Finding Marcel

>5<

Chapter Five

As I took the key out of the ignition, I prepared myself to be impaled by rain. It wasn't falling too hard, it was the kind of rain that falls in the spring; the kind that made you want to sit on your porch with a good book and a cup of tea.

Unfortunately, I had neither as I stepped outside. Other students and teachers clutched folders and expensive textbooks to their chests, trying to protect them from the water while they rushed towards shelter. I followed quickly behind, thanking a boy with long blond hair for holding the door for me.

It seemed perfect timing to stop by the on-campus cafe and get a coffee, so I turned left down a hall that lead to just that. The tiled floor was wet from muddy shoes, including my own sodden Keds.

"Becca?"

I turned around just in time to see Linda slip, then regain her balance before she could fall. I bit back a smile, trying not to be rude. "It's Bella, actually."

She giggled, running a hand through her wet hair. "Sorry, I'm bad with names. Tell me you've at least slipped once on this floor today," she questioned, making her way over to me again.

I shook my head. "I just got here, but I'm likely to slip at some point." It seemed like my clumbsiness was handed down to me by my dad, who was always tripping, running his head into things, or walking into closed doors. Once, on a vacation in Florida, he threw a coconut up into a tree to try to get the others down. The first one fell right into his hands, and the others came down right onto his head.

"Are you heading towards the coffee shop?" Linda asked. I noticed her intense gaze on the ground, watching carefully to avoid the dirty puddles as we walked.

"Yeah, I was just going to get a drink before class."

"Speaking of class. . . What do you think of Professor Styles?" She was the only student to refer to him as Professor Styles, instead of just Mr. Styles -how he introduced himself.

"What do I think of him?" I repeated, a little taken aback from her question. "I think. . . He's a great teacher, and he's. . . Um, nice."

Linda pouted in a way only she could, with her mouth turned down a bit and her bottom lip stuck out slightly. It was the most pitiful thing I had ever seen.

"Well, what do you think of him?" I asked. We were in line at that point, with four people in front of us. The smell of coffee beans made my mouth water, and I wished I was at the front of the line.

"I don't want to be disrespectful or rude, but he is so attractive! I mean, his flawless hair, sharp jaw line, and those eyes, you just melt inside when he's looking at you."

I pursed my lips, nodding slowly. Two people were then in front of us, I noted.