The Orientation

Chapter One

"And that class, ends Chapter Five."

The professor proclaimed, closing the textbook in his hand. "Now, don't forget, Next week Friday is your test. It will be on what we've gone over numerous times in class during lecture, and given the depth of the detail I provided for you, I'm expecting you all to pass with flying colours."

A few groans and sighs joined the sounds of desk chairs scraping across the floor along with backpacks being hefted onto shoulders with airy grunts.

"Mr. Beck?" A female student who had her hand raised called out.

The man in question looks over, adjusting his wire rimmed glasses on the bridge of his nose. "Yes, Ms. Clay?" He said with a sigh. Shame, he had hoped to leave with no error, wishing to get started on grading papers. Knowing his students and their IQ level, he really didn't want to prolong disappointment.

Amelia Clay, a bright young girl, perhaps too smart for her own good. Mr. Ahote Beck usually had one complaint regarding her character; the fact she always had three questions to ask by class end.

Amelia smiles, tucking a piece of brown hair behind her ears, "Just to be sure, sir, the material that will be tested on is the vocabulary and the generals from World War II right?"

"Yes, that's correct," The professor answered, placing his textbook away as the next question was asked almost immediately.

"And what about the specifics?"

"Generals regarding the allies and the axis, along with their distinct strategies." Ahote answered once again, bending down and grasping the briefcase handle.

"Ok, one more." Amelia proclaimed, flinching when the teacher turned a stern glare at her. "R...really, it's the last one. I promise." With a visible sigh and wave of the hand, she was granted permission to ask her last question. "Ok, here goes. What Chapter was this on again?"

"...Chapter Five, Miss Clay. Now if you'll excuse me."

The professor adjusts his tie, gripping the suitcase with his hand, taking a few strides past the young girl. "I have more pressing matters to attend to."

Ahote Beck, appearing to be mid to late thirties, always professionally dressed. Though stern, he had a somewhat enjoyable personality, making him a favorite amongst his students, despite the undesired workload. Passing by a reflective surface in the hall, he smoothed his raven black hair in place. Piercing green eyes looked back at him coupled with his coy smirk.

Even to himself, he had to admit he looked good.

Though it wasn't always so, even now this was simply a guise to allow him to live a normal life. Ha, normal, that was a good one.

Ahote continues his walk down the hallway, listening to the usual after class chatter. Mostly complaints on upcoming projects, homework, tests, broken hearts, dreams, blah, blah, blah. It was all so mundane, but he loved it, loved the humans that willingly accepted him as one of their own. Loved the ignorance they contained, regardless of the level of education they may possess.

So advanced, yet so primitive.

He caught the view of a familiar face and roughly pats the male on the back as he passes.

"Afternoon, cocoa puff."

The man in question let out a grunt and straightened up. An African man of a tall stature, broad shouldered, baby blue eyes a mama would die for.

"Professor Beck." He said sternly.

The professor looks over his shoulder at him, flashing a white toothed smile.