Chapter 3

I was going to be late for Professor Connor's class. Again. And this time it had nothing to do with my questionable sex life. I was waiting in line to pay for my muffin and coffee, to be a good boy and not go to class on an empty stomach but there were way too many people that had shared my brilliant idea this morning and it was taking forever to pay. That's what I got to try to be a good student. I should have just woken up in a stranger's bed and smoked a cigarette to quench the hunger.

I kept checking the time on my watch, my leg shaking impatiently.

And to make matter worse, suddenly there was a commotion at the beginning of the line.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" a voice I unfortunately recognized, yelled. I think there was an answer to that question and then "Are you going to pay for this? Seriously! The hell are you doing, picking up your filthy pennies?"

Alright. I was officially going to be late. Maybe kicked out of college too if I could hopefully punch someone. I got out of the line and towards the unicellular turd making a ruckus.

There he was, the quintessential trust fund douchebag with his Lacoste polo and his hair gel. "Bradley, my dear, can you shut your stupid mouth and let people pay their food and go on with their lives?"

I was expecting the smirk he gave me. Of course. That sack of crap always had a superiority complex around me. He started pre-med one year after me, but since he was older because he started college at eighteen like most people, he was always on my case, always trying to make me feel like I didn't belong, like I was worthless, like I could never match up to him. I didn't need anyone to tell me I didn't belong—I kinda always felt that way. But that loser could never make me fell like I was less than him, because when it came to medicine, I always outsmarted him.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't Nik the Tit." I didn't cringe at the nickname, when your last name was Titchen, you go used to it. I had heard worst. And he had never known my actual full first name so that was quite helpful. "How's life after dropping out of med school because your daddy died and he can't do your homework for you anymore?"

I shouldn't have been adding fuel to the flame but I couldn't help myself. "Bradley Sills, what a joy. How does it feel to be the cumshot your mother should have swallowed?" I turned around ignoring his reply because the lunch-cashier lady kept asking, "Miss? Miss? Miss? Are you going to pay for that now? Can you all just move?"

I sort of sucked in a breath when I realized that the girl that was causing the commotion along with Douche-Bag-Bradley was the Scarred-Mouse-Girl from my class. Her sweater was covered with coffee—the coffee Bradley had obviously spilled on her. She was holding on to an apple and the cheapest kind of juice you could get in here. Her eyes were filled with tears and she was shaking. How this girl managed to function in society still baffled me.

"I'll pay for everything," I told the lunch lady and threw a twenty at the counter. People in the line started to clap because they could finally start paying too.

"Come on, we'll be late for our class," I told the girl. She wasn't looking in my eyes. She was staring at her shoes, or well at the bottom of her ridiculously long skirt. And I think she was about to cry. From what I had seen of her so far, that was the best bet.

I wanted to guide her away by pushing her back or something, but I figured touching her might have her run away screaming, so instead I took the juice and apple from her hand, balancing my muffin and coffee in the other and repeated "come on," motioning with my head.

Bradley wasn't having this though. He grabbed my arm, not letting me leave. I almost dropped everything. If I had, he would have gotten a punch in the face, no questions. "Are you going to pay for my dry cleaning? Because that bitch girlfriend of yours ruined my polo."

If he could just be a somewhat normal human being and hear himself he'd be soooo ashamed. "Wow, and here I thought you couldn't be any more of a dick," I replied, bored.

"If you don't pay for my dry cleaning, I'm going to take you to court. You bumped into me, my father has the best lawyers, you're going down," he told the Scared-Mouse.

Please. The best lawyers? As if. "How about she takes you to court for covering her with your coffee?" I suggested instead.

"Can you afford that tramp?"

I threw my head back and groaned a little. "Jesus, you make me ashamed of being a human being. If she can't I will. Just run along you dick, I'm sure you have another test to cheat on and another professor to pay off or blow. But don't worry, you'll be an amazing chiropractor you pre..." I stopped myself. I was going to insult him, something that rhymed with drum rural duck but the Scared Mouse had obviously heard enough of my swearing for the day.

