Moving On

Eleven

ELEVEN
S a n d r a

I did my best to listen to my professor. I really did.

I was with him up until he was babbling about how Diocletian and Constantine became the leaders of the West and Eastern Empires of Rome after it split in half, and that Byzantium or Constantinople is now known as Istanbul in Turkey, wherein the country's religion is mostly Islam, but was sort of like the birth place of Roman Catholicism in some ways. Our professor uses the word "ironic" to describe it.

I know what you're thinking: this subject sucks. It does suck, and I have to take it every Friday for the rest of the first term of the academic year from 7 to 9AM. Wow. But it interests me a bit because we studied about the Greeks and Romans while I was in Talawanda, so I've got back up for this shit. Thank God I switched schools!

Anyway, I was with him up until that point and that point only, because I was thinking of what will Carly say to me later this afternoon. I got that phone call from her last Sunday, and it's been eating me until today, the dreaded day, Friday.

What will she say to me? What the hell will she say to me?

That's what been playing over and over inside my head for a couple of days now. When I eat, I brush my teeth, fix my bed, every freaking thing I do, I hear my subconscious repeating those lines inside my brain. I think I liked it better when Luke broke my heart.

Is it bad? Is it important? She wouldn't call me using Luke's cell if it's not important, would she? It continues.

"Sandra."

Suddenly, it's not my subconscious that I hear but the voice of my professor. He's standing right in front of my desk, looking at me intently through those thick-framed glasses. For an old guy, he's pretty intimidating.

"Well?" He demands.

Fuck. "What was the question again, Sir?" I ask.

"I wasn't asking anything." Double fuck. His posture straightens up a tad bit more, obvious that he's pleased with himself by catching me not paying attention to how the Ottoman Turks invaded Byzantium and what not (I knew what he was discussing because that's what the slide being projected in front had).

"Oh. Sorry."

"Miss Queenly," he said in a very superior tone, "It's your first year in college and you are very excited because you've got your whole life ahead of you, are you not?"

Not really, I wanted to say. I'm just trying to forget someone, but hey, I'll take what you said. But of course I didn't.

I'm not trying to be one of those students who deem themselves as the "cool kids" because they talk back to their teachers and they don't give a damn about their grades because they're so filthy stinking rich, they probably don't even need to go to school anymore. They could drop out anytime and still be able to have hot food served before them and a roof above their heads. And that's because their daddies or mommies are CEOs or something. Fuck them. They don't understand the value of stuff because they don't have to work hard for anything.

I just nod in response to my professor.

"I know that you're very gifted, Miss Queenly. I've seen your report cards. Not just in Talawanda, but in your other school. In Columbus." Why did he have to mention Columbus? He continues, "Yeah, that's right," he says as he turns to everyone else. "I do intensive research for my students."

Talk about weird! But I just nod again, urging him to continue sharing to us his weirdness.

"And you," he turns back to me (great!), "Queenly, you in particular, caught my attention. My eyes couldn't believe your outstanding units in Social Studies! I thought, 'Ah, finally. A students who cares about society,' and that was my theory why you took International Studies."

Not really, I wanted to say again. For crying out loud, I just wanted to travel the world and get paid for it. But apparently that isn't what my course is about. Too bad I wasn't informed before I filed in admission.

I look at the time on my laptop. 8AM.

I heave a deep sigh as my professor goes on babbling on about the units of every last one of his students, including Austin. Huh. I almost forgot that that dweeb was in class. I thought I heard him say last night that he's going to ditch the first World Religions class of the term. Guess he was too chicken to actually do it.

So I sat a little bit straighter, and accepted the fact that there is still one more hour ago before this class ends and I have a few more hours to prepare myself for the "talk" of the century.

Unfortunately, that "talk" is with Carly.