounds of friends greeting each other after a long summer apart. She breathed out. It was time. She couldn’t stand in the hallway all day and never face the reality of the semester ahead of her. She had to move on. This would be good for her. Rush was in the past, and the Evelynn that cared about him needed to be too. She’d had all summer to move on, let go, and embrace the future, but as she returned to this classroom all the memories came flooding back in. 7:59.
She opened her eyes and stepped around the corner and in the door. The class was already full with only two chairs on the far side of the room still free. She weaved her way through the students until she reached the closest desk. She slipped her book bag off her shoulder, dropped it at the foot of the desk and slid into the uncomfortable plastic seat. There was no more denying the inevitable. She was here and would have to face this room, this memory, every day for the next semester. 8:00.
“Good morning, class.”
So it began. Evelynn looked around her. The other students were pulling out notebooks and pens to take notes during the lecture. She considered for a moment whether she should do the same, then chose not to. It was only the first day which meant nothing terribly interesting would be taking place. Every first class was exactly the same: greeting, attendance, class expectation for the semester and an overview of what’s to come. Unfortunately, because there was nothing to truly keep Evelynn’s mind occupied, she would have to do it herself. Rush. It was like a song stuck in her head playing on repeat. No matter what other song she listened to, or thought she dwelled on for a while, it always drifted back to the front of her mind.
