Class Notes

The professor droned on.

John sat in front of me, doodling, and one row over, Eileen knit under her desk. Ahmed passed me a note.

There’s a new organic Moroccan restaurant. Want to try it?

My father would kill me.

Sunday? Meet you?

Hi, Dad, guess who I brought home?

Nah, you’d get lost. 😉  I’ll pick you up.

Wish you would.

Then you’ll find me. 🙂

Man, I got so turned around that first day on the giant campus, but Ahmed walked me to all my classes. Still did sometimes.

“Miss Cohen,” the professor’s voice pierced my reverie, “are you listening?”

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