Perhaps (Book 1) | ✔

ACT I - Scene 2

Gloria's home — her bedroom

That night, I lied on my bed attempting to do all the homework I had received (Seriously?! Homework on the first day of classes?!); but I couldn't really focus on it. My mind was stuck on Professor Lee. I kept putting off the reading for his class on Wednesday, because every time I picked up the textbook for History of Theatre, his smiling face popped into my head. Any attempts I made at absorbing the information in the textbook were completely lost.

I had spent the rest of my afternoon and a good portion of the evening locked in a dance studio, trying to use dance to clear my head of him. But the clarity had only lasted as long as I was focused on my form and routine: the thoughts had inevitably returned as I walked home.

All I was able to think about now was...how soon can Wednesday come?

*

Accent Academy — Professor Lee's Classroom

I woke up a full hour earlier than usual Wednesday morning, and I spent the entirety of that extra hour in the bathroom getting ready for class. Normally, I just rolled out of bed and threw on whatever looked clean and was comfortable: yoga pants, sweatpants, loose shirts and tank tops with sport bras underneath—it really didn't matter so long as it didn't smell. But today, I opted to wear something different. I chose my favorite pair of denim shorts (after spending forty minutes making sure every hair on my legs was shaven off), and paired them with a white lace top my mother had bought for me over the summer (that still had the tags on it). Instead of my usual sneakers, I put a pair of strappy sandals on my feet. And my hair, which I normally kept in a ponytail, lazy braid, or a sloppy bun, hung down my back in carefully-styled waves. I finished up the look with the subtlest of eye makeups to make my eyes pop, and then stood back to judge.

I had to admit: I looked quite nice. After doing a few twists and turns before my mirror to check myself from every angle, I gave my hair one last fluff and left the house. As I walked towards campus (which was only a block away from the subdivision I lived in), I was surprised at how much I was looking forward to my classes.

Well, I was looking forward to one class, specifically.

However, by the time History of Theatre rolled around, I felt completely ridiculous.

Why had I spent so much time getting dolled up for a history class?! What was the point of it?! Especially when I had to go to the dance studio afterwards and begin practicing for the group project my Choreography class had already assigned?! Why feel the need to look nice? Wasn't comfortable always better? Just who was I trying to impress?!

Who are you kidding, Gloria. You know exactly who you're dressing to impress here...

Professor Daniel Lee.

Stepping into his classroom (thirty minutes early), I made a beeline for the desk I had sat at on Monday by the back window, but stopped when I touched the chair to sit down. His voice echoed in my mind once more:

"You should sit closer to the front next time so I don't miss you."

I stood still while I debated with myself: if I sat in the back, what if he was disappointed that I wasn't sitting closer to the front of the room? On the other hand, what if I sat closer to the front and actually suffered a heart attack the second his eyes turned towards me?

It was inevitable that the more reasonable side of me would lose this debate. I let go of the chair at the back desk and moved to the very front row of the classroom. Sitting down at the desk in the very center (can't get more "closer to the front" than that...), I pulled out my textbook, notebook, and pen; and I tried to act nonchalant. I even took out my granola and attempted to snack on it as students filed in, but my stomach was in too many knots.