Abstract

Chapter 16

My alarm buzzes, surprising me. I haven't set my alarm in quite a while, often waking up at somewhere around noon. 

The alarm says "CLASSES" and I immediately remember that I start college today. I tug off my pajamas, changing quickly into a new white dress that I bought. 

I've always been one to try to impress people. Mostly it's because of my parents, how they never thought much of my achievements. Also, in middle and high-school I didn't get much male attention. Most people thought of me as a person who is too good for everyone, and I sometimes thought of myself that way also. 

Now that I've started college, I defitenly want to impress all of my new professors. Getting a good education has always been a goal of both my parents and I. 

I try to ignore the fact that I can hear two pairs of feet walking around upstairs, as the thought of the beautiful girl and Harry flood my mind. 

My jealousy is getting to my head, and I nearly forget to brush my teeth before leaving the house. 

My vespa gets me to my campus in only a few minutes, and I'm able to sit outside. I take a seat on a bench near the building of my first course, buzzing with excitement over An Introduction to Creative Writing.

From across the small courtyard, a stranger eyes me. He's simply gorgeous, but my personality gets the best of me and I look away. When I look up again, he's smiling at my embarrassing gesture, and I can't help but laugh at my own self. 

He walks over to me sitting near me on the bench. 

"Bonjour,"

"Bonjour," I respond, my fingers nervously twiddling with the fringe of my purse. 

"Ah, from America?" He says in English. 

I smile. "Yeah,"

"Never been. I'm Rolland." He extends a hand, which I take. 

"Adella." I respond. 

"And you're a freshmen, Adella?" He asks me.

"Yeah, today is my first day." The man is simply stunning, and I can feel my ears turn pink.

"Which class are you heading too?" Rolland asks.

"An Introduction to Creative Writing."

He gets up, and I follow. "As am I," 

We walk together, and he helps me find the class. On the way, we talk about modern literature, and how the books like the classics are slowly dying out.

The the classroom is huge, but not many people are seated yet. I look over to Rolland, hoping that he asks me to sit with him. We get along great, and have quite a bit in common, even though I barely know  him.

"Why don't you take a seat and I'll be back in a few minutes?"

I sit alone, but it still feels like I'm waiting. If Harry takes classes he might have his next class with me, and I can't wait to flaunt my new relationship with Rolland in front of him. He might think that he's the only one that can move on from our relationship (which never even existed, I remind myself). 

The lecture is about to start, and Rolland still hasn't returned. People keep trying to ask for his seat, but I deny them, telling them that he should be here soon. Although, about two minutes before the class I let a small girl with glasses have his chair. 

I'm surprised to see Rolland walk into the class room, hurrying out from the hallway that we entered in. He walks down the aisle, before turning and facing many surprised faces. 

 In French, he says. "Hello class, my name is Rolland Belanger, but you may call me Professor Belanger. Over the next fifteen weeks, I am going to be examining your talents and seeing whether you can make it in the competitive business of being a creative writer. Shall we get started?" 

..

"Adella, what would you say is the first thing to do when writing a novel, especially your first one?" 

I purse my lips, not expecting his attention. "I think you have to find your spark, something that you're passionate about." 

He nods a few times, stroking his chin in thought. "That is not always the case, though. Often, the spark chooses you, whether you like it or not. Many believe that they have found their spark, but they are lying to themselves. You're passion will tear you apart, you'll become so involved that everything else seems to not matter. Sparks are not tame." 

"I will leave you pondering this, what is your spark? Because I guarantee it's not what you think it is. Write a one page essay discussing why you believe this to be your spark." The bell rings, and everybody beings shuffling around. He signals for me to come over to him, and I pack my laptop into my bag before walking over. 

"Sorry I didn't tell you, I wanted to see your face." He laughs.

"It was certainly a surprise." I'm kind of embarrassed, because of what I said on the way here about modern literature. He obviously has ten times the knowledge than me.

"It's good to have you in my class, Adella; you have potential." 

"Thank you Professor Belanger." 

I turn to leave, but as I walk out of the room he says. "Adella, call me Rolland." 

..

Harry's POV

I'm not sure why I even signed up for this class, it's going to be incredibly dull. I'd rather just paint my own shit, not learn about paintings from decades ago. 

I walk to the campus, pausing outside of the main building. My headache is driving me crazy, and the buzzing in my pocket from Marie is not helping. 

I slept with her to defy Adella, I know I did. If I hadn't been drunk, I probably wouldn't have done it, but I'm self destructive and I want her to go down with me as long as she refuses to admit she's mine. 

I almost believe I'm still drunk when I see her talking to a stranger as they exit the class. How the fuck has she replaced me already?

Before I remember that we've stopped whatever relationship that we had before, I'm walking over and taking her by the waist. 

"Hello," I say to the man, who is dressed much to fancy for a stupid class. Adella jumps slightly, surprised by my sudden appearance back into her life. 

"Am I interrupting something?" I accuse her. 

"No, I was just talking to my professor, Mr. Belanger." 

Of course, her stupid professor has a thing for her. 

"It's nice to meet you, but call me Rolland." He tells me.

"No," I reply, and Adella elbows me in the side. 

Adella backs out of my arm on her waist, turning back to Rolland. "I've got to get to my next class, I'll see you around though."

He smiles, but I trail closely behind Adella as she tries to get away from me.

"Talk to me." I demand, angry that she's not giving the jealous response that I expected.

She turns on her heels, a look of disbelief on her face. "Oh please, you want me to talk to you? Fine. I'm sick and tired of you playing me. I'm tired of the breaking in, and I'm tired of you trying to convince me that you care. You don't, I know that for a fact. I'm tired of how every time I disagree with you, you flaunt your stupid affairs with whatever slut you land in my face. You know that I can hear you upstairs, and that's why you do it! I'm not an idiot, Harry, and I'm tired of you treating me like I am." 

She walks away, and I'm left feeling very confused on what to do next.