Nobody seemed to notice or care about Jason Butler's schedule. The university campus he attended was always hopeless during lunch hours. If he had any chance of arriving at the pharmacy in time, he would have to go against his personal standards for crowd etiquette.
Jason began to purge his way through the masses. As an opening cleared, he whipped his backpack off, unzipped the zipper, and pulled out a pure white lab coat all in one smooth motion. With coordinated action, he maneuvered the bag and the coat until the coat was neatly placed on him and the backpack was slung over his shoulder once more.
He glanced at his watch. Five minutes. Not enough time to cross the parking lot, let alone cross the bridge and go around the stadium.
Two years ago, as a freshman, he vowed to never be the guy who ducked his head and weaved through the crowds like a water snake. That was just asking for rejection on all levels.
He pushed the thought out of his mind as he slithered through the parked cars and rushed up the steps to the top of the bridge.
Three minutes. Keep weaving.
Jason ducked his head and jumped back into action.
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