"Come on Minnie, we've got a class we'll be late for."

Luckily, even if she wasn't looking in my eyes, or really anywhere in my face area, she got the message and followed me, her eyes fixed in the ground, her hands clutching to the strap of her tattered messenger bag.

"Have fun flipping burgers," Bradley yelled after us. Seriously? That was the best he could come up with?

I turned around a smiling I yelled back. "Have fun pulling tricks for money, don't listen to what everyone else says, prostitution is a noble job."

I was pretty use he would have normally followed me and kept on insulted me, but his fan club had surrounded him and I was suddenly old news. Good riddance. A huge part of me was glad I had dropped out of med school so I wouldn't have to deal with that waste of oxygen. Every breath he took was good oxygen someone else could have used instead.

I looked forward and made my way to the class, Scared Mouse flanking my left side. We were about a six minute walk away from class and it was going to start in two. We would be late if we didn't pick up the pace but I didn't want to push the traumatised girl beside me and it felt like kind of a dick move to just hurry up and leave her behind.

Thing was, I wasn't sure what the protocol to follow was. What was I supposed to do? Should we make small talk? Should I carry her bridal style and say I would defend her honour against Bradley to comfort her?

I was comfortable around my friends, but around strangers I was awkward more often than not. Deep down I was still that little Nik who could only follow the shadow of his father, who had no clue what to do without him, who he was without him.

"Here," I said and handed her back her juice and apple.

She should have gotten water. That juice was like two gulps of artificial sugar. Even if it was cheap it was a waste of money.

Also, I realized her sweater was still covered with coffee.

"Oh, hey did you get burn? Do you want to change? I'm pretty sure I've got a shirt in my bag. It's clean don't worry..." I stopped talking because she was just shaking her head and I figured that was her way of saying "shut up asshole."

Instead, she just put her juice and apple in her bag and fished out a cardigan, putting it over her sweater.

Seriously? Was her goal to like sweat her weight?

I didn't voice my concern. I couldn't help but feel bad for the girl though. I wondered how she had managed to live her life so far without being completely trampled. Or maybe being completely trampled was what had made her this way.

We kept walking side by side. I actually had to speed up a bit because Scared Mouse picked up her pace.

And then out of nowhere to my utter surprised and in the smallest, softest voice, the girl beside me uttered, "my name's not Minnie." It was so soft that I barely heard it, but there was something to it, like it almost gave me a chill. I thought about my crazy friend Josh who was obsessed with voices. According to Blake, Tyler's brother in law and Josh's designated best friend, Josh had been with a couple of really ugly girls apparently just because they had nice voices. That's something I kind of understood. I liked voices too.

I shook the thoughts away and looked at her sideways. She was still staring at the ground. "I figured as much, it's just the first thing that popped in my head. I wasn't going to say follow me woman like some kind of caveman."

I wasn't entirely sure, but I thought I discerned the hint of the beginning of a smile at the corner of her mouth. I smiled for the both of us instead. For a second I wondered what she looked like smiling. I bet that didn't happen often.

It looked like she wanted to ask me why Minnie, but just telling me her name wasn't that had taken most of her courage.

I kind of wanted to ask for her name now, but I figured I might freak her out if I did. What was the point anyway? It wasn't like I was planning on spending any time with the girl. Instead we just kept walking.

When we were about ten feet from our class, she stopped walking and said, while staring at my chest, "here." She let a handful of change drop in my hand, mostly pennies and nickels. She was paying me back for the juice and the apple, I realized. "Thank you."

And just like that she bolted in the classroom, taking an empty seat beside a girl sleeping on her desk.

What a strange girl that Minnie Mouse.

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Hey guys! Sorry for not uploading last week. I was like insanely busy and never even got the time to open my computer. I'll upload another chapter in a few hours. Tomorrow tops. I just want to let people get around to read this one so then they don't skip over it once I upload another chapter. :)

Thanks for being patient and understanding. :)