Her Lips My Touch ✓

Chapter Four | One Thing at a Time

It wasn't until Holland had left for her first class of the day did she realize just how difficult the semester was going to be.

Normally she was one of the only people in her classes back home that would ask questions or know the answers to when called on, however, it was much different in her new school.

Obviously, the people attending the college wanted to learn-that or their parents were forcing them with bribes and whatnots. Holland just wasn't used to being around people who wanted to learn about the same things she did.

There were questions people asked that she would have never thought of and without hesitation added to her detailed notes.

It was nice and terrifying all at once.

The campus itself was a lot nicer in person. Small details caught Holland's attention as she walked. There were lights strung across some of the trees, small and twinkling when she looked out her window at night.

Though when people in films and shows always talked about not being able to find a building or place on their campus Holland was finally understanding what they meant by that.

She had found it quite challenging to find anything and whenever she finally did she didn't know how she managed it. Even when she asked people where a building was, deemed to be problematic work on its own.

Despite her issues with the layout of the campus, the day was going surprisingly well. She had to remind herself that only the schooling mattered nothing more.

Not the friends she was always told to make, not the roommate issues she was having, and definitely not the fact she had to find a job by the end of the day.

One thing at a time.

Her next class was actually pretty fun for it being literature related. As one of the requirements, she had to take a year of literature along with many other classes that would help her with her endgame career. At the very least that was what she had to tell herself when she didn't want to focus in those handful of classes.

Literature was never a favorite-or anything close to it for that matter. Holland strongly disliked reading any of the required books or passages; the classes always forced her to pick out clues and reasons for the dumbest things.

The curtains were green because the author liked green, it wasn't a symbol of death. Holland's thoughts got away from her.

However, this time around the teacher was for the most part good at keeping the classes attention. The woman told jokes along the way and Holland thought it was rather nice. She could tell the professor genuinely liked her job, something she didn't see all that often with passed teachers.

The professor was in her early sixties with mostly white hair apart from the small streak of baby pink, her caramel complexion, and vibrant blue eyes seemed more youthful than half of the class.

However what made the woman unique was her light chuckle after she told one of her jokes, it was one of the contagious laughs that reminded Holland of her grandmother, but without the light fear that made its way out.

Holland's grandmother was nice but the look in her eyes sometimes could make anyone cower in fear.

"Now, I am going to start a war between you and your classmates. I want to know how many monsters we have in total and how many civilized people are present. Now, listen closely because I will only say this once. Do you put your cereal in the bowl before the milk or the milk in before the cereal?"

The class was in an uproar as if it were France in 1894 and the class was Alfred Dreyfus being charged for treason. Everyone, of course, had their opinion and the teacher smiled sweetly. "Good, half of my class is filled with monsters," she muttered sarcastically before dismissing us all with a grin and a: "Get the hell out of here."