02┃first steps

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TWO

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TWO

F I R S T  S T E P S

early morning laughs

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             MY POUNDING FOOTSTEPS ECHOED out through the empty hallways.

My bag bounced against my back as I skilfully manoeuvred past students, trying to avoid getting one of their coffees spilled down my shirt in addition to my lateness. I wish I could say that this was a rare occurrence, but I can't.

The irony was that despite the many, many things that I couldn't do or just wasn't good at, punctuality was one of my specialties. It was part of the reason how I got the label as the strange, mysterious girl who was always in the classroom before you, sitting at the back, in the shadows. Unfortunately for me, Lauren Armelle did not share the same habit.

The very day she had been assigned to me as a roommate, was the day that I said goodbye to my good record. Every night she would set the alarm, promising that it was fine, that we had ample time in the morning, but without fail, every time, she was wrong.

But I suppose it could be worse. At least Lauren had good personal hygiene, which was achieved by, at a minimum, seventeen minutes in our shared bathroom. And I guess she did attempt to cheer me up by forcing me to sit and wait for her to layer makeup on my face whilst blasting One Direction.

Yeah, could have been worse.

After a million sorrys and excuse-mes, I found myself pushing open the door to my lecture hall, allowing myself a small sigh of relief. But you know how there would always be that one door that was in urgent need of some oiling? And you would think after having been late so many times, I would have known exactly which one it was.

Sadly, it had completely slipped my mind, and as I was beginning on my inconspicuous entrance, a loud creak broke the silence in there, and I felt every pair of eyes in the room turn and settle on me. I shut my own, trying to close the door as discreetly as I could whilst fighting back the blush creeping up my face.

One thing I did learn, though, was how to tune out the reprimands. So as I listened to Professor Atkinson drone on about the importance of good time management, I scanned the hall for an empty seat. It was just a couple rows in front of me, and an aisle seat, which was literally the jackpot of all classes.

As soon as he was done, I briskly made my way to the seat and flung myself down onto it, desperately trying to catch my breath and calm my heart.

"Good morning," a very recognisable soft, light voice said quietly to me.

Turning my head tiredly, I came face-to-face with a pair of all-too-familiar sparkling green eyes and a blinding smile. Honestly speaking, I was not surprised at all. To think, that just when I thought that my day had gone off to a bad enough start, fate decided to put me next to him.

But yes, like most things, it could have been worse.

So, I mustered up the best smile—or a grimace, to be more accurate—that I could in return to his greeting, before directing my attention to the lesson, lest I get called out. Again.

My plan was simple, really. Just ignore him for the whole lesson. I mean, don't get me wrong. I had nothing against him. I had no reason to, and frankly, I wouldn't dare to either. It was safe to say that Colin had garnered a reasonable sized fan club, and the last thing I needed was for them to be on my back.

The thing was, he made it so, incredibly hard to carry out my very, very basic plan.

Not only did he try and make conversation with me more than once, he also flashed some of those lopsided grins that only boys seemed to be able to manage at me every few minutes, which made me wonder if he was pranking me, or if that was just really how he was. Because I understand if you want to be polite and friendly, but there is a limit.

I got my answer, when he started answering Prof Atkinson's questions—accurately, may I add—with puns and jokes in his every response, and in the most annoyingly calm manner, each one making the entire class lose focus for a good five minutes whilst they tried to stop laughing.

Definitely pranking me.

Although, he seemed to be doing a pretty good job at it, because soon, I came to find myself holding back my snickers, resting my elbow atop the armrest and pressing the backs of my fingers against my lips in an attempt to cover up the smile that was threatening to break out on my face.

And it seemed that Colin had noticed this after his final answer that made everyone crack up all over again, since he had leaned back in his seat triumphantly, lacing his fingers together, elbows extended outwards and sitting on the armrests.

Then, and only then, did I consider another option. That maybe, he wasn't doing it for his own amusement. Maybe, just maybe, he was trying—very carefully, very subtly—to see past the mask that this strange, closed off girl had painted for herself. For what reasons, I didn't know.

But there was one quite concerning, and slightly frightening thing I knew for sure.

He was doing a pretty good job at that too. 

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