Chapter 5
"What time do you have class Mels?" Cassie asked, gently shaking my shoulder to wake me up.
I grabbed my cell in a panic and checked the time. 10:15am. Fuck!
"About 15 minutes ago!" I said, jumping out of bed and running to the bathroom. I brushed my teeth and pulled my hair into a messy bun in lightening speed, being devastated that I couldn't shower until later. I ran back into the bedroom and threw on the same outfit from yesterday. My presentation would have to take a back seat on the priority wagon today.
I had spent all of Sunday working on my Great Gatsby paper and had finally finished, feeling pretty accomplished. It wasn't that I particularly wanted to work on the paper, more so that there's nothing more motivating than avoidance. I knew I had three options: Work on the paper, leave the dorm, or get drawn into a depressive spiral researching Shield. As a storm had rolled into town, outside the dorm wasn't an option so I had to bite the bullet and get stuck in to Fitzgerald. Not that it mattered now if Professor Atkins wasn't feeling lenient about my tardiness.
It took me a total of four minutes to sprint from my dorm to the lecture hall in the pouring rain. I must have thought up a hundred different excuses for being late while I ran, but the truth was I just hadn't set my alarm the night before. I was positive I had but I must have been wrong. I sleep far too lightly to not wake up the second it goes off.
I reached the lecture hall and jolted through the door, my breathing completely out of control, bringing the entire class's attention to myself. Before I had chance to take a seat, Professor Atkins stopped me.
"Miss Marks, please wait for me outside, I will be with you in just one moment." He said sternly.
I waited outside for around 10 minutes, slowly losing the will to be there at all. I was just about to bail when he stepped into the corridor.
"Miss Marks. What can I do for you?" He asked.
"I'm so sorry. I forgot to set my alarm last night, I got here as quickly as I could." I tried, choosing the truth above any lame excuse. Perhaps honesty would be the best policy for me.
"Yes I can see that. Did you not stop and think to grab an umbrella on your way out the door?" He smiled, amused by the fact I looked like a drowned rat.
"No Professor. I just wanted to get here. I have my Great Gatsby paper for you." I said, reaching into my sodden rucksack and handing him the folder with my greatest work of the semester inside.
He took it from me but let out an exasperated sigh as he did.
"Melissa, it's like this. So far this semester you have handed in a total of 4 papers, 0 of which have been turned in on schedule and 0 of which have been of a grade that makes extensions and tardiness acceptable. When I spoke with your Aunt Erica last week I mentioned to her that you don't seem to be here with us, even when you are here with us. Now I appreciate you've had a rough week, but I can't help but expect more from you." He said, clearly channeling firm but fair.
"I know professor. I truly am sorry, I'm trying to get everything sorted out. I want to do better I swear. I was even going to ask about extra credit after class today." I replied.
"I believe that you are trying, and I appreciate it. But as a educator I cannot reasonably grant you any extra credit. In fact, the Dean and I have had discussions surrounding your work ethic, and we do feel that deferring a year may be in your best interest. You have so much potential Melissa and I would hate to see that go to waste, but I think for now maybe it would be wise to spend some time finding yourself, before you try and find any reasoning behind the works of F. Scott Fitzgerald." He said.
I knew logically he was right, and while I had been so sure I didn't care about college, I couldn't deny the sting his words left, which were amplified tenfold when he handed me back the paper and turned back into the class. He had told me to head back to my dorm and wait for the Dean to get in touch so we could 'discuss final decisions' but it was clear that any decision had already been made for me. I shuddered at the thought of the impending conversation I'd be having with Aunt Erica.
I felt like everything around me had come crashing down in just a few short days. Since the accident last week it had been stress on top of stress on top of stress. I found myself getting worked up over things that usually wouldn't bother me - such as attending school. As I walked back to my dorm I felt myself becoming more angry and frustrated with myself and didn't relish the thought of telling Cassie why I didn't get to stay in class, so I decided to go for a walk instead. At least if I could be alone with my thoughts, maybe I'd get somewhere with some form of plan.
