About

William Shakespeare once said, “Better three hours too soon than a minute too late.” Now, I don’t know if the man had anxiety, or simply terrible time management, but today… I understand him. Which is exactly why I’m standing outside my classroom a full hour before it’s scheduled to start. By myself. Like an overachieving golden retriever that arrived before the owner even unlocked the gate for the dog park. Apparently, classrooms stay locked until the professor gets here. Makes perfect sense. Unfortunately, that leaves me with exactly three options: stand here and stare at the beige walls, awkwardly pace the hallway, or pretend to be deeply invested in whatever life-changing information is hiding on the bulletin board that’s been updated approximately never. I choose the bulletin board. Five painfully slow minutes later, the sound of approaching footsteps echoes down the hallway. I glance up. Oh. Well… That’s just unfair. Tall, like 6’2” if I had to guess. Black hair that’s artfully messy instead of I forgot to brush it messy. Dark clothes. Hands tucked casually into his pockets. The kind of face that belongs on the cover of a ridiculously overpriced romance novel— Not wandering the halls of a university before eight in the morning. He stops beside me, glances at the locked door, then lets out a quiet sigh. “…Looks like we’re both early.”