#soft start

“Let me help you with that bag, sweetheart.”

“I’ve got it, thank you. And I’m not your sweetheart.”

“Well then what is your name, sweetie?”

Internally, Layla rolled her eyes. “It’s Layla.”

“Layla. That’s such a pretty name. I saw you sitting by yourself the other day and I knew I had to get to know you. So, where you headed?”

“Building G.”

“What a coincidence! So am I! What class?”

“CRJ 303.”

What’s that? Cute Ruffles and….Jewels?” Jordan winked at her.

“So you think I’m a fashion major.” Just like everyone else does.

“Well, with your makeup done so well, your trendy clothes...and your body…” She could feel his eyes lingering on her hungirly. She cringed internally.

“Actually, why don’t you look up the class? I’ve forgotten the full name of it. How silly of me.” She flashed a playful smile at him. Jordan grinned ear to ear as he whipped out his phone. Looks like he took the bait, Layla smirked internally. Now to go in for the kill.

“...Wait. That can’t be right.”

“Hmm?” She looked up innocently.

“...It says here that CRJ 303 is Statistical Analysis.”

“That’s right.”

“But, you can’t be taking that.”

“Why’s that?”

“Well for one thing, you’re a fashion major, and second, you’re too…”

“Too what? Too pretty?”

Jordan froze and flushed red. Layla stopped to face him, standing at her full height. She was only 5’4”, but three inch heels helped.

“First off, I never said I was a fashion major. You assumed. Second, you assume that just because I’m pretty that I can’t possibly be smart. Am I right?”

“Well, I…”

“CRJ 303 is Statistical Analysis for Criminal Justice majors. It covers the fundamentals and application of descriptive and inferential statistics, with emphasis in the administration of justice. It requires math as high as Calculus, which I’ve already taken. I’ve already knocked out all of my pre-reqs while I was still in high school and am here on a full-ride scholarship. I’m here to study and become a detective, not just be some blonde bimbo who will let herself get laid by any boy who walks up and tries to be cute. Got it?”

Jordan had shrunk by at least six inches. He couldn’t speak.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a class to get to. Go find someone else to objectify. Or better yet, don’t objectify anyone at all.”

She turned with a swish of blonde hair, leaving Jordan in shambles. As soon as she was inside the classroom, she slumped down in her seat and breathed a sigh of relief. This kind of interaction was fairly normal for her. Why can’t people see that I am intelligent and_ like makeup and dressing nice?_ When people gave her unwanted attention at first, she had tried just telling them no, but they wouldn’t listen. So she had been forced to develop a more...potent way to deal with them. I’m tired of everyone seeing me as just some Barbie Girl with no brains. Who says a pretty girl can’t be smart? I have a nice body and I am happy in my skin, but that’s all anyone ever sees.

A tap on her shoulder startled her from her thoughts. Her face eased into a genuine smile when she saw who it was: Waylen.

“Fend off another pack of vultures today?” He flashed a crooked smile at her as he settled into his seat.

“Yeah. If there was a season for vultures, this must be it. They’re everywhere.” She sighed as she stared blankly into space.

“That sucks for sure, Layla. But you know what else it is the season for?”

“What?”

“Pumpkin Spice Lattes.” He produced a steaming cup of coffee, the scent of autumn emanating barely contained by the beverage’s lid.

“You didn’t have to!”

“But I did. You know it’s your favorite.”

Smiling graciously, Layla accepted the hot drink, it’s warm scent calming and invigorating her. She smiled as she sipped the latte. “Maybe I should cut my hair, then the vultures would leave me alone.”

“Do you want to cut your hair?”

“...no. I love it at this length.”

“Then leave it. They are the ones who need to change, not you.”