After a short while I found myself back in Central Park, as if I had been walking on auto pilot while my brain had been busy trying to figure out the mess I was in. The rain had subsided and the sun was peeking out from behind dark clouds. I sat on the same bench I had been sat on less than a week ago when things took a turn for the strange. I sat down in the center of the bench, crossing my legs underneath me. This time I didn't reach for a book, but instead I looked around myself trying to recall the events of last week.
Looking over at the exploded building, I saw scaffolding had already been erected and there were builders rushing about with their materials, shouting obscenities' at each other in jest. I listened to their banter and found myself chuckling along with them. After a few short minutes I had learned that David was a dick who never got a round in. His defense was that Jim would order $20 cocktails, but only when it was David's round. Then came the great debate about what made a masculine drink and a unanimous decision was made that if it tastes good, then it's good enough for 'man'.
I couldn't help but smile as I listened to them. My dad had owned a painting and decorating company, and so I had grown up with similar banter between him and his "gang" as he called them. Every Thursday night they would head to Lennie's bar after work. It was between our home and my high school, so I'd stop in on my way home to see them all. I remembered they'd all call out "Hey little beaver!" as I walked in. I had gone through a phase of saying "Damn" a lot when I was really little, and they'd quickly picked up on it. I didn't mind their teasing though - it made me feel more like part of Dad's world and I loved that.
I felt myself getting nostalgic and tears started to trickle down my face. I was pulled out of it suddenly though, when a woman came and sat down on the right next to me, despite there being multiple empty benches available. She had long and luxurious strawberry blonde hair and the fairest skin. She was dainty, but there was something powerful about her too. She was beautiful. As I went to scoot over and widen the gap between us, another woman came and sat on my left side. Another red head, but I knew this woman. It was the woman I had seen over the weekend at Starbucks.
My heart started racing as I realized something was going on. Either they couldn't see me or they were messing with me. Anxiety filled my body so much that I couldn't find a way to stand up and leave. It felt like there was a weight holding me to the seat.
"They did a good job on clean up, right?" The woman to my left said, seemingly not addressing me.
"Mhmm, they always do. That building should be back up in no time." Replied the woman to my right with a smile.
"Shame we didn't get here earlier. Sure would have been nice to stop the bomb and find the bastard who set it." Replied Starbucks woman.
"What the fuck is happening?" I whispered to myself, apparently not quiet enough.
"Oh sorry Mels. Wanda and I were just talking about the attack last week. You heard about that right? Oh wait, of course you did. You were here!" She continued, obviously amused with herself.
"Who are you? What do you want?" I demanded.
"Calm down Melissa. You're okay." Said the woman who I now knew was named Wanda.
"Calm down?!" I snapped. "I haven't got a clue what is going on! Who are you people? How do you know my name?! "
"Jeez kid, seriously you should chill out. You're gonna pop a blood vessel or something." Laughed the Starbucks woman. She was thoroughly enjoying herself.
"Nat! You're scaring her!" Wanda warned.
"Sorry." Nat half heartedly said while rolling her eyes. "Okay, fun's over. You need to come with us now."
"What?! I'm not going anywhere with you!" I snapped and finally found the strength to stand up and leave. I didn't manage to take more than a step before I felt Wanda's hand around my wrist.
"Sit down Sweetie, please." She said. "We're not here to hurt you."
"Really?! Because you're for sure being pretty hostile right now!" I was filled with panic but still managed to shoot small daggers at Nat.
"I thought you said she'd got the message?" She asked Wanda, visibly confused.
"She should have?" Wanda questioned, looking at me waiting for me to confirm or deny.
In that instant I knew who they were. Mystery man had told me they were sending Shield and it was my guess that they'd just turned up. Despite his message telling me not to run, I pulled my wrist away from her grasp to do just that. I started sprinting back in the direction of my dorm, feeling safer that I couldn't hear them running after me. I made it out of central park and just as I turned a corner I was stopped dead in my tracks - Wanda stood right in front of me with her arms folded across her chest.
"How did.. You were just.. How.." where the only words I could force out between my ragged breaths.
Wanda didn't say a word. Instead she put her hand to my head and I could have sworn her eyes turned a bright burning red before everything went dark.