Noelle
I sat on a cold plastic chair in the lecture hall as Professor Cobb spoke passionately about the course syllabus and the punishable act of cheating. A boy walked in, twelve minutes late for class, looking out of place. He seemed calm and collected, but not cocky. He carried himself with hunched shoulders and alert eyes, a strange combination that would have looked weird if he wasn't completely beautiful. But he was completely beautiful. He had bright blue eyes and small smirking lips. His eyebrows were slightly arched, creasing his forehead.
"I-I had a doctor's appointment." He explains himself to Dr. Cobb, handing her a slip of paper. She nods for him to sit down and he scans the seats for a vacant spot. Once he finds one, he starts climbing the stairs. He stops at my row. There is an empty chair next to me. He's walking towards me. Whatdoidowhatdoidowhatdoi-
"Hi," He smiles, speaking in a thick British accent, "May I sit here?"
"Yep. Totally. Sure." I realize that my backpack is occupying the seat, "Oh. Sorry. Lemme just...Lemme just move my bag..."
He chuckles as he flops down, "I'm Ronald-"
I burst out laughing and then stop, noticing how rude I'm being, "I'm so sorry...You just.."
"Ronald seems more like the name of an old man who enjoys playing golf and chess? Yeah, I know. 'Sucks being named after my granddad, sometimes," He shoots beams of rainbows and flowers and butterflies with his smile and I can't help, but melt a little inside, "Most people just call me Ronnie."
"Not Mr. McDonald?" I ask in mock surprise.
"No... I'm afraid of clowns. And childhood obesity."
"Hmm...Ron Weasley?"
"I'm not a ginger." He pulls lightly at the very brown hair on top of his head.
"Yeah...Well, I'm all out of alternative nick-names." I shrug.
"What's your name, again?"
"I'm Noelle. Can't do much with that."
After a pause, "What about Christ-girl?" He suggests.
I stifle a laugh, "What?" I ask, confused.
"Like..you know, Christmas? 'The first Noel?' Do you get it?"
"See, now I do. But you can't just say, 'Christ-girl' and expect me to understand. That, my friend, was the worst nick-name fail in the history of bad nick-names."
"Ugh. You're making me feel self-conscious about my creativity skills. I'm horrible at these kind of things." He shakes his head, looking down.
"It's okay, Mr. Ronald McDonald Weasley. You'll get better."
