Love After Love

Chapter IV

It is not my alarm clock, but Deirdre coming back from her daily yoga session, who wakes me up. She comes in covered in a thin layer of sweat, and clearly beaming with energy. How can she be, with such little sleep? It's like caffeine runs in her veins instead of blood. I feel like I'm dying, and I'm not the one that went to a party.

"Oh, I'm sorry! I thought you would already be awake" She exclaims, wearing a worried look.

I turn to look at the clock. 7:43. I have only slept for like four hours, that would mean Deirdre maybe slept two and a half. My first class is at 9:00, which gives me enough time to take things slow and calm from this moment.

"It's not a problem, my alarm clock was going to sound in like ten minutes anyways. More importantly, are you hungry? Because I sure as hell am."

"I am, just let me take a quick shower to wash the sweat off and we can go eat together."

While she showers, I get everything ready for my first day. First I dress in a pair of black jeans combined with a fresh white T-shirt, after that I put on my black ankle boots, which make me look like two inches taller. I untangle my shoulder-length electric blue hair, which I got painted right after graduation and then retouched the week before leaving. I redefine my brows and frame my eyes, first by applying winged black eyeliner and then my elongating mascara. I make sure all my gear for the day is in my new bag and finally feel ready for my first day. I hear the shower water turn off, and a few minutes later Deirdre comes out, already dressed and with her hair styled. How does she do that? Her tight red curls always seem to be in their place, no matter the situation. I mean, I wish my hair looked like that for even a second!

"Ready?" she asks.

"As ready as I can be!" I reply nervously.

The cool thing about the cafeteria we frequent is that you can go in the kitchen and prepare your own food. Today, that results in scrambled eggs accompanied by several strips of bacon for me, and a really healthy-looking oatmeal bowl for Deirdre. We eat quickly, barely talking. I'm sure both of us are nervous, it's her first day at psychology and my first day at film production.

Parting for class is hard, I have not met anyone besides Deirdre yet. What if everyone hates me? My mind starts thinking of the worst possible outcomes of the day, they range from falling in front of everyone, to people laughing at my name, to much other things that are better kept inside my mind.

I pull my earphones out of the front of my bag and put them out, blasting The 1975's "Chocolate" as loud as they will go. I use my map, and after a few minutes I find the classroom. Inside, I see a group of scared looking people, none of who are talking. Maybe all of us realize we are in the same situation. They all stare at me as I walk by to a seat close to the back and the right side of the room. I feel like everything I do makes too much noise, in this silence you could hear a pin drop. And effectively, I can hear a pencil scratching the paper furiously from the other side of the room. I look up, searching for the responsible. My eyes meet a petite, pretty black girl wearing yarn braids. She wears such a look of concentration that makes me wonder what on earth she is writing about. I like her clothes; she is wearing a light yellow shirt combined with one of those short overalls and a pair of vans, which are also yellow. I continue imagining the different things she may be writing until who I suppose is the teacher comes in. He holds half an avocado in one hand and his head in the other. He has a disoriented look, as if he is in the wrong classroom. Maybe it's true what they say about college teachers being crazy, at least with high school teachers you didn't have to worry about them walking in with half an avocado in their hand. The half that holds the seed, mind you.