Well, July is half over and I’m realizing school is right around the corner, even though I’m not ready for it yet. In between working on curriculum maps for my classes, I’ve managed to put some words on paper. I hope that the story will continue, but I’m not going to give a date because I don’t want to jinx it. However, I do want to make sure it’s on the right track, so please enjoy chapter 1 and tell me in the comments what you think…
Chapter 1 - Hannah
“Belle, I am not dating someone you found online,” I say with a sigh as I push her phone away and grab my psychology book. She has been hounding me about this for days, but I’ve been able to escape the conversation by hurrying off to work. Today, however, she caught me after work and before my class and she knows I have a little time to kill.
“But why not?” she asks in her southern drawl, her perfectly pink bottom lip pushed out in a perfected pout. “You’re the only one of us without a significant other and I know you don’t want to die alone.” She emphasizes the word die as she wiggles the phone in front of my face and I have to restrain myself from throwing her phone across the room.
I shove the book in my bag and take a deep breath before answering her. She means well. Belle doesn’t have a vindictive bone in her body which is why she makes such a good roommate, but she also has the annoying habit of thinking she knows best, especially when it comes to social media, style, and recently, relationships. “First of all, I’m not dying anytime soon, but thank you for rubbing in the fact that I am the lone roommate without a boyfriend. Second, not only do I have plenty of time to find someone, but I have to get ready for class.”
“At least look at them.” She holds the phone in front of my face again, and I roll my eyes but take the phone from her. Sometimes the best way to get Belle to leave you alone is just to indulge her request.
The guy on the screen isn’t terrible, but he’s definitely not my type. “Yeah, I don’t think so, Belle. He looks like he might drive a white van with no windows if you know what I mean.”
“What?” She grabs the phone back. “He does not and you have been watching too much Criminal Minds.”
I shrug and offer a small grin. She’s not wrong, and even though some of my favorite actors are no longer on the show, I still enjoy the psychology of it all. “Well, maybe I’ll go into profiling after I get my psychology degree.”
Belle grimaces and shakes her head. “Ew, no thank you. Looking at crime scenes and dead bodies all day does not sound like my cup of tea.” She slides her finger across the screen. “Okay, how about this one?”
I sigh and glance at the phone. “He’s better, but really, Belle, I’m okay. I can find a man on my own.”
“But you aren’t. You’re too busy with work and now your classes–”
“Speaking of classes,” I say, interrupting her, “I have to get to mine, so I appreciate your concern, but really, I’m good. And I’ve got to go.” I sling my bag over my shoulder and flash her a quick wave before booking it out of the apartment.
I do want a relationship, especially since all my other roommates have one. I never thought I’d be the last one to find a man and while it wasn’t a big deal at first, I’m now fairly certain they’ll be getting married and moving out soon, leaving me all alone in the apartment. But… I don’t want Belle picking a man for me. Don’t get me wrong. I love Belle, but our taste in… well, pretty much everything is not the same. Belle’s favorite color is bubblegum pink while mine is a deep purple. She wears frills and lace and I prefer jeans and tees. We’re not oil and water, but we’re definitely different.
A giant yawn escapes my lips as I press the button to unlock my car, and I glance at my watch. Almost six pm. Is it possible ‘The Java Bean’ is still open? It’s my favorite place to stop on my way to work, but I’ve never paid close attention to their hours before. I’ve got time to check though, so I point the car that direction.
There are still cars in the parking lot when I arrive which is a good sign, so I grab my purse and hurry inside. There’s only one other person sitting at a table on a computer in the small shop, but at least there’s someone behind the counter, which means they must still be open. His back is to me, but hopefully he’s just wiping the counter or restocking and not cleaning the machines. They do clean them every night, don’t they?
“Hi, are you still serving coffee?” I ask.
The man turns from whatever task he was doing, glances at his watch, and lifts an eyebrow. “Coffee at 6pm? Night shift or night owl?”
“Uh, a little of both I guess.” Not that it’s any of his business. “Evening classes. So, are you still serving?” I really want a coffee but I don’t have time to play games with this guy even if he is kinda cute.
He grins, causing a dimple to emerge in his cheek, and folds his arms across his chest. “You got five minutes. What’s your poison?”
“White chocolate cherry mocha with skim milk.”
“Ah, a specific but not overly complicated order, so you’re not a med student.” He grabs a cup and squirts the cherry liquid in.
“I’m sorry. You think I’m not a med student because of my order?”
He quirks an eyebrow and there’s a teasing twinkle in his brown eyes. “Well, are you?”
