Chapter 4: Class is in session

She looked desperately at her notes, panic beginning to set in. The next chapter was titled “Class is in Session.” She looked back at the computer, the old plan wasn’t going to work. It was too long. She didn’t have time to do the elaborate plot that she wanted. Opening to a new page of notes, she wrote at the top: T.T.O.M.J.M.T. plan: triple revised. After a minute of staring at the page she rubbed her eyes. A minute passed and she began to write down pieces of a new plot that would not only be doable but would also set up another book which, in turn, would make her publishers happy. She stood from her chair and stretched. She paced around the table twice before turning back to the computer. Madi then began to type as fast as her hands would allow her. The amount of typos that followed this spree were… egregious to say the least, but she didn’t care. Autocorrect would fix them later as it always did. Halfway through, her fingers began to hurt but she simply cracked her knuckles and powered through. She was determined to finish this chapter before she went to bed. Even if it took all night. 

School came as it always did. The cold wind of February greeted Jo as she stepped out of the house. Phil had taken the car as usual, leaving Jo with her turquoise bike and bubblegum pink helmet. As she rode, she remembered that she had a creative writing class to attend as well, adding yet another hour to her Monday schedule. Grumbling the rest of the way, Jo arrived at the university about fifteen minutes early for her first class. As was custom, she sat outside her accounting class reading her novel. This week’s selection was a little sci-fi novel called Starfall. Reading always helped to take her mind off of the issues in her life, it had since she was young. Ten minutes passed and the professor walked past her and unlocked the door. Like a river, the students flooded in behind him with Jo at the very back. Taking her seat in the middle of two strangers trying to have a conversation over her, the professor began to talk in his usual semi monotonous drone. Although she was sure the hour-long lecture about stocks was probably riveting, she instead spent the majority of the time after roll call, daydreaming. It was mostly about Clint which was no surprise to her. After all, it was practically all that she thought about these days. Phil might’ve had a cameo in the daydream somewhere between making out and going to a movie but, had he been there at all,  it was rather unmemorable. Like an overused gag in a sitcom. His whole presence was a rather bland shade of beige. More like physical white noise. No, that wasn’t right either.

“Class dismissed.” 

The phrase caught her by surprise causing her to jolt out of the land where anything was possible and into this, slightly disappointing, reality. Rushing out of the lecture hall, Jo swam through a sea of students in the hall as she worked towards the door. Once the sea broke before her, she was in the open air of campus. With practiced motions, Jo walked towards the liberal arts building for her next couple classes. French class was a bore. Finances followed shortly after. Phil was in that class as well. However she hardly spared him a glance and exchanged just a couple of customary words. She left that class excited. Not to study finances later, which no one ever was, but to see Clint just after lunch. 

Lunch came and went like anything else. Jo sat and ate upon a bench under a tree just outside one of the dorms. Over a salami and cheddar sandwich, she completed Starfall at a record pace and pulled a longer fantasy novel called Dark Earth out of her bag. Just as she was about to start on the first page of the prologue, Clint seemed to materialize just beside her. “Where’s your boyfriend?” 

She caught herself staring and quickly averted her eyes. “Oh- um…he has class right now-” 

Clint shrugged and sat down next to her. “I was just wondering if you wanted to walk to class with me. I know it's not very far but it would be nice.” 

As he smiled, she could feel herself begin to blush. Jo hid this by pretending she had an itch on her cheek. “I don’t know… let me think about it.” 

She looked away playfully. Clint laughed and grabbed her hand. “Come on, please?” 

She looked back at him and smiled. “Of course.” 

“Alright, class. Let's begin by talking about what we have been reading. A writer without reading is a worker without nourishment. Clint, would you mind starting us off?” 

Clint picked up the small paperback that was on the table in front of him and made his way to the front of the small classroom. For Jo, having such a small class after being in lecture halls the rest of the day felt almost claustrophobic, like she was being suffocated by creative talent. On top of this, everyone in the class was strange. Being around Business majors, when put up against English majors, was like comparing night and day. Like gray paint against vibrant oranges and blues. Which isn’t to say that she hated it. 

Clint reached the front of the class and brandished a book with a salmon pink cover titled: Story of a Fading Heartache. Jo couldn’t help but cringe at the title but still she listened to him describe it. 

