Portion (Ongoing)

why me?

Next day
Apparently I didn't take that advice so seriously.

Here I was racing against the clock to class. If we're going to get close, I advise you to know that I'm really not a morning person. So I have no idea why I chose eight a.m. classes.

Hell, last night I could've sworn I set the alarm to six fifty. But then I do remember myself hitting the snooze button over and over again after everytime it rang.

I'm really satisfied that I decided to do the major stuff the night before like laying down my wig because I was in dire need of a protective style, taking a shower, and picking out my outfit.

I kept it simple with a white, long sleeved shirt, black Jean shorts with some rips that displayed my brown skin, and my black and white classic Adidas sneakers. After unplugging the flat iron, I grab my backpack and leave.

Bell was sleeping and didn't have a class, so I didn't dare bother her.

This time going to class the right way, I felt confident that I would make it. That was until I bumped into what fell into a wall as I was checking to see I had everything I needed in my bag. I looked up and it was a dark skinned man with the prettiest dark brown eyes. Why was there so much cute guys here? He sincerely smiled, "Oh, damn I'm sorry. Wasn't watching where I was going there."

My hand  found it's way running through my wig. "Its okay. It was mostly my fault. I can come off as a clutz." I started to ramble until I got a glimpse of the watch on his wrist. "Oh shit. What time is it?"

He looked at his watch and said, "Five minutes til eight, why?"

My face went to shock. "I got to go!" I went to run off.

Mama couldn't get no play right now.

Then to my dismay, people kept stopping me along the way. One girl handed out flyers, trying to get me to stop as she talked about global warming where I had to nicely decline and keep it moving. Then the merch booth tried to encourage me to buy a tshirt. Everything was in my freaking way, distraction after distraction.

Running down the hall, I saw the opened brown, wooden door. In front of it stood Professor in a dark blue denim shirt and teacher pants. He waited as all students pass by him to get into the classroom with a blank face, hands in his pockets. Then the bell rang, and he was in mid turn towards the door when I yelled an "Wait!".

Mr. Lockhart and I locked eyes for a moment, and I was sure for a moment that he will hold the door for me while accepting my hopefully final excuse. But he didn't. Even though he had a blank face, I could tell he enjoyed it when he grabbed the knob of the door and closed it shut.

He had the damn nerve to shut the door.

I sighed and was about to walk away when I heard the door reopen.

He stepped out and closed the door from behind him, holding a rather irritated expression. "Ms. Haynes, nice to see you out here. Although, I thought I made myself clear yesterday not to be late to my class." He quirked an eyebrow while folding his arms across his chest. His forehead shorten with wrinkle lines.

You're not the only one.

"Look Mr. Lockhart, you wouldn't believe what happened on the way-" I nervously laughed trying to ease up the tension, but stopped when it appeared silliness wasn't going to get me out of this.

"I don't want to hear it." His words came out very monotonous like Bell said."You know people usually blow off this class because they view art as inferior to the other subjects. A mere simple waste of time and money. Now by the way you have been late two times in a row does not make a good first impression at all. I want to know are you really committed to being in this class because if not you can go back to your dorm room. But hey, you need this class to graduate,not me, so it's none of my business." He shrugged with dismissal.

He may have been my teacher, but he wasn't going to talk to me like that.

"One thing I'll have you know about me, Mr. Lockhart is that I'm a lot of things, but I am not an child. So I'll appreciate it if you didn't talk to me in that matter. I'll say that art is my passion and that you can't determine whether someone is driven or not just because they are late literally two times. I have had some things come up, but I still made it to class didn't it?" I challenged him by copying his posture. "Better late than never. Now if you would please I certainly would like to go into the class that I paid for and do what I need to. But how can I do that if you're in the way?", I finished standing my ground with great authority. I was mentally flip my hair in his face. Well, wig.

A moment of silence went into the air before he said another word. He looked at me strongly, and I could tell through those cold eyes he challenged me also.

"Okay." He said in a very simple tone and turned around to open the door. "Go in and sit at your desk."

"Yes sir." Not another word was said as I passed by him and went to my seat in the front.

Maybe, just maybe Bell wasn't exaggerating.