Chapter Text
Chapter 1: History of Music
September 1979
Jackie
There he was again! The curly hair and sideburns gave him away, even though I could only see the back of his head when I walked into the lecture hall.
This was the third time this week I’d seen this guy, once in the corridor, once in my Politics 101 class, and now here he was in my History of Music class. I probably wouldn’t have noticed him, but he was always wearing these stupid sunglasses. We’re inside, why was he always wearing those? I tried to brush it off and forget about him, but when I started to look for somewhere to sit, I just gravitated toward him. For some reason, he intrigued me.
I took a deep breath, trying to get up the courage to sit near him… but not directly next to him, of course, because the lecture hall was big, and it wasn’t very full. Even though I’m new to college courses, I’m pretty sure it’s against standard lecture hall etiquette to sit next to a stranger when there are other seats available.
I didn’t know anybody in this class. Actually, I didn’t know anybody in this entire school. I was supposed to go to this big prestigious university with some of my private school friends, but then my dad had to get arrested for embezzlement. Now I was here at this state school, less than half an hour from where I grew up, but I was trying to make the best of it. I was living at school because my mom had to sell the house and now she was off in Mexico, or Hawaii, or somewhere… I could never keep track.
I hadn’t made any friends yet, I was feeling out of place, it seemed like people already had their cliques. Even my roommate, Donna (who was nice enough, despite the fact that she only wore flannels and looked like a giant red-headed lumberjack), hadn’t invited me to hang out with her friends yet. Although I’m not sure why, because I was a delight to be around, she just hadn’t realized it yet.
Okay, fine, maybe I hadn’t put any effort in either. I did know she was a year older than me, just starting her freshman year after taking a year off to work to pay for school. I knew she was from the area as well, but had to live at school because her dad moved to Florida. I also knew she had terrible taste in clothes.
The boy, let’s call him Sunglasses, was seated in the third seat of the second row from the back. I sat on the end, trying not to look at him and put my bag on the ground next to my feet. I dug through my bag and took out my notebook and a pen. As I flipped my hair out of my face after getting my things, I could see that he was looking at me.
“Can I help you?” I asked him, raising one of my eyebrows.
Sunglasses leaned back in his seat, frowned a bit, and then shook his head no. Damn, he was attractive. Calm down Jackie, pull it together. Just because it’s been six months since your last kiss doesn’t mean you need to jump the first guy you find attractive. That didn’t mean I didn’t want to. But I wouldn’t.
“It’s just that you were kind of staring at me, and I know I’m gorgeous, but it’s not polite to stare when I don’t even know your name.” Confidence, that’s it Jackie, exude confidence.
“Just wondering why a self-absorbed, rude, pretty girl is taking this history of music class. I thought this class was for slackers and nerds,” he said, slightly combative.
I just stared at him, suddenly he was less attractive to me (but only slightly). Self-absorbed and rude? How would he know, I’ve only said two things to him!? But he did say I was pretty…. But no, don’t focus on that, Jackie! “First of all, that was rude, second of all, I’m taking this as one of my liberal arts electives. And how do you know I’m not a slacker or a nerd?” I narrowed my eyes at him, I could be combative too. Maybe I didn’t want to get to know this guy after all, especially if he was going to insult me within minutes of meeting me.
“Well, you have a notebook out and I bet you like ABBA, don’t you?” He raised an eyebrow from behind his sunglasses.
I didn’t respond because I was pretty sure he was just trying to get a rise out of me, but it was hard to tell with his eyes covered. Although, he wasn’t wrong, I did like ABBA and I was a good student. Damn, how did he read me like a book?
My non-response must have meant yes to him, because then he said, “I just call it like I see it,” while folding his arms across his chest. I scoffed and turned my attention back toward the front of the lecture hall.
We sat in silence for a few minutes before the professor walked in and started setting up his things on his desk. I sat waiting with my notebook perched on the small pull out desk. “You don’t need to take notes.” Sunglasses whispered as he gestured toward my open notebook and my pen hovering above the page.
“Oh?” I questioned quietly. We were in the back of the lecture hall, but I didn’t want to be called out for talking, especially on the first day of this class.
“I know someone who took this class last year, and he’s a nerd, so he took a ton of notes.” And what did that have to do with me?
“Good for you, but I don’t know him, so I need to take notes.” I turned back to the front, but I guess he wasn’t done talking to me.
“Don’t bother,” he said. I didn’t get this guy at all. First he insulted me, and now he was insinuating he was going to share his friend’s notes with me? Talk about whiplash.
“Umm, I don’t—” I started to say, but then the professor cleared his throat and got the attention of the entire class.
“Hello students, I’m Professor Martin, welcome to History of Music. Before we get started, I’m going to be taking roll call, but after today I’ll only be taking attendance on test days,” the professor said and then started to call names. When he got to me, “Jacqueline Burkhart,” I raised my hand.
“Just Jackie,” I whispered as I put my hand down, hoping Sunglasses heard me and would offer his name in return. He didn’t.
When Professor Martin said, “Steven Hyde,” Sunglasses finally raised his hand.
“You can call me Hyde,” he whispered to me. Okay, I could do that. I nodded, then looked down at my notebook, trying to hide the blush that was creeping up on my cheeks. Why am I blushing? All he did was tell me what to call him! Sure, he was attractive, if you liked scruffy confusing guys….
Oh, thank God, the lecture finally began, and I didn’t have to think about why Hyde affected me this way after only a few minutes. I started to take notes, but I could feel Hyde’s disapproval when I glanced over at him lounged in his seat. It was only about 25 minutes into the 90-minute class when Professor Martin started to fiddle with a film projector. He said he was going to show us something that had to do with Beethoven. Suddenly, I felt a hand on my arm. I looked over and saw Hyde had an arm reached over the seat between us. I mouthed ‘what’ to him.
He tilted his head toward the door, removing his hand from my arm. The skin where he touched me burned from the warmth of his hand.
I raised both my eyebrows, he wants me to skip class? This was only the first day!
He tilted his head again, and slowly stood up, carefully, so his seat didn’t make noise. He shuffled past me, and then I watched him sneak out the door. I stared at the empty seat where he had been sitting for about 20 minutes (it was 15 seconds) before I decided what the hell. It was my last class of the day, and I wasn’t even interested in learning about Beethoven. But I was interested in learning more about Steven Hyde.