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When David sat down in his third class, he was excited. Well, it had already been an exciting day; Art History and Life of the Wilderness had already taught him things that he didn't know, and it was only his first day! He looked around for a person to sit next to and quickly found Gwen, his best friend. He went up to her, waving.
"Hey! I didn't know you were interested in psychology."
"I'm really not, but I threw a dart at a board last year and so it's my major now." He beamed at her.
"Wow, that's a really interesting way of choosing your major! I like your creativity."
Gwen stared at him with a deadpan(but lovable!) expression on her face. "Why are you here, anyway? To make sure people can’t walk over you as much as they do?"
"No! Wait, people walk over me...?"
She rolled her eyes. "You haven't noticed?"
"No, not at all. People just ask me to do things for them, that's all." His friend looked at him oddly but decided not to press it any further.
"Anyway, you didn't answer my question." David lit up again.
"Oh! I really want to learn about how other people think! I love the camp I do part-time work in, but sometimes it feels like I don't know what they're thinking or what they're going to do next, which can be a bit... dangerous."
"I keep telling you to leave that damn place. How many times have you been hit by a bus now?"
"Too many to count on my fingers," he muttered.
She gave him an ‘I told you so’ look. "So, what do you think the teacher's going to be like? I've heard all people that teach psychology at this school are weirdos, but apparently he's new."
"Oh, we have a new teacher? That's so cool! We'll be learning from him and he'll be learning from us!"
Gwen narrowed her eyes. "Considering the fact that he's literally teaching psychology, I don't think that'll be the case."
"Oh, true."
As he said that, another scholar walked in the door. He was a good ten minutes later than everyone else, had curly hair, darkish skin, and when he looked up at the rows of other students David swore he had the most beautiful face that he had ever seen.
“Stop staring!" Gwen nudged him. “You don’t want him to notice you doing that, do you? God, you’re like an open book.” She paused to sigh. "I'll teach you how to flirt after this, okay? See if you can catch his eye.”
"You'd really do that?" David didn't even bother to try to hide his feelings today. He didn't like being so obvious, but this boy... dang.
He stared as the kid slowly got up to the teacher’s desk, sat in the chair, spun around a few times, decided he didn't like it, and sat on the desk.
"Alright, punks," he said. No one listened. "I said, Alright, punks!" A few people quieted down.
The student sighed, got up, and rummaged through one of the drawers of the desk. When he found what he was looking for, he got up, sat on the desk again, and let loose an air horn. Everyone quieted down pretty quickly after that.
“What the fuck, man?!” Someone yelled. The curly-haired guy flipped him off.
“I assume that you all didn’t hear me the first two times, so I’ll start again. Alright, punks; my name is Max Pruitt, I’m your teacher, and you’re taking the most pessimistic psychology class you ever will.”
“…Damn,” was all Gwen could say. “You’ve got the hots for the teacher.”
“Damn,” David echoed. This was going to be a hard year.
––––––
A hard year, in fact, it was. David tried to stay optimistic, but with his packed schedule, tough classes, and incredibly good-looking teacher lecturing about how life was meaningless, it was hard to. Gwen kept his spirits up a bit, but mostly teased him about his embarrassing crush.
“You should really go talk to him,” she said one day. Whether it was because she wanted him to choke on his drink, he didn’t know, but that’s what ended up happening.
“Are— are you crazy?!” he asked after an intense coughing fit. “I can’t even look at him without embarrassing myself!” To his dismay, David was a little too good at making his feelings about Mr. Pruitt known. Just a glance from his teacher would make him trip over his own feet(even if he wasn’t walking in the first place). His teacher just smirked whenever it happened; a condescending grin laced with amusement. Seeing it only made his clumsiness worse, though, which created an endless cycle until his teacher walked away, leaving him mortified.
“Yeah, it’s pretty funny.” Gwen picked at her nails, a faint smile appearing on her face. “But it’s also kinda sad. Like, you’re obviously head-over-heels for him. A simple hello or answering of a question couldn’t hurt.”
“It could,” he said reassuringly. “It could hurt so much.”
“What would it hurt? His opinion of the most socially inept kid in his class? Or your ego?” His mind flashed back to the flirting lessons Gwen had tried to give; she couldn’t stop laughing every time he tried to wink or… well, or do anything, for that matter.
“Definitely the latter, though I wouldn’t be surprised if it was both,” he mumbled.
Gwen sighed. “You’re never gonna get anywhere if you don’t try.”
