Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 27900 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 140(@200wpm)___ 112(@250wpm)___ 93(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27900 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 140(@200wpm)___ 112(@250wpm)___ 93(@300wpm)
Hell, I haven’t thought of a woman that way … until bumping into Amber. And as I watch her go, I can’t help but be filled with regret for letting her leave without any way of getting in touch with her again.
* * *
Amber
I wake up, my stomach a jumble of nerves, as I ready myself for my first college class in ten years. I dress in jeans and a pair of sandals, a silk sleeveless top with decorative roses completing the outfit. Drawing a deep breath, I eat my oatmeal and down much-needed caffeine before walking over to my backpack, where I recheck that I have everything I need.
Instead of the used laptop my mother could barely afford like I had the first time, I now pack the top-of-the-line laptop the guys in New York bought me and insisted I can’t return, along with a notebook because I am still a handwritten note taker at heart, pens … and courage. I need a big heap of that.
I spent the weekend unpacking the most necessary boxes and trying to start making this new house my home, beginning with pictures of L.J. and his dad, along with those of Landon, Tyler, and Jason holding L.J. as a baby. My mind often goes to the man with whom I shared a meal and the new feelings he inspired.
Those enlightening sensations in my body have me thinking that maybe Layla is right and I should use my time alone this summer to put my toe back into the dating pool. I don’t think I’m ready for the new world of online apps and swipe right or left, but a man I meet the old-fashioned way? While walking on campus?
I wished I’d had the courage to ask for Shane’s phone number. Maybe if I run into him again I’ll suggest we go for pizza. My treat this time.
As I am about to walk out the door, my phone chimes, indicating my FaceTime is trying to reach me. I pull the phone from my bag and answer, happy to see L.J.’s smiling face.
“Hi, Mom!”
“Hi, sweetie! How are you?” I ask, picking up my keys from the counter and swinging my pack over one shoulder.
“I’m good! I just wanted to wish you good luck. Grandma reminded me you had your first class today.”
I laugh as I step out into the heat of the summer morning and lock up behind me, keeping my eye on my son’s face. “What are you up to today?”
Glancing down the street, I follow the directions I looked up this morning, more certain I have the right way this time.
“We’re going to the Empire State Building!” He lets out a loud cheer, and I laugh.
Samuel calls for him from another room.
“Gotta go, Mom.”
“Bye, honey. Love you.”
“Love you, too!” He disconnects us, and the screen goes blank.
I rush along the path to my classroom, and as I come closer, I look around and am forced to accept the one thing I avoided thinking about while going through the enrollment process and making the choice to return to school. That I am significantly older than everyone around me.
Now, as I take in the girls in their cropped tops and tight denim shorts, frayed at the edges, I come face-to-face with reality. I am out of place and don’t belong here. Making friends will be nearly impossible. Swallowing over the lump in my throat, I push any negative thoughts aside. I am here to create a better life for myself and my son, not make friends my own age.
Today’s class is an intro to economics, something I need for the business minor I desire. Unfortunately I struggle with math classes and don’t expect even the most basic to be simple or easy.
I arrive at the classroom and walk inside the big lecture hall. Despite the fact that it is summer session, an intro class obviously pulls in a large number of students. I choose a seat in the middle, not too far up front but not in the way back, either. People fill up the seats around me.
Reaching into my backpack, I pull out my notebook and pen. I’ll take out my computer if I feel the need later on. I can sense the minute the professor walks into the room because a hush descends, and the chatter stops.
I open to a fresh page and glance at the front of the room just as the professor strides up to the podium, freezing at the sight of Shane standing in front of the classroom. I never looked at my professors’ names, knowing they won’t mean anything to me. And in the rush of moving in and unpacking, I hadn’t had time to pay attention to little details.
Hands on the podium, he clears his throat and begins to introduce himself. It never dawned on me that he might be a professor at the school, although it probably should have. To me, he was a hot guy I met on my walk to get dinner.