Dwayne couldn’t love college life more; it was far better than high school. The professors cared about what they taught and what they taught was mostly practical to the real world. The students had to pay to be there, and thus they wanted to be there. And what was better than liberal college girls? The classes were only for one-hour always starting at obscure times of day.
He didn’t have his first class until 11:00AM, so he normally woke at 10:00AM. This left him plenty of time for his morning ritual where he and his mother danced about the house.
Hit snooze twice, getting him out of bed at 10:11. His short nap under the steaming water in the shower took another fifteen minutes. Spend four dawdling minutes messing with his hair and teeth in the mirror. A minute and a half spent pulling on whatever clothes were in the top of his drawers. Five minutes to make some magic: sugar-milk mixed with coffee. At about 10:36 and thirty seconds, he was using the distance between the door and his car to eat a boiled egg. The short drive from home to campus usually got him to class in plenty of time. But last night Dog had ruined his precious balance and those two slaps at the snooze button had become four.
“Hey, ma?” he called, scrambling into some jeans. He’d have to skip the shower and the nap this morning, despite needing both.
“Huh?” she replied from the bathroom where she was putting on some lip colored lipstick. It was laughable she had to add natural color to her already natural lip color. What did it accomplish but making her morning replies a half winded response as she held her mouth open?
“Dog was fighting again last night; you might want to give him a rub down, see if he’s cut up bad anywhere,” Dwayne explained loudly as he moved from his room to the kitchen. He grabbed a plastic bag and put a few fistfuls of trail mix into it. He could eat that while walking and driving.
“That cat needs to learn to fight,” his mother said after a little while; the natural colored lipstick must have dried. She clicked on the hair dryer. She always had time for a shower. He was starting to lament the fact he’d have to skip brewing up some coffee as he pushed his feet into a pair of shoes. He considered filling a thermos with just sugar milk, but decided against it; he needed that little bit of coffee to make it all work.
“Yeah, I know,” he said moving past the fridge that held his favored boiled egg. “You’ll probably wanna check it out. I really have to go. If I’m a minute late the Prof’ won’t let me in at all,” he called moving through the kitchen to the back door.
The hair dryer clicked off, “Okay,” she said coming out of the bathroom hurrying into the kitchen after him. She gave him a hug for luck and he kissed her forehead because she was his mother, his only parent, and he loved her.
Dwayne was wiry, much like his mother though there was about half a foot to his advantage in height. It made kissing her forehead easy. His mothers’ dark brown hair was the same shade of oak as Dwayne’s, though hers came to the middle of her back and she’d had it highlighted recently. His hair was a bit more conservative than that. Controversial hair styles weren’t his idea of teenage rebellion. It was never long enough to touch the tops of his ears though this morning it did stick out in funny directions.
“Good luck on your final, honey,” she kissed his cheek; she was the perfect height for that, “you’ll do fine, and don’t worry; I’ll take care of Dog at some point today before or after work. You just worry about acing that final, ‘kay?”
“Right,” he said with a short lift of his eyebrows. He turned, grabbing his bag of assorted nuts from the kitchen counter and walked out of the back door for the street. “Love you, mum!” He heard her amorous reply as he shut the door behind him.
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