99: Epilogue Part 3: The First Day of School

At last, Inho pulled into his university’s parking lot, running a little later than he’d hoped. More than once, when he’d tried to start getting ready back at the apartment, Stephen had dragged him back into bed and sat on him. The man was craftier than he looked. So, the drive to the small town of Abbotsford had been a careful balance between the desire to speed, and the excessive caution he felt driving Stephen’s ridiculously expensive car. When at last he parked, it was with a sigh of relief.

It wasn’t only the drive making him tense though. This was it– his first day of university.

Outside the car, he paused to settle his backpack on his shoulders, and patted himself down for his phone and keys. The parking lot looked like the rest of the city, dull grey and sort of industrial, with cement everywhere. It smelled vaguely of manure here. Stephen said there were a lot of farmers in Abbotsford– farms and churches… and gang violence. What an odd city, Inho mused, noting two guys in their early twenties leaning on an old Honda Civic a few spots away, smoking and laughing loudly. They gave Inho the stink-eye as he passed, then stared at the car he’d just left. He shrugged it off, hoping they didn’t try to key it or something.

It was a chilly April day, but he was sweating under his hoodie. What if he was the oldest person there? Would they be able to tell? What if he couldn’t keep up? Inho, who had barely graduated high school, who’d failed to get into any of the school’s he’d applied to back home, was feeling the familiar sting of inadequacy. What if everyone noticed he was stupid and judged him?

He patted the phone in his pocket, tempted to call Stephen for a pep talk before he went in. He didn’t though, instead he reminded himself that most people probably had a lot of fun in university. Stephen was still friends with some of his old classmates, years later. Inho wanted that too. What if everyone is already in cliques? He used his phone’s front facing camera to quickly fix his hair as he walked, and a message popped up just as he reached the door of his classroom.

Good luck on your first day. I love you as much as every drop of water in the ocean, can’t wait to see you tonight. Let’s play with the harness again, that was hot.

Inho paused, grinning, and his stomach flipped a little at the thought of what he’d been up to just a few hours ago. He typed a quick reply:

Thanks, love you too. Send Bulgogi pics.

You used to ask for nudes. :<

Inho laughed out loud, and the distraction was enough to soothe his nerves.

The calm only lasted for an instant though, as when he opened the door he was standing at the front of the class, right next to the instructor. Every face in the room swiveled to stare at him. Shit. he’d come in the wrong door, there was another entrance for students at the back of the room.

He turned to leave, but the instructor, a middle aged white man in a plaid button down, waved him in. “Don’t just stand there, go take a seat.” Inho turned back and moved jerkily towards the blank observers. “And don’t be late next time.” Inho flinched; he wasn’t even late, class didn’t officially start for another two minutes.

He skimmed for an open spot, The classroom was tiny and although only about 30 people occupied it, there were nearly no open seats. Luckily he spotted an empty one near the center and started for it. Before he reached it, he locked eyes with the occupant next to it, who was staring at him with burning intensity.

Fucking Connor, again?! he couldn’t escape this kid.

He was gonna sit there anyway, but before he could move, Connor nodded magnanimously, indicating he was allowed to take the seat. Inho clicked his tongue quietly but settled in regardless. When Connor leaned over and muttered to him in a conspiratorial tone, he almost felt comforted to have a familiar, if obnoxious, presence nearby.

“Are you stalking me, stalker?” Connor whispered.

“You’re stalking me,” Inho shot back, “How would I even know you’d be in this class?”

“I donno, maybe you have a weird fetish for my family, creepy, gross.”

“You are literally the most annoying person alive. Don’t worry, you’re not my type.”

Connor looked affronted. “Honey, I’m everyone’s type, don’t kid yourself. I–.”

“Shut up,” Inho interrupted. The instructor was going over the syllabus, and Inho didn’t want to miss anything. Connor started to retort, and Inho pinched his arm under the table, “Shut up, shut the fuck up. I want to listen to the teacher.”

Connor pouted an instant, then hissed back, “You’re annoying, you shut up,” before folding his arms and leaning back into his chair to stare straight ahead. For such a little shithead, he sure got hurt feelings easily. Inho reminded himself not to get taken in by teenaged drama.

The teacher was talking about the course projects now, and was gesturing at the front row. “Since you’re already seated in groups of two, I’ll pair you into teams of four and that will be your group for the semester.” The instructor directed, “The group project, plus your short essay and exam, will make up the entirety of your grade..”

What? They were being assigned a group project already. On the first day? That seemed crazy. Inho stiffened, oh god, that meant– Connor turned to him, and quirked an eyebrow at his confused expression, “Ugh. I guess we’re partners. Try not to fuck this up.”

Inho nodded, a stress headache starting behind his eyes. “Same to you,” he said and resigned himself to an almost certainly annoying fate.