“I’m not going to get anywhere anyway,” David told her, becoming slightly annoyed. “Not only are we not taking his feelings into account (he might already be in a relationship, might not be gay, might not find me attractive, etc.), he’s a teacher. Relations like that between a student and teacher are forbidden in this school, Gwen. The handbook says it in twenty separate places, despite it having only forty-five pages.”
“Forty-five pages too many,” his friend commented. He ignored it.
“It doesn’t matter if you agree with the rules, Gwen. You have to follow them.”
“Terribly sorry,” Mr. Pruitt said, “but I’m afraid I have to refute that logic.”
David jumped about two feet in the air, then, on landing, promptly tripped over his feet. Gwen helped him up as the teacher continued.
“Rules, whether large or small, are meant to confine you. Sometimes it may be for your own benefit, true, but other times it only benefits those making the rules. One must learn the difference and act accordingly.” He sighed and slouched, seemingly tired of holding his back up, and gave that heart-stopping smirk. “Or just don’t give a damn. That’s worked out for me so far.”
Professor Max Pruitt walked away, and David looked at Gwen in horror. “How long had he been listening?” The redhead asked desperately. Gwen shrugged.
“I dunno, but not long enough to slip you his number, so not long enough.” He flushed. As if he didn’t want to curl up in a ball and die already, she just had to say those embarrassing things…
As he tried to cover the blush on his face that was only getting worse, the words of his teacher rang in his ears. ‘Or just don’t give a damn. That’s worked out for me so far.’ Funny enough, David had never tried not caring. He always put his all into everything; all his energy, all his emotions, all his time. What if, he asked himself, he just didn’t give a damn for once?
Gwen stared at the gears turning in his head. “You’re thinking,” she stated. “What’re you planning?”
He looked at her, a small bit of resolve in his eyes. “I’m gonna ask him out.” She grinned.
“Took you long enough.”
——
This was it. If he didn’t accept, that was whatever. It didn’t matter. He wasn’t giving a damn, remember? No damns, hoots, or craps given. He could do this. And if Mr. Pruitt— no, Max— didn’t accept, that was fine. It would be fine.
Right? Right.
David packed up his things extremely slowly, continuing his half-hour pep talk as he did so. It would work out in the end. Whatever happens, happens. It’s okay. It’s okay.
After calming down his heart for the umpteenth time, he looked up and saw his professor looking at him, eyebrow raised with that lazy smirk. And had to calm his heart down again.
“When I meant nothing matters, David, I didn’t mean you could waste our time. It’s the one thing I possess in this sorry excuse of a life, and I’d like to make good use of it.”
“My apologies, Mr. Pruitt.” He said, placing the last few things into his bag.
“Call me Max. Mr. Pruitt makes me feel old. There are only, what, two years between us?”
David counted on his mental fingers. One, two… Huh. It seemed so. “Yep!”
Mr.— Max smiled. Not his usual smirk. A smile. Somehow, that did even worse things to David’s heart.
He slung his backpack over his shoulder and walked to the front of the class, about two feet from the exit. “I’ve, uh, decided to adopt your nihilistic approach to life,” He told his teacher. The eyebrow raised again.
“Is that so?”
David nodded, trying desperately to solely focus on the weight on his shoulder while also looking at Max. “Yeah.” There was a pause. “U-um, so, with that mentality in mind,”
“As it apparently is,” Max interrupted, seeming to grow slightly impatient.
“Yes, as it is…” David took a deep breath. “Want to get coffee sometime?”
There was silence. Max scanned David’s eyes, and the student was too scared to look away. This is fine, this is fine, this is so so fine—
“I thought you’d never ask. Three months of clumsy falls and not being able to look me in the eye, and all I had to say was ‘Don’t give a damn’?” The professor gave a short chuckle. “I should’ve done that a while ago.”
David flushed. So he had noticed. God, this was embarrassing…
“Don’t be embarrassed. Or do; it’s cute.” Max tore a sheet of paper off his notebook and scribbled down a number, then handed it to him. “Text me sometime, we’ll set up a time and place.”
He gingerly took it. Was— was this real? David glanced from the paper to Max, dumbfounded. He really hadn’t expected it to go that well, but now that it had… well, he didn’t know what to do.
“You’re dismissed, David.” His professor said, heart-stopping smirk creeping back onto his face.
“Oh! Sorry, yep, I’ll, uh…” He held up his hand to wave but ended up showing off the paper instead. “I’ll text you.”
“I sure hope so.”
David backed into the door, thanking the heavens that it was the push kind, gave an awkward smile, and walked away as fast as his scrawny legs would carry him.
…Well, that just happened. A wisp of a smile found its way on his face as he power-walked through the hallway.
Maybe he should try not giving a damn more often.