There was a woman who sat next to me in math class for the entire last semester.
I did very well in the class. She struggled, even with the simplifications made by the instructor.
And so about halfway through each assignment, I got hit with questions.
I tried to help her as best as I could, sometimes with mixed success.
But I sort of resented it. I’d rather focus on just getting my own assignment done, and let the teacher try to explain to her again…. especially with only 15 students in the class, and a teacher who regularly went around to answer questions and help on issues.
I helped… but wasn’t all that happy to be called on to help.
So we both made it through the class, though I think it was probably only by the teacher being nice that she got the required C to move on.
And so this semester started… and the next math class up, with the same teacher, on the same night of the week.
And she’s in it again, and she sits right next to me again in spite of lots of open space in the classroom. She has the expensive book… and a brand new graphing calculator… and seems ready to go.
The first two weeks go about the same as last semester did.
But there was a bit of a twist.
I had three classes on tuesdays, each 2-3 hours apart… so I made the decision to just stay on campus all day and use the time between as study time.
So I was in the library before class, and found out that she sits in the study area right when you come in the doors of the library building for the hour before class.
She caught me the first week, and so I got into what felt like a trapped conversation. The next week I avoided it.
So the third week comes around.
I go to the building where our class meets a bit more than an hour early, and I find out that they are serving a random student activities council dinner…. namely, they are being pushy trying to get everyone to take some chicken strips and cookies.
And so… sort of out of nowhere… in spite of my somewhat annoyed feelings about this woman… I follow a random feeling, and decide to go over to the library and tell her about the meal.
So I do.
And we got into a conversation for the rest of the hour before class that was much less forced… and actually went smoothly and was a nice conversation.
And then, the next week, for the first time, she misses class.
She wasn’t there tonight either.
Apparently she dropped… without saying anything to the teacher as to why…. just out of the blue… when she’d seemed to be ready to go for this semester.
My feelings are sort of mixed and confused.
But I’m glad I mentioned the chicken.