Layla sighed, "Marisha, were you not supposed to focus on classes, and at least wait a week before dating?"
Marisha laughed, "Wait with dating, absolutely not. Remember, I am here to have fun as well."
Layla shook her head, "You do you, I suppose."
"Oh, don't judge me," Marisha teased, "I know who I am." Marisha laughed.
"I am sorry," Layla quickly said and stood up to greet them properly. "We met, but I don't think we were introduced," she turned towards Ryan. "I am Layla," she said, trying to forget how rude he had been the evening before. If Marisha liked him, there would have to be some redeeming qualities in him. Though in Layla's opinion, Marisha did not always have the best judgment of character when it came to men.
"Ryan," he said, nodding his head and grinning a little, "sorry to steal your friend away from you."
"Oh, I cannot be stolen," Marisha said, "besides, Layla will still have me home in our dorm every evening."
"Every evening?" Layla and Ryan said in unison.
Marisha laughed, "Look, you two are already on the same page.
Ryan and Layla glanced at each other, each blaming the other for their synchronisation.
"I intend to be friendly towards him," Layla said to Marisha, "but don't expect too much of him." She leaned in towards Marisha's ear to whisper, "I cannot get to know every boy you date."
Marisha took it in good spirit, "Alright, alright," she laughed, "anyway, we hear James is making pizza for dinner – he invited us as well."
"Wonderful," Layla sighed. Her evening was lining up to be more awkward than she had first intended.
***
POV: James
James was running around campus. He had just texted Layla that he would not be able to make it. He had excused himself with his class running late. But that had been a lie, and he had felt a little bad about bailing on his good friend slash ex-girlfriend. Yet his stomach was beginning to fill with butterflies, and he could not regret his decision. Maybe, if things went well, he would tell her about it at dinner.
***
POV: Layla
Layla ran to her next class, and suddenly she was late, a thing she had never imagined she would be. Her bag flew behind her as she ran, her high-heeled boots clicked against the brick flooring, but she reached the class a whole fifteen minutes before it started anyway.
This was an entirely different class than Professor Elijah Johnson's had been, she realised as she looked around. Whereas the other class had had an approximately fifty-fifty split in gender, this class was mostly attended by women. The professor was female as well. Layla relaxed as she sat down. She had always found female professors to be calmer in their approach, though she tried not to judge before knowing everything. It could, after all, have been a coincidence with her previous experiences.
Halfway through the class, she considered her preconceived notion to be confirmed. The professor had a relaxed walkthrough of her expectations and asked about their expectations as well. Groups were assigned for class-work but work outside the class we could decide ourselves. She gave all a wide smile as she ended her class with an optimistic encouragement, and she said, "I expect great things from you all," she said as she looked around. Layla felt her heart bubble up with joy and was just about ready to go up and thank the teacher when she was interrupted on her way.
"Excuse me, are you there?"
Layla turned around to see a… no, she must not think mean, derogatory things, she reminded herself. She saw a woman about the same age as herself with tassels in her hair, which Layla would not think anything mean about.
"Yes," she said with a smile, "can I help you?"
"I want those," the woman said and pointed at Layla's boots. "They look magnificent."
Layla blinked a couple of times. "Oh, ehm, thank you." She paused, "I am sorry, I don't remember where I bought them."
"Well, what would it cost me to buy them?"
"From me?" Layla asked, confused, which was an understatement of what she felt.
"Yes, idiot." The woman rolled her eyes and took out her wallet.
"Sorry, they are not for sale," Layla said, "they are my favourites." She began to pick up her things and pack her bag.
The woman sighed, "Everything is for sale, darling – name your price, and I will give it to you."
"We might not even be the same size," Layla continued arguing, getting slightly annoyed now, "excuse me, I have to be somewhere else."
"Me too," the woman said, blocking the way for Layla and looking down at her feet, "trust me, we are the same size. I think I can fit your clothes as well," she said, taking another look at the rest of Layla – she had mainly been looking at her feet before.
"Wow," Layla said, afraid that the woman would begin to offer to buy the clothes off her back.
"How about a couple thousand?"
"A couple?" Layla asked in amazement.
"Alright," the woman said, "I will give you five."
Layla began to take off her shoes, "money first," she said, slowly handing over her shoes.
The woman handed over the money, and Layla handed over her shoes. She could not believe she had just made five thousand just by exchanging her shoes. If she remembered correctly, they had not cost her more than two hundred.
In amazement, Layla counted the money and watched a woman walk away with her shoes.
***
POV: Professor Elijah Johnson
Professor Elijah Johnson leaned back in his chair in his office. Behind him stood shelves stacked with books and assignments he had lined up for the semester. On his desk was a picture of a beautiful woman. He closed his eyes and thought about the features of the young woman in his class that day. They had seemed so well known to him, but she was not familiar, just so similar to the picture on his desk. He held back the tears before gathering himself and went back to work.