I should say that I had nostalgic feelings about it. I hardly slept last night; my nerves kept waking me up every 30 minutes. I finally woke up around 4 a.m., but the cold couldn't let me take a shower immediately; I had to steam water before I took a bath. The Minnesota cold is something I still can't get used to, and I doubt I'll ever get used to it. It's been three long years since we left sunny Arizona for this chilly place, and honestly, I doubt I'll ever
adapt to it. I kept contracting cold-related illnesses, from flu to sneezing and pneumonia.
I dragged myself out of bed at four in the morning. The first thing on my agenda was a hot shower to combat the cold. Shivering under the water, I couldn't help but reminisce about the warmth of Arizona. Oh, Arizona, that is just a place perfect for me. The sunny weather, the sights of the cliffs and deserts-hmm, how much I missed that place.
Well... By 7 a.m., I was all dressed and ready to go. Mom, in her ever-loving and slightly overprotective way, had packed breakfast for me like some kid. It's quite funny; she still treats me like a kid, even though I'm 18 now and heading off to college. Well, I won't blame her; I'm all she had. Dad left us when I was five. The bastard left without even looking back; we were probably a headache he wanted to cure. Well, I hear he has his business and is doing well for himself, but I don't give a fuck about his cursed ass.
Mom came to me, kissed me on the forehead, then handed me the breakfast she had packed for me, then said her usual "go well" talk: "Take care of yourself, baby; do not look for trouble; and let trouble not come near you; focus on your studies, and not boys." I literally joined her in saying it word for word; it has become an anthem for her, and she will always say that to me whenever I'm leaving home.
I arrived at the college campus feeling like the new kid on the block. Well, I was literally just the new kid on the block. The place was buzzing with students, most of them already forming little groups. I wondered if I'd ever get along; being an introvert means that I hardly make friends. I also wondered how I could find my way around. I knew I had a psychology class this morning in hall 103, but with so many halls around, I had my doubts about locating it. So, I began my search, closely examining the wall numbers. I counted the halls as I walked past them. Halls 99, 100, 101, and 102
And finally, after some wandering, I found Hall 103. I peeked inside before entering, relieved to see that it wasn't too crowded. I'd just faint if I had to walk in with boys looking at me, especially if they were handsome ones. I ventured in, scanning for a vacant seat, hoping to remain unnoticed. You see, I'm a chronic introvert; I literally run from friends. No wonder mom is my only best friend, but trust me, I can be quite the chatterbox once I'm comfortable with people.
I sat on the vacant seat somewhere near the back, trying to blend in like a chameleon, but it might seem as though today was not the day to hide for me, because just when I was blending in, a boy walked in. He walked straight to where I was seated, trying to hide from the eyes of others. He then took the seat behind me. He was undeniably handsome, but he had a certain femininity about him. I do not find men without biceps sexually attractive. This dude was very handsome, but he lacked the essence of sexual attraction. Soon enough, our lecturer arrived, and her quirky humour put me at ease.
She stood with the marker on the board, poised, looking at us, one after the other, as if she were trying to get a head count. "This is the psychology class; I want to believe you are all here for this class. Feel free to leave if you think you are in the wrong class," she said and waited, still looking at us for a while. After seeing that no one got up, she took a purse for a while, then sighed and said,
"Thank God, it's quite embarrassing to be that one person to leave because he or she is clumsy enough to be in the wrong class." We all burst into laughter. I had a feeling I'd enjoy this class.
She went straight to the board and started writing, and we began taking notes, and that's when I realised my pen had run out of ink. I shook my empty pen, trying to magically make the inkless pen write. Frantically, I started searching my bag, searching everywhere as if I had any spare pen saved anywhere. But I was suddenly saved by the guy behind me, who seemed almost like a girl. He quietly placed a pen on my desk, and I turned to thank him with a cheeky wink. The timing was impeccable.
As our teacher continued with her lecture, I found myself completely engrossed. But, in a moment of distraction, I noticed that I had the borrowed pen in my mouth, licking and sucking on it like those porn videos where one sexy girl sucks the dick of a super hot man. Mortified, I quickly brought it down, praying the owner hadn't seen me.
When the class finally ended, I gathered my courage and turned to return the pen. However, he didn't say a word to me. Instead, he gave off a strange vibe, almost defensive, when I called out to him to hand it back.
As I handed over the pen, I couldn't help but wonder about the mysterious boy behind me. He was intriguing, and for some reason, I had a feeling that this chance encounter was the beginning of something unexpected in my college journey.