Attending class

I spent the weekend with Jamie, just hanging out. As the week started up again it was back to attending classes. Jess and I took the same Introduction to Women's Studies course, so most mornings we headed out together.

We arrived for Thursdays morning classes, and found our usual spot in the upper left in the auditorium. As we sat down next to each other Jessica started to prepare her notebook while I took a look around as people arrived and found their seats. As I did so, I suddenly remembered the remarks made by the beer spilling douchebag.

Although there was a clear majority of women in the room, I could see a few men as well. I smiled to myself, even his most believable claim turned out to be false. The room settled down as professor Cartwright entered.

After just half a semester of taking her course I already admired her quite a bit. Not only was she a full professor in her late thirties, which was rather impressive on its own, but she was a genuinely good educator as well. Concise and clear explanations, peppered with just the right amount of humor, made for an enjoyable learning experience.

As usual she was dressed in a long skirt, reaching her ankles, as well as a buttoned up shirt with a lace collar. Her ginger hair was held up in a tight bun, and perched on her nose was a pair of steel rim glasses.

The lecture started, and I focused on listening comprehension, while Jessica was hard at work taking her meticulous notes. We usually met up later to discuss the lesson. I got access to her notes, while I tried to explain my understanding of the subject from memory. While it may seem like Jess was getting the wrong end of the deal here, she claimed she got so focused on her note taking that she hardly remembered anything. In any case we both got something out of the arrangement.

Professor Cartwright got to the end of her discussion of intersectionality, ending the lesson, and people started heading out.

As long as our schedule allowed it, I usually met up with Jamie for lunch. He was waiting for me outside so I said goodbye to Jessica and we went ahead to our usual cafe. As we started eating his phone pinged and as he checked it he grimaced. I gave him an inquiring look.

"It's Tyler again," Jamie said as he looked up from the phone. "He found out what happened at the house party last time, and now he wants to make things right. He's talked to the guy who spilled beer on you. If we come to the party they're holding tomorrow night you have a apology waiting for you apparently."

I was about to refuse on instinct, when suddenly an image popped up in my head. It was the douchebag on his knees in front of me, begging for forgiveness. In my head he even had a tear running down his cheek. Completely ridiculous of course, in reality I was lucky if I could get as much as a hasty sorry before he ran back to partying, but the image stuck with me. Perhaps I should at least give him a chance to set things right?