Chapter 5

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"Riptide"

- Vance Joy

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Rose squinted against the streams of sunlight shining into the room. She stretched her arms over her head, as she slowly opened her eyes to look at his alarm clock.

7:48

"Holy shit." Rose sprang up, and threw her covers off of her. She rolled off her bed hastily, nearly tripping and ran to the bathroom.

Class started in 20 minutes, and it was a 15 minute walk.

She grabbed her white converse, and her messenger book bag, stuffing last nights project into it. She grabbed her glasses and shoved them into her face. She grabbed her house key and nearly sprinted out of the door.

She walked as fast as she could. She looked down at her self. she was wearing black tights and a large, baggy cream colored sweater. She had no make up and no contacts. as she walked to the South hall she ran her fingers through her hair, trying to pull out some of her tangles.

As she came closer to the South Hall, she picked up her pace and in no time she was inside the building running along other students who were late.

She arrived at the her journalism classroom. and as quietly as she could opened the door. The professor was still talking, and she kept her head down not looking at either the professor or the students.

"Class started 8:10, miss" boomed a voice, that made Roses head snap to the teacher, and his eyes widened. Rose turned bright red. Coach Pruitt was no longer in his sweats and sneakers, he was dressed in khaki pants and a white button up. He stared at her for a moment before he cleared his throat and motioned to the desks. "Just, um. Take a seat and try to be on time." he finished, his voice straining.

Rose simply nodded and made her way to closest open seat. She walked towards the seat next to Brody Partridge, the biggest man whore in class. He gave her a lazy grin, and she rolled her eyes.

When she passed his chair to go the seat on his right she felt a hand touch her bottom.

She stopped, backed up a few paces then smacked his head as hard as she could with her hand.

The class erupted in laughter and even Coach Pruitt chortled. Brody rubbed his head and blushed beet red. Rose, satisfied, took her seat next to him, quietly.

Coach Pruitt smiled up at her, as she moved her hair to one side of her neck and took out her note book and pen.

"As I was saying," He went on, "I'll be filling in for Professor DeMaine, as she is currently very pregnant, and won't be able to come to work. So I will be taking over her Journalism classes. My name is Professor Pruitt, I majored in journalism when attended UV. I'm actually coaching soccer, as well . . ." He lingered and his eyes slid to Rose once again. She pulled the sleeves of her sweater so they covered her palms as she clutched the hem. it's something she always did when she got nervous.

He began his lecture on the paucity of international news. His teaching was average nothing special. His gave facts and good tips. Rose wrote down as much as she could. Sometimes his gaze would slip to her, and she would get uncomfortable again.

She couldn't help but notice how handsome he was. He was a presence of a manly aurora. He has dirty blonde hair cut short against his head and a slight stubble. He was tall too, at least 6ft. He's was strong looking and lean that could make any girl fall at his feet.

He was just a goddamn perfect human specimen.

***

Teaching his first period class with Rose sitting in the fourth row was the most mortifying two hours of RJ's life.

He didn't know whether to make eye contact with Rose or focus on something else. The girls in the front quite obviously kept trying to get his attention asking the most ridiculous questions and then giggling, "Oh, that was a stupid question," He tried so hard not to roll his eyes that he would grit this teeth to the point where he'd thought they had cracked.

Rose had looked tired, with no heavy make up like the girls seated in front. And she had glasses! Who knew, right?

Just when everyone cleared out of the room, his phone rang.

"Hello?" He answered

"Hey, honey." Said his younger sister.

He smiled. "Hey Mary, how've you been."

"Fine, Daemon's got the flu, so I get to stay home for the next week holding his puke bucket by his bed."

RJ chuckled. "How fun"

"Ooh. I forgot to ask how's your new job? I heard your back in Virginia again."

"Mom tell you?" He groaned, running a hand over his face.

"Mom tells me everything. So spill. How's the campus life?" Mary pressed.

"Um, nothing special. I'm coaching soccer with Whitey and teaching journalism--"

"So your practically repeating college?" Mary cut in, laughing.

"Sure, kid. I'm repeating." he smiled

"Are you going to your anger management classes?" she asked in a small voice.

"Uhhhh, yea." He drawled. Only his family knows about his anger problem, and taking meds help but not as much.

"You're not." she stated in a flat voice.

"I just haven't found a class but I'll go to one. I promise."

"Okay, just keep me updated on college life." Mary sighed into the phone, as RJ started collecting his things for his lunch break. "And call your mother, god dammit. She's going nuts abut you."

"Will do." he laughed slipping his messenger bag over his shoulder, and grabbing his keys.

"Aw, shit. Daemon missed the freaking can. I gotta go, love you."

"Love you too. Say hi to Marcus for me." He snorted

"Yea, bye."

"Bye, Mary."

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