“No, but that’s entirely beside the point. You can’t determine someone’s major by their drink order.”
He shrugs and flashes me a smile. “Actually you can, and I don’t like to brag but I’m pretty good at it. You see most med students are so sleep deprived that they just want black coffee. A small few want a little room for creamer.”
“I see, and I’m sure your ability to pick them out has nothing to do with the giant medical books they carry around or the dark circles under their eyes from late night study sessions.” His coffee order theory does make sense but there are many other ways to tell med students apart from other majors. Anyone who watches human behavior could pick up on that.
“Ah, a skeptic I see. Well, how about the fact that those who order super complicated drinks are generally art history or theater majors?” He pours the steamed milk into the cup and then stirs it.
I chuckle and shake my head. “An art history major isn’t good for much beyond teaching so they probably order complicated drinks to assert some power and theater majors? Most of them crave the spotlight and a complicated drink order is just another way to have the spotlight on them.”
“Is it?” he asks, his voice filled with mirth.
I fold my arms across my chest. “Okay, so what is my major then?”
He cocks his head as he regards me and then picks up a Sharpie and scribbles something on the cup before he hands it to me.
I scan the words and my eyes widen at what he’s written - Pavlov would be proud. Not only has he gotten my major correct, but he knows enough about psychology to know who Pavlov was. “How did you know?”
He shrugs again. “I can’t reveal all my secrets the first night or there’s no need for you to come back.”
“Who said I’d come back anyway?” I ask, though I’m flattered that he appears to be flirting with me. He’s certainly handsome with his slightly shaggy hair and brown eyes.
“Just have a feeling. You better hurry or you’ll be late for that class. I hear Dr. Ryan is a stickler for time.”
Shoot. I left enough time to get coffee but I did not leave time for flirting and I’m going to have to book it to get to campus on time. I lift my cup in a “thank you” type gesture and head back to my car. As I slide into the driver’s seat, I realize he said my instructor’s name. How does he know Dr. Ryan? Was he a former student? I suppose it’s possible another psych major has mentioned him, but still I have questions and I didn’t even get the coffee guy’s name. I have no idea if he’s new or temporary or if I’ve just never seen him because I don’t usually get coffee this late. Whichever it is, I definitely see more coffee stops in my future.
Unfortunately what I don’t see as I pull into the psychology lot is an open parking spot. Great, coffee shop guy has made me arrive later than normal and now all the spots are gone. I check my watch. Five minutes. I’m going to have to hope something is open in the next lot and that I can make it in time.
Luck is with me as I see an open spot at the very end of the lot. I pull into it before another late arrival can steal it away and then I grab my bag and my coffee and I book it for the building.
“What took you so long?” my friend JJ asks as I slide into my chair in the lecture hall.
A bead of sweat rolls down the middle of my back and I shift against the chair in an effort to wipe it away. Dr. Ryan does not like tardiness and he locks the door right at the beginning of class, so I was forced to sprint to the building in order to make it on time. My personal trainer roommate Charlie would be proud, but all I can think about is how gross I’m going to feel for the next two hours, especially since it’s warm outside and the school doesn’t seem to know what an air conditioner is.
I hold up my coffee cup. “I stopped for a pick-me-up and it took a little longer than anticipated.
Her face wrinkles in confusion but before she can say anything more, Dr. Ryan enters the room. As always he commands attention but whether it’s because of his graying hair and years of experience or the fact that he holds all of our grades, and therefore our futures, in his hands is the question.
“Good, you all seemed to make it on time tonight, even if a few of you scurried in at the last second.” Though he can’t just be talking about me, I feel his eyes lock with mine and I want to melt into the seat. In some classes being noticed by the professor wouldn’t be that big of a deal, but with Dr. Ryan it’s better if he never actually knows your name or your face. And I may have just ruined that. Or coffee guy did anyway. If he hadn’t been flirting with me, I wouldn’t have been late and I wouldn’t have had to park in the boonies and run to class.
“I hope your coffee was worth it,” JJ whispers to me when Dr. Ryan’s gaze moves on. I’d like to say it was, but I have a feeling it wasn’t.
“Today, we’re going to talk about your thesis. This will be the final paper you will present and defend in order to pass this class.”
Okay maybe the coffee was worth it. I have a feeling this is about to be the most boring lecture yet.
I’d love to hear your thoughts on the start of Hannah’s story and fingers crossed, this means my creative juices are flowing once again.
Happy Sunday, I have to jump back into Psychology now to get that map finished, but enjoy the promos below and be sure to check out my store for any books you’ve missed.
Have a blessed week,
Lorana
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Good start