College, Paris, and Unplanned Relationship(s)

It Doesn't Count

I had finally made it to my last class before lunch and it was English.  Even though I loved English and it was one of my favorite subjects, I had forgotten to eat breakfast and I was starving.  Vince and I had a sort of tradition for the first day of school no matter what year it was, but since he had met me he had always bought me lunch on the first day of school.  We had originally met because it was the first day of school during elementary school one year and I had forgotten my lunch money.  As I was sitting sadly and without food, Vince, who was the new kid at the school, bought himself and myself lunch.  He plopped himself beside me and began chatting without any sort of introduction.  He was just that kind of guy, and being younger or older did not change that fact.  It stemmed our now tradition where every year on the first day of school he buys me lunch.  Even though I have insisted before on paying for us or even just for myself, he always buys.  He claims it is his duty as my longtime best friend.  I was too lazy to fight him about it anymore, and I liked food.  Besides, I was now thinking about that all you could eat pizza too, and I was thinking that at this rate I would perhaps out-eat Vince.

If the class was anything besides English, I would have had no will to focus at all.  Yet, it was one of my favorite classes and it was the first day so I could manage to concentrate a little longer.

The professor walked into the classroom, and she was a lady that looked kind of like one that you would find in Sesame Street.  She had long blond hair that was pulled up into a ponytail on the bottom of her head and a skirt that was equally long.  The skirt was patterned like a carpet bag and the shirt she wore was a plain rouge color that somewhat matched the rest of her outfit.  She was fairly young looking nonetheless, and as I observed her she pushed her thick rimmed brown glasses up on the bridge of her nose.  She looked up at all of us and offered us a smile that held the level of optimism that only a new professor would still hold.

"Hello, all," she started, "I will be your professor.  My name is Miss Waters, but please refer to me as Professor Waters."  I was struck right away by how nasal her voice was, but she spoke softly and that made it sound a little nicer.  "I am new to this school as I am sure many of you are, so please be kind to me.  In the meantime, I suppose we can start class by going through the syllabus.  At the end of the class, I will announce your partners and the project that you will join them in creating this semester.  Anyone have any questions right away?"

I buried my head in my hands.  If the syllabus wasn't bad enough already, she had also mentioned a project.  It took a lot of internal power not to groan aloud.  She spent the rest of the class period talking about the syllabus, and from the sounds of it the partners that she assigned to us would be semester long.  I hoped that my partner would at least do some of the work.  I was quite used to having useless partners who did nothing, so at this point I just hoped for someone who would do ten minutes of work.

Whether that was a reference to a class partner or a romantic partner made no real difference.

Finally the class was close to ending, and with the syllabus complete Miss Waters clapped her hands together.

"We are now to the fun part of class ladies and gentleman," she almost sang.  "I am going to assign your partners, and upon doing that please go and find a seat next to them so you can introduce yourselves.  As I mentioned in the syllabus, your first assignment will be due next week so I would get acquainted and find a time in which you can meet."

My sight wandered across the room.  The girl near the back looked a little too occupied with her phone to make a good partner.  The guy with the glasses and blond hair seemed like a good bet.  The jock was a no.  The ROTC guy was also a no.  The girl in the sweats and volleyball shirt seemed like she would be nice, but if she was an athlete she would also be busy.  The guy in the row behind me seemed like a fuck boy.