The Stipulation
Page 5
“Roman,” Professor Stratton exclaimed.
I instantly glanced up, the name resonated through my mind and filled my head with the burned in image of Roman’s face. Was he here by some weird chance searching for me?
“Roman life and military excellence will be talked about heavily on this examination. I hope you all studied Roman life and history extensively, because if you haven’t, you will fail,” Professor Stratton said before picking up the stack of exams to hand out.
He was only talking about the exam. My heart sank a little as he continued to talk. For a split second, I hoped and prayed deep down that he was talking about Roman—imagining him entering the room to sweep me away in his arms to some exotic and far away land. I would leave this stale old room and leave college, only to be some trophy wife who would never have to work or worry about money again. That was the dream I was hoping I would be able to live. For now though, I’d have to accept that it most definitely wasn’t my reality. My reality was sitting here between two smelly guys who clearly didn’t shower, only to take some test I was likely never going to be ready for, even if I had studied for a week straight. Professor Stratton was known for his intensely hard exams, especially in the form of his finals. Most students rarely got above a seventy-five percent, and I was hoping I would at least get that high of a score. My other classes were going very well; meaning a C in this class wouldn’t kill my GPA.
The person at the end of each row was given the exams—and then the stack of tests traveled the length of the row—until each one of us received a copy. I took mine and continued to pass down the thick packet of bright-white papers, just barely stapled together. There was a certain heft to this exam, a mix of multiple choice and essay, which struck fear into the minds of everyone. I looked around at the other students, with nobody showing a clear sense of confidence as they reviewed the questions. We were a bunch of cows walking into the slaughter, and only the really lucky ones would miss the bullet and instead get to walk out with their lives.
***
I walked out of the exam an hour and a half later like a zombie, with my hair a little messed up from the constant rubbing of my hand against my head as my brain went on the fritz with each question that I read. I’m sure the poor souls who were waiting for the class to end, so they could go in and take their final, thought we were actors from some zombie movie, almost previewing their own fate.
Since this was my only final for today, all I was going to do was sit around the rest of the day inside my room. I planned to study for my English final, but I had no other plans since Roman was out of town and every one of my friends were either studying or taking their finals. You really didn’t see much of your friends during finals week, but that wasn’t much different from my normal life since all I did, up until recently, was work. I had quit my job a few days ago, my manager not too happy because I didn’t give any notice. In hindsight, I should’ve, but I was just so excited to get out that giving my two weeks didn’t seem like that big of a deal. I thought Roman would be back by now and I didn’t want to take time away from him. I was hoping he’d return and still want me after leaving my job. Now I had no way to pay my tuition or bills, other than the small amount of money I had left, which admittedly wasn’t much.
The lobby of my building was very bare, with only a couple of students there studying. Usually this place was bumping, but I even peered down the large hallway to the cafeteria and even that was bare. I was glad people were taking these finals seriously, which meant I would get some peace and quiet for once so I could study.
***
I entered my room to see the complete emptiness, which was more than welcomed. Jillian must be at a final, which meant I could sit back, relax, and study in complete peace. She had this bad habit where she would chomp on her cinnamon gum when she was either nervous or studying, meaning I would have to leave or put on headphones just to be able to hear myself think. That chomping was loud and incessant, and she never closed her mouth to do it. One of my biggest pet peeves was people who didn’t chew with their mouths closed. It was almost fitting I would be roomed up with someone who did that.
I pulled out my English textbook and study guide, for I was lucky enough to have Professor Ingle, a middle-aged woman who actually tried to give us all a chance to succeed. Either that or her job and pay were based on the performance of her students, so if she gave us a lot of answers, she wouldn’t be fired. I didn’t care what it was either way, for all I cared about was keeping my GPA up and not losing my grants or getting kicked out of the school, whether that meant doing it all on my own or getting a little help in the form of a well-written study guide.
“I just don’t think I did that well,” Jillian said outside our room as she turned the handle and opened the door.
I had just sat down and opened my books, a silent and exasperated sigh escaping from my lips, as I glared at the door. It looked like I wouldn’t be studying any time soon.
Jillian and Tara walked inside, obviously talking about a final they must’ve just taken together. They saw me sitting there and smiled, as if they knew something I didn’t.
“I’ve been looking all over for you today,” Tara said as she threw her arms up.
“What did I do?” I asked, unsure if I was in some kind of trouble, if I even could be.
“Jerome has been waiting to do your evaluation and told me to find you,” Tara said.
“Evaluation? Why would I need to be evaluated?” I asked in sheer confusion.
“Well, it’s not really an evaluation as much as an interview I guess. He just talks to you about your first date, things that happened, and then tells you how your sugar daddy felt about it,” Tara explained.
“How would he know how Roman felt about the date?” I asked.
“I thought I explained this to you before your date, but I might have forgotten. There is always a waiting period after your first date before you can see your sugar daddy again. Sometimes it’s a day, other times a week or more, depending on the guy and his career and situation. If both people said it was a success and they liked each other, more dates are set up and there would be free communication between sugar daddy and sugar baby. If the date went poorly and there is no future between the two people, then Jerome will set you up with another sugar daddy until you find one you truly connect with,” Tara explained, letting me know about this crazy side of everything I had no clue existed.
Roman and I had a great time, at least I thought so, but what if he didn’t want to see me any longer? Tara made it seem as if this whole thing could come crashing down in an instant, and I was petrified it would. I had already quit my job and had been waiting for Roman to contact me. What if he just told Jerome the whole date sucked and he didn’t care to see me any longer? I thought we had something, but maybe I just misinterpreted it. I’m not accustomed to guys anyway, so it would be easy for me to misread all of the signs.
“Well when does Jerome want to see me?” I asked.
“Now would be great,” Tara said with a smile, as if I didn’t have a choice in the matter.
I closed my books, the ones I just opened and didn’t even have a chance to study, so I could go with Tara and get this whole thing over with. I could take whatever Jerome was going to tell me, even if it were bad news. I was praying for good news, but had a gut feeling things wouldn’t go well. I slid my shoes back on, stood up, and Tara opened the door as we walked out to go see Jerome.
“Have fun you two!” Jillian said enthusiastically, as if trying to calm my nerves.
“You’ll be fine,” Tara said, as she placed her hand on my back.
We walked down the hallway, and the only thing on my mind was what was about to come next.
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