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Chapter 118

If someone believed me
They would be
As in love with you as I am

— The xx, Angels

. . . .

My stomach is clenching—absolutely binding itself together—as I pull up to the towering school on my first day of university. It's a beautiful school, no doubt, but is it intimidating? Hell yes.

Harry had definitely calmed my nerves when he called me on the phone this morning as I was getting ready, but now I'm beyond terrified that I might fuck something up or make the wrong first impression on other students or my professors for the day. Maybe I wouldn't be so concerned about everything if I had one person at this place that I knew, but unfortunately, my life has proven to be filled with things to not turn in my favor.

Nevertheless, I gather my backpack from the passenger seat and breathe deeply as I use the map of the expansive school on my phone. People scatter the lawns and parking lots socializing or walking casually to where they need to be.

Despite how terrified I am and how sweaty my palms are, I can't help but stare in awe at how gorgeous this school truly is with its historic architecture and maintained courtyards. Just walking through the yards and the halls, people are either relaxing and listening to music with their laptops in their laps or frantically running around trying to find the class. Even though I wish I was at ease as some of these other people, I'm more of the second group—on the inside, at least.

I get to my first class of the day with ten minutes left to spare before it starts and walk into a room with around twenty or more other individuals seated with laptops or phones at their disposal. I spot a large section that's completely empty, and when I take my seat, the majority of others are watching shows on Netflix or typing on their computers. Several people are sitting in pairs or groups and all I can wonder is how they know people already. It can't be this common to have your whole group of friends be accepted into a prestigious school. I wish I had Harris with me; I miss him.

When the time finally turns to the next hour, the professor, a graying man most likely in his late fifties, introduces himself before diving into the basics of what defines psychology and why we picture the world the way we do. After taking notes in my notebook and listening to the professor inform us on the details of his knowledge on the subject, he dismisses us, and I continue panicking on the inside as I stare down at my phone to find where the hell my next class is located. Luckily, I have another hour before it actually starts, so if I get incredibly lost, I have time to make it up. But, the class isn't too difficult to find as I had to stop by a help desk to ask about that building where my linguistics class is located.

As the professor talks about how she got started developing her own research into speech production, my mind wanders elsewhere. I'm subtly observing the rest of my classmates. There are students my age and slightly older scattered around in the seats. Most of the students aren't sitting together, which as selfish as it sounds, makes me feel better so that I'm not the only one that has no one else to talk to or lean on for the comfort of having someone just being here. Several people a few rows down are online shopping, scrolling through Twitter, or playing a game on their laptops, completely ignoring the professor. I'm glad, for the feelings of our professor, that a majority of people have their attention on her, or at least their optical focus.

That class goes by just fine, however, it was slightly a drag then move on to the last class of the day. I leave campus at around one in the afternoon and stop at a nearby restaurant to get some lunch to take back to the apartment to begin an introductory assignment for my probability theory and statistics class that's due in two days.

When I get back, I set out my lunch and books for my homework on the coffee table. It's beginning to rain now; I'm just thankful that it didn't start while I was walking around campus. As I'm flipping through my textbook for my assignment, my dad calls to ask me about my first day and how my classes went. I tell him that it was fine, and I didn't have many troubles. We talk about future classes for tomorrow and one later in the week. The conversation transitions into me asking about everyone back home since I've last seen them two days ago. He says that the twins started school yesterday, and they're still deciding on which house they want, and that the move might be before the baby comes now.