Chapter 3

Andrea

“Drea, come on,” Killian, my ex-boyfriend is stalking me to my first-morning class. I sip the bottle of coffee I’d brewed in my apartment complex’s common kitchen. I wasn’t expecting Killian at the front door when I stepped out but worst things could have happened.

I ignore my dusty blond ex and add speed to my steps. Partly to get away from him and partly to arrive at class in time. I heard there was going to be a new professor taking over Professor Alec in our international film studies.

“Andrea, you can’t just break up over text and think I’d accept it,” Killian splutters.

It’s been over a month or two since I ended things with him. It’s the first time I’ve broken up with someone and they protest.

I should feel special. Like a girl who’s on top of the world after catching her crush’s attention. But Killian is not my crush. I’m not sure I loved him while we dated. I know I liked him and was attracted to him but they’re two different things.

I exasperate a sigh at his comment. When I texted him that I wanted to end our relationship, he was fine with it. Of course, he asked me questions and I answered them. He was fine with it.

He hasn’t disturbed me in the past month until this fine Tuesday morning. Why? Don’t tell me he misses me. The thought makes me cringe. He’s handsome and can pull any other girl if he wanted.

“Killian, I’m not in the mood and I’ve got 8 am soon,” I tell him, sidestepping a guy sitting on a curb in front of the academics building.

Killian rushes to my front to block my entrance into the building. A red supercar, which brand I cannot identify yet, swerves into the parking lot. The sound of the engine and the way the driver artfully manipulates the car into a straight position catches everyone’s attention. Including Killian's.

Boys and cars. I shake my head and use the opportunity to escape Killian, speed-walking into the building.

I know my college is filled with rich kids but I’ve not seen anyone with that kind of car on campus before. Must be some new kid whose parents are loaded. Or one of those kids who did some trading on the internet and landed on some big cash.

My phone pings in my jean pocket and I take it out to read the text. It’s from Nicole. She says she’ll be late for class and that I should keep a seat for her. It’s our routine when one of us is late, not just for class but for any event or gathering that requires sitting.

We like to be next to each other, so we can gossip or talk if it’s boring.

I reply to her text, telling her to hurry up. I didn't see her when I left our room early. I wonder where she'd gone to. When I arrive at the class, it’s almsot filled up.

Most of the girls are seated at the front today, which is weird. Taylor and Frances are the only girls who sit in front because they actually care about school.

I care about school but I don’t act like it’s my entire identity. I’m just laid back about it but my grades are fine. They should be fine because my parents work hard to make sure I’m educated.

Nicole rushes in after me a minute later before my butt touches our designated sitting area on the fifth row.

“That was quick,” I eye her messy hair. She follows my gaze and raises her hand to arrange her black hair.

“I was at the library,” she smacks her lips and I roll my eyes. Trust Nicole to be getting some boy action before an 8 am lecture. And at the library of all places?

Nicole holds back from laughing when she notices my fake sour expression.

“What? It was quick and we didn’t even go all the way,” my eyes widen and I quickly look around to see if anyone had heard our conversation.

I turn my head back to face Nicole and put my index finger to my lips. Shhh.

“Jeez, Nicole. Some public decorum at least?” I take out my notebook from my side bag.

I’m suddenly curious. I don’t keep up with Nicole’s flings because I’ve lost count at this point but this is the first time she’s risen up early to go get some. Maybe she likes like this person.

“Who is it?” I inquire.

Nicole smiles shyly before responding.

“It’s Adrian.” Adrian the philosophy guy? I guess he’s brainwashed her. I’m always wary of someone who is into the mysteries of life or the way the human brain works.

They can easily manipulate you if they wanted.

“Good for you,” I nod and I mean it.

Unlike me, Nicole isn’t fond of relationships. She’s never had a boyfriend because she’s been in love with the same person for as long as she can remember. She tells me it was some guy from her hometown.

The classroom gradually fills up as more students take seats in front of us and at the back. Once they’re settled, a man walks in. The majority of the girls in front of us begin to whisper to themselves and I finally understand why they’d taken those chairs.

The side profile of the man as he struts to the stage is immaculate. I wonder what his face is like.

He answers my question by facing us. I hear sirens go off in my head. The part of my brain that likes to laugh at me when I’m in trouble grabs a popcorn as the memory part of my brain flashes back to two weeks ago. My birthday in the club.

I thought I’d dreamed that night up due to the amount of drink I’d consumed that night. I thought it wasn’t real. I never even told Nicole what had happened between that man and me in the small karaoke-like room because I thought I’d gone mad!

As my brain continues to replay images from that night, I realize that it wasn’t a dream. The reality of that knocks the breath out of me. Then the man finally speaks.

“Good morning everyone, I’m Professor Christian Lambert.”