I was tired of bitches. Yeah, bitches. It’s not like I hate women, but I despise women that acted like bitches. Rosie acted like a bitch, which is something I didn’t think she could ever be. Rosie wasn’t catty, or entitled like other bitches. All she did was draw, not give a shit about her image, and kept to herself. So what made Rosie turn into a bitch? She allowed someone to mold her into one. She wasn’t just Rosie anymore; she was someone’s bitch. She was better than being someone’s bitch, especially if that someone was a bitch himself.
I dreaded going into the bookstore to buy my books for my classes, but I’m glad it’s done. I don’t ever have to step foot into that place and I never have to see Rosie on campus again.
Until I did.
I entered the classroom and sat in a seat that was toward the back. This was the last elective I needed to take before I was able to finally focus on my major classes. Tanner took this class his first semester with the same professor and said it would be the “easiest A I’d get”. Nothing was ever easy for me.
I took my phone and saw that Kalia tried calling me before she left a message. I was mad at her; she was here one day, wanting to work things out with me and on our relationship, the next day she was on the plane for a press tour for her new movie. I wasn’t mad at her for having to do her job; I was mad that she chose her job over me once again. Everything was disposable when it came to me.
Before I was able to read Kalia’s message, Dani called my phone. I picked up the phone before class would officially start.
“Yo,” I answered the phone. “What’s up?”
“You’re still coming to rehearsal for Tanner’s gig, right?” Dani asked, going straight to the point. “You know you are the sound engineer for his performance and you canceled on us twice.”
“Yeah, I’m coming,” I said, rolling my eyes.
“Are you sure? Like Tanner is your bro,” Dani emphasized. “The last time you canceled was before you were with your on and off again fling, Kalia.”
“Yeah, well, now she’s back in Sweden doing her movie gig shit and I’m free, so I’ll see you guys in rehearsal later,” I said and quickly hung up the phone. I rolled my eyes and took out my notebook as the professor and the last of the other students walked in. One of them sat in the empty seat next to me; a girl.
“Good afternoon, class,” the professor greeted. “Welcome to the introductory level of performance art.” He began to hand out the syllabus to the students in the class. He handed the two copies of the syllabus to me; I took one and handed it over to the girl sitting next to me. She finally looked up and was mortified. I can’t say I wasn’t completely speechless.
“Rosie?” I just said, trying to see if this was actually the Rosie I just saw at the bookstore no longer than 30 minutes ago. She quickly turned around and raised her hand. The professor points at her.
“Professor Ramirez, are these going to be our permanent seats for the semester?” Rosie asked.
“I’m glad you mentioned that,” Professor Ramirez said, sitting on top of the desk in front. “You see, art comes in many forms, and depending on the decisions you make, you are faced with challenges that you didn’t know would impact the effect of other decisions you’ll make in your art.” He gets up and walks around the room. “You all chose the seat you are in because you wanted to be in that specific seat for this class. With that being said, your final project for this class requires you to work with the person you are sitting next to today.”
“What?” I said out loud, not realizing that I said it loud enough for Professor Ramirez to hear me.
“Yeah,” he answered back. “Which now brings us to our first assignment of the class. Everyone, please get acquainted with the person the universe decided to pair you up with.” I looked at Rosie, who rolled her eyes and continued to doodle in her notebook, avoiding me. Wile everyone in the class was talking to the person next to them, Rosie refused to say anything to me.
“Rosie,” I called out for her, annoyed at this point. “We got shit we gotta do for this class.” Of course, Rosie was being a bitch, and she didn’t answer or seemed to listen to anything I was telling her. “Yo, Rosie!”
“What?” Rosie finally answered, annoyed.
“Isn’t this class one of your requirements toward your major?” I mentioned. I knew it was, even though she didn’t say anything. “With all due respect, you are the last person I want to work on this dumb ass project with, but I am not going to let ou or this petty drama fuck up my grade for this class. I’m trying to graduate on time-“
“Tell someone who cares, Micah,” Rosie interrupted, not looking up from her notebook as she doodled. I placed my hand over her notebook; that seemed to get her attention. “Move.”
“You should be looking to graduate on time too if you’re getting financial aid to pay for your classes, or are you gonna depend on Prescott Jones to pay your tuition bills?” I spat out, not caring if it got on Rosie’s nerves or not.
“Fuck you, Micah,” Rosie spat back, yanking the book from under my hand.
“Whatever, Rosie,” I said, not even phased anymore. We both looked up at Professor Ramirez, who is now calling us out in front of the class.
“Excuse me; Kamalani, Delgado,” he began to say. “You are not the only two students in this class, please try to keep it between the two of you.” We both stood quiet, not wanting to look at her or really be in the same room as her anymore. I should just drop this fucking class, for real.
Letters From Liz. 