When Mom mentioned that Oxford Avenue was closer to school, I'm certain she meant it's closer when driving with Caden because, on a bicycle, I have to admit the distance is quite challenging. Before heading to school, I made a quick stop at Starbucks and picked up my favorite nitro cold brew with sweet cream. I love it because it's low in calories, including sugar, and the cream is absolutely amazing.
Filled with excitement, I made my way to school, still in awe of the campus, despite having seen it numerous times before. The thrill of knowing that I'm finally attending this university courses through my veins, making me feel on top of the world as I ride Jake's Kona bike.
Our first class was an introduction to psychology, and I'm already looking forward to it. I've never been late to school, and I'm determined to maintain that record in college.
To be honest, I'm still surprised that my alarm woke me up in the living room but failed to rouse Caden from his deep slumber. When I left home, he was peacefully sleeping on my bed, as if he didn't have a class to attend. It's infuriating how he takes everything for granted. This is my dream, and he's just living it to bring me down.
The only upside to him not waking up earlier is that I had the freedom to use the shower without any interruptions and get dressed without feeling belittled. That's what Caden strives to make me feel whenever he's awake.
Interestingly enough, I didn't let him get away with what he did to me last night. Oh no! I snuck out and took the books he had brought yesterday. So, on one hand, I'm relieved that I don't have to worry about not having books on my first day of class, but on the other hand, I'm nervous about how Caden might react.
Back in high school, when he intentionally broke my laptop and I borrowed his as a replacement, he stormed into my lecture and threw a fit, claiming that I stole his belongings. He even called me a derogatory term in front of the whole class, fully aware that it could get him detention.
Well, these days, Caden has upgraded to being a calm, emotionless bully. He no longer screams in my face like he used to. Instead, he launches his attacks with nothing more than a smirk.
By the time I arrived at class, my face was flushed. I couldn't help but feel proud of myself for making it to my dream university and being in my dream class. I've always wanted to understand people, and if I'm completely honest, my motivation comes from wanting to understand why some people can be friendly while others happen to be like Caden.
"Is this seat taken?" I asked a guy sitting in the first row. He had brown eyes and brown hair and was nervously chewing on his pen.
"Yeah," he nodded when he looked up at me.
Just as I was about to take a seat, a girl sat down on my right, sandwiching me in the middle. She had a strong smell of garlic, which was quite repulsive considering there were other available seats. But she chose to subject me to her pungent aroma early in the morning.
Before I could think of an alternative, a tall guy with a full beard walked in front of the classroom.
"Why is my class so empty?" And he happened to be the lecturer.
Perfect!
The whole class began to murmur. Yes, our professor was young and extremely attractive. He was dressed formally and carried a brown suitcase.
"I suppose it would be better if I explained how I work with students. But first, you can call me Professor Ian," he introduced himself.
"After each class, there will be assignments, and I will frequently assign topics for you to work on either individually or in groups. I expect all of you to work hard because this is the foundation of psychology, and if you fail to keep up, you'll consider your major a significant failure," he said while taking out some notes and textbooks. "I won't tolerate a disruptive class or tardiness." Just as Professor Ian uttered the word 'tardiness,' the door swung open.
YOU ARE READING
Bully stepbrother
Teen FictionBOOK 1 in the Drowning/Bully Standalone Series. WARNING: This book contains intense bullying, explicit scenes, triggering language, violence, and psychological content. "You need to call off this party," I boldly told my stepbrother in the kitchen...