"I'll be talking about Media Laws," Amy said as she skimmed through her laptop trying to find out where she had saved her research work.
"I've got it," she said with relief as she mastered a plastic smile on her face. She quickly and clumsily connected her laptop to the projector and nearly hit her laptop.
"Sorry," she told the students who were looking at her strangely.
"Ms. Thompson, are you okay?" Ms. Rebecca Hill, the lecturer, asked with concern.
"Yes, yes. I'm good," Amy affirmed as she inhaled and exhaled deeply. Her voice lacked conviction,making it seem she was talking more to herself than to the students.
Ms. Hill slowly shook her head. No way on earth would she believe that.
"Okay, can we now start?" Amy asked the students before her. Over the next few minutes, she spoke at length about what media laws were and how they were important to media personnel and even gave examples of some of the laws.
Amy was so good at what she was doing, and the class was paying attention, making Ms. Hill so sure that she had overthought Amy's clumsiness.
'She is okay,' she told herself as she smiled. She couldn't help but have a soft spot for Amy, who was one of the best media students in the class.
Outside the lecture hall, a group of students was walking out of class. They were talking happily in groups, and the noise they made was destructive, so Amy kept quiet for a while to let them pass when her eyes landed on Steph, who was talking irately on the phone.
Steph was wearing a pink off-shoulder dress, the dress Amy had gifted her over her last birthday.
'Oh my goodness!' Amy exclaimed as she held her head in pain at the thought of the word birthday.
The expression on her face changed to pure horror, and her face became pale white, forcing Ms. Hill to rush as fast as lightning to hold her.
Amy's heart was pumping fast, her mouth and throat were dry, and her emotions were all over the place.
Without control, she broke into a loud deafening cry that forced Ms. Hill to suspend the class. Holding her, she slowly walked with Amy out of the lecture hall to the guidance and counseling room, where she gave her a glass of water which Amy couldn't even hold with her trembling hands.
Back in the classroom, there was a commotion with each student trying to make sense of what had just happened. The news spread like wildfire all over the campus.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Ms. Hill asked in a low polite voice, and Amy strongly shook her head. No way was she going to talk about what she wasn't even sure of yet.
"Sharing your problems is half solving them. I would rather…." Ms. Hill said affectionately, but Amy interrupted by saying that she was fine and had just had a small scare.
"Amy! What happened?" Steph asked as she rushed into the guidance and counseling room without even knocking. She had imagined the worst when she heard students talking of Amy having a panic attack, and she was more than relieved to find Amy sited and able to talk.
"I came as soon as I heard about it! Are you okay?" Dylan asked in Steph's tow as he rushed to Amy's side. He gave her a peck on the cheeks and looked at her affectionately that Ms. Hill and Steph felt they were intruding on their privacy.
"Yes, I'm fine. I just…I just had a minor panic, but as you can see, I'm very fine," Amy said in a strong, confident voice.
"Enough of this, Amy! I have had enough of you trying to handle this your way. Tell her the truth and get done with it!" Dylan shouted as he looked from Amy to Steph. Steph slowly turned to look at Amy, who turned away to avoid her eyes.
"What should you tell me?" Steph asked in a low voice, praying that it wasn't more bad news, but she could tell it definitely was. In less than two weeks, she had received enough bad news for a lifetime. First, it was the news about their family house, then Travis' disappearance and her parents' never-ending quarrels. On top of all that, she had to deal with Amy's moods.
"Nothing. Forget about him. He is just ranting," Amy dismissively said as she looked at Dylan, who was pacing up and down the room and running his fingers over his hair. His body posture spelled one thing: anger.
"It's nothing…." Dylan said in a challenging voice, and Amy got up and shouted at him.
"It's my business, and I call the shots here,"
"You'll die calling the shots, Amy, yet she is so carefree. Don't you see that? You have to stop this selfless act of yours cause it will cost you more," Dylan shouted, almost in a plea.