Chapter Two: Syllabus
Dr. Marks’ eyes flit to the door of the room. We all try to resist looking but we can't. His face tells us he doesn't expect us to.
College students are nosy. We just happen to call it inquisitive. A thin girl in a dress, it's gingham like Dorothy’s, stands in the doorway, listening. She has bubble-gum pink hair like the Bubble Yum Gabriel offers me. I take it as Dr. Marks speaks, “Can I help you?”
His voice is patient--I didn't expect that.
“I’m Dana, I think this is my class.” Her voice is very high. She’s incredibly nervous.
Recognition spreads across Dr.Marks’ face, “Ms. Freemont, I understand you’re a freshman. I do not teach freshmen until January. However I'm sure Mr. Boakye can help you figure out where you belong. This is a senior seminar.”
I pop the gum into my mouth as Charles, a Ghanaian point guard on the basketball team, rises from his seat. He glances at Dr. Marks, who nods so Charles walks up to Dana who shrinks back. Charles is 5’11, so he comes off as intimidating more often than he'd like off the court.
He leaves the room and she follows slowly.
Dr. Marks goes to the desk and opens a manila file. The tab where names are usually written says Amor 425. He flips through the papers slowly, pausing to read every few seconds and tsking at certain things in the file. He’s stalling for time,so to kill some I turn to Gabriel who’s writing an email.
“What’s your major?”
“Math with a concentration in actuarial science. I'm waiting to hear from a place, actually,” he manages a small smile as he hits send.
“That’s risk, right?” I clarify.
He nods, “What about you?”
“Business. I'm trying to get a position with the Hollins Corporation.”
“They have amazing benefits,” he smirks. “Paid leave for any reason kicks in immediately after probation. Good choice, Dye.”
In my peripheral vision I can make out a familiar name on the Gmail screen, Violet Meyers. She’s the COO of SweetMax, one of the biggest, not to mention oldest, advertising agencies on the east coast.
“I've got to hand it to you, Shaw. You know how to pick them yourself,” I suppress a laugh as he blushes a little.
“Don't tell,” he whispers as Charles returns. “It's probably a long shot. They don't usually take bachelor’s degrees.”
“They might like you.”
Dr. Marks walks to the first row with a stack of yellow envelopes. He reads the corner and puts one in front of each student. When he's done, he goes back to the desk,and leans against it.
“Please open the envelopes. Refrain from excessive screaming, ladies and gentlemen.”
I roll my eyes as I open the envelope. No syllabus class is that exciting.
I touch a piece of cardstock and pull it out first. The top of it contains the letterhead of the Hollins Corporation. My name is above the words, We’re pleased to welcome you to the family.
I scan it seeing two dates, one of which is next Monday and the other is a few days before graduation. I jot them in my planner and read the cardstock again in more detail. Again, I zero in on some unusual things. Besides the office address there’s an address for an apartment complex.
I ignore it for now, basking in the fact that thanks to Dr. Marks I have a paid internship at my dream job.
Dr. Marks clears his throat, “That’s all for today. Tomorrow, we'll go over the syllabus. Class will be more fun if you don't read it, so don't.”