“So, I actually just finished this one and it's about how life after high-school has been hard on this young woman named Millie. After existing for a bit she quickly finds that no problem could ever be greater for her than that of love. To abide with the ebbs and flows of this new feeling she has to work harder than any person has ever to make ends meet, even if her boyfriend is unwilling to help her. I think it's a really compelling story and hits you right in the heart.” 

After a moment Clint returned to his seat next to Jo. Something about that plot felt oddly familiar but she couldn’t quite place it. Perhaps she had seen a movie or read a book with a similar plot. It was a bit generic, afterall. She turned to Clint. “What did you say it was called again?”

He handed the book to her. “Story of a Fading Heartache. Did you want to read it? It doesn’t really seem like something you would like.” 

She accepted the book. Immediately she was met with the same strange feeling but so much stronger, it made her feel almost attached to it in the way that a rat may be attached to a glue trap. “Um…I’m not sure.” 

Clint released the book into her grasp “Definitely consider it. You can keep this copy, I got it for free. I won a raffle at the library for like ten romance books and they all feel kinda the same anyway. None of them are good, I mostly hate-read them. Kinda like enjoying something because it's bad, y’know?” 

Jo took the book and shoved it into her butterfly tote bag, deep enough that she couldn’t see it through the notebooks. “Are you doing anything tonight, Jo?”

Jo hasn’t come home. Phil sat on the bed staring at the wall closest to his side. She’s out with Clint, I just know it. She usually would have been home about an hour ago. 

Although it was only eight, Phil lay down and shut his eyes. He didn’t have work today and usually spent the evening with Jo doing the usual mundane things that he always enjoyed doing. Not because they were always the same but because he did them with her. Phil had assumed tonight would be the same. Instead, he is left to do the dishes alone, feed Emily alone, and talk about the day to the reflection of himself in the slightly dirty dresser mirror. He had never felt this lonely. For a moment his mind began to question the status of their relationship before it landed on a definitive answer: shattered. Falling back into the bed, he forced his eyes shut. It was nine and yet Jo had not yet made an appearance. Her usual bedtime is now. 

Despite wanting to just sleep, his mind was still racing. Rolling over, he moved to put his arm on the woman that was not there.  I can’t take this anymore. 

Pushing himself out of bed, Phil began to pace around the room. His internal rant was interrupted by the click of a lock and the creak of the hinges. 

“Jo?” He addressed the mysterious visitor beyond the bedroom door. 

“Hey, Phil.” He opened the door to see his girlfriend sitting in the arm chair on her phone. “What were you doing?” 

He sat on the floor beside the chair, leaning on the side. She hesitated before answering “Studying, how about you?” 

She continued to text a contact labeled ‘Cell Services’ about dinner as she spoke. Phil shrugged “Not too much. Just the usual.” 

Jo only nodded and continued to text. Phil knew he was being ignored, he never liked being ignored. “Hey, honey?” 

“Hmm?” 

He shifted to stand once more. “Is there anything you want to do?”

 She shook her head and looked up from her phone “No, I’m tired.” 

He took her hand. “How about we get you to bed then.” 

She didn’t resist his pull towards the bedroom. It was a habit that she had developed that, whenever she was stressed, devastated, or distracted, she would turn into a straight faced rag doll with her mind too far within itself to perceive outside forces. Tonight she was distracted. With Phil demanding attention and Clint wanting the same, she felt like she was getting lost in all of the strings. Phil led her to the bed and helped her to change. He was well aware of this habit and he could kind of figure out why but he didn’t want to say anything that would make it worse. As if this could get any worse.

As predicted, it did take the whole night. She looked out the window, the rising sun appearing slightly blurry in her red tired eyes. Nearly eight hours and all she had written were five pages. Something within her registered how embarrassing this truly was and that she should be ashamed. Elsa meowed in protest of her owner staying up so late. These sounds activated the other part of her brain which was playing a deflated tug of war with shame, telling her to just go to bed and pick it up in the morning. Madison gratefully lent her ears to the cat and shut the computer. The sleep that followed was very akin to sleeping with a hangover. A feeling Madison was rather familiar with and so it felt like coming home to an old friend who would offer her decaf coffee to soothe her mind. A small tear graced her cheek as she lay face down on the mattress and faded off to sleep.