Everything He's Not

Chapter five

“Welcome to the best class you will ever take.”

Those words and a handshake are the first things that meet me when I walk into my English lit. Class. I awkwardly shake the professors hand back, who is probably around the age of forty, and try to act like the fact he didn’t just shove his hand in my face bothered me.

    “Uh, hi” I mutter before quickly letting go of his hand. Usually teachers didn’t give  damn about their students.

Most just wait for you to pile in and then jump right into the lesson. This guy is like a big ball of sunshine and energy.

    I step out of the way so he can shake the girls hand behind me, and look up at the rows and rows of mostly empty seats. Choosing a seat is probably the most important thing you can do.

Choose wisely, hopefully your neighbor would be smart and helpful. If not, you could be sitting next to a hungover sorority chick.

    Sighing, I maneuver my books to my other arm and hurry to claim the empty seat in row three. There is only one other girl in the whole row and she is all the way down by the stairs. Setting my books onto the horribly crooked desk, I take in my new eccentric professor.

    He’s currently shaking hands with some distraught looking guy, that same bright smile on his face. His greying blonde hair is shaved so short he almost looked bald.

Actually, the guy isn’t really that good looking. He kind of reminded me of a dolphin. What with his long nose and horrible square glasses.

    The only thing that seemed to redeem him is his overly happy attitude. The guy’s personality made up where his looks couldn’t. From the moment he took my hand I knew this class was going to be more work than I first assumed bargained

    Letting out my breath, I take a seat the same time someone plops into the empty chair to my right. Jerking my gaze up, a guy around my sisters age runs a hand through his messy hair. Actually, messy could explain every inch of him.

His shirt  underneath his wrinkled jacket is inside out and a five o’clock shadow was growing along his jaw. He leans back, about to closer his eyes, when he catches me staring at me.

    Looking away, I drop my gaze to my books. Great, now I looked like a total freak.

Like what the hell? It’s just some guy who decided to take the seat. I didn’t need to look at everyone who came near me like they were some new species.

  Was this how my life was going to be? Was I going to look at guys like they were more than just, well, guys? If so, then I needed to give Mrs. Bricks a call. She told me this was going to be hard. Adjusting and everything. I just thought I was stronger.

   “Men!” Someone shouts to my left and when I look up I find Mile smiling down at me. Rolling my eyes, he points to the empty seat on my other side. “This seat taken?”

“It’s all yours.” I say, thankful for the familiar face.I have no idea how he has a freshmen class, but it’s better if I didn’t ask.

 His smile grows as he throws himself into the chair, making the metal squeak under the sudden weight. It seemed as if everything the guy did had to be a big show. He kind of reminded me of Laya.  

 “So whatcha think about Mr. Happy professor over there?” I flick my gaze to the professor and watch him shake a few more hands before turning my attention back to Mile.

   “Honestly?”

“That’s all I ever want Men.”

I raise my eyebrow. “You know Syd and men doesn’t rhyme right?”