I hand it to him with a smile and thank him for the thoughtful gesture. It’s pretty heavy, manageable but heavy.
It feels strange being back on campus; so much has changed and happened since I was last here. The cold wind whips against my skin, and Hardin pulls a beanie over his head before zipping his jacket up all the way. We rush through the parking lot and down the street. I should have brought a thicker jacket, and gloves, and even a hat for myself. Hardin was right when he said I shouldn’t wear the dress, but there is no way I am admitting that.
Hardin looks adorable with his hair hidden under the beanie, and his cheeks and nose are red from the cold. Only Hardin would look even more attractive in this harsh weather.
“There he is.” He points to Landon as we walk inside the coffee shop.
The familiarity of the small space calms my nerves, and I smile as soon as I see my closest friend sitting at a small table waiting for me.
Landon smiles when he spots us, and when we get near he greets us. “Good morning.”
“Morning,” I chirp back.
“I’ll get in line,” Hardin mumbles and heads to the counter.
I didn’t expect him to stay, or get my coffee, but I’m glad he does. We don’t have any classes together this semester, and I’ll miss seeing him since I’ve gotten used to seeing him all day.
“Ready for the new semester?” Landon asks when I take a seat across from him. The chair squeaks against the tile floor, drawing attention to us, and I smile apologetically before taking a good look at Landon.
He’s tried a new hairstyle, pushing his hair up off his forehead—and it looks really good on him. As I look around the coffee shop, I begin to realize I probably should’ve just worn jeans and a sweatshirt. I’m the only person in the place who’s remotely dressed up save for Landon in his light blue button-down shirt and khakis.
“Yes, and no,” I tell him, and he agrees.
“Same. How are things . . .”—he leans across the table to whisper—“you know, between you two?”
I look over and see Hardin has his back to us, but the barista’s face is in a deep scowl. She rolls her eyes as he hands her his debit card, and I wonder what he could have done to her to irritate her so much this early in the day.
“Good, actually. How are things with Dakota? It feels much longer than a week since we’ve seen each other.”
“Good, she’s preparing for New York.”
“That is so amazing, I’d love to go to New York.” I can’t imagine what the city is like.
“Me, too.” He smiles, and I want to tell him not to go, but I know that I can’t. “I haven’t made my mind up yet,” he says, answering my thoughts. “I want to go and be close to her—we’ve lived so far for so long. But I love WCU and don’t know if I want to be away from my mom and Ken to go to a huge city where I know absolutely no one, except her, of course.”
I nod, and try to be encouraging despite myself. “You would do amazing there—you could go to NYU and the two of you could get an apartment,” I say.
“Yeah, I just don’t know yet.”
“Know what?” Hardin interrupts, setting my coffee in front of me but not sitting down. “Never mind. I’ve got to go, my first class begins in five minutes on the opposite side of campus,” he says, and I cringe at the thought of running late on the first day of new classes.
“Okay, I’ll see you after yoga. It’s my last class,” I tell him, and he surprises me by leaning down and planting a kiss on my lips, then my forehead.
“I love you, be careful being bendy,” he says, and I get the feeling that if his cheeks weren’t red from the cold, they would be now; his eyes shift to the floor when he remembers Landon is sitting across from us. Public displays of affection are definitely not his thing.
“I will. I love you,” I tell him, and he gives Landon an uncomfortable head nod before walking toward the door.
“That was . . . weird.” Landon lifts his eyebrows and takes a drink of his coffee.
“Yeah, it was.” I laugh and rest my chin on my hand and sigh happily.
“We should get going to Religion,” Landon says, and I grab my bag from the floor and follow him outside.
Luckily we don’t have a long walk to our first class. I’m excited about World Religion. It should be very interesting and thought provoking, and having Landon there is an added bonus. When we enter the room, we aren’t the first students to arrive, but the front row is completely empty. Landon and I sit down in the front center and take our books out. It feels good to be back in my element—academics has always been my thing, and I love that Landon feels the same.
We wait patiently as the room fills with students, most of whom are obnoxiously loud. The compactness of the classroom doesn’t help with the noise, either.
At last, a tall man who looks too young to be a professor strides in and immediately launches into his lesson. “Good morning, everyone. As most of you know by now, my name is Professor Soto. This is World Religion; you may get bored a few times, and I can promise you that you’ll learn a heap of facts that you’ll never actually use in the real world—but hey, what is college for?” He smiles and everyone laughs.
Well, this is different.
“So let’s get started. There is no syllabus for this course. We will not be following a strict outline—that isn’t my style . . . but you’ll learn all that you need to know by the end date. Seventy-five percent of your grade will come from a journal that you’ll be required to keep. And I know you’re thinking: What does a journal have to do with religion? It doesn’t per se . . . but in a way it does. In order to study and really understand any form of spirituality, you have to be open to the idea of anything and everything. Keeping a journal will help with that, and some of the things I’ll have you write about will involve topics that people aren’t comfortable with, topics that are very controversial and uncomfortable for some. But all the same, I have high hopes that everyone will leave this class with an open mind and maybe a little knowledge.” He beams and unbuttons his jacket.