How Many Nights does it take to Count the Stars?

Chapter one

Andora:

English is my first class today. I arrived at my dorm yesterday and already unpacked a few things, though those white boring walls were about to be my new home for the next few years, I couldn't get myself to stay in there. I spent three hours there and already felt alone, even anxious, no one was there yet. I need to ease into changes, they make a hard impact on me. I hurry to take the books and enter my class. The halls of the campus seem so long and big to me, you could get lost within them, I wonder if I ever will.

I flinch at the thought.

As I enter the class my eyes linger among the students who've already taken their seats and stare at me as if I fell from the moon. I ignore them and take a seat in the third row near the window. I hate sitting in the middle of class, especially in the front rows. I get anxious when I'm in the middle of things, vulnerable to everyone, and on display. I open my phone, trying to find something to keep me distracted from the noise - I'm out of luck, but I don't have to wait long until the teacher enters the class and everyone suddenly gets silent, examining and judging the figure that just entered the class and is supposed to stay with them for the next three years, more or less. Few other students entered the class, one of them sat next to me when he failed to find another place available. "Sorry, is it okay if I sit here?" He asked after looking at my lost face expression. I look up at him, trying to stop myself from hyperventilating. His eyes were green, emerald Color, his hair laying to the sides, gentle curls shaped his hair, he wore a flannel shirt and blue jeans. It felt like there was a whole world living inside, the one I knew nothing about, and the one I'm not sure I want to enter. I love the flannel but didn't dare to say. Oh shoot, he asked something, right, what did he ask? Oh, right. "Sure," I finally say, without giving much thought to the matter, but how can one even say no when he's asked a question like that? He'll think I'm a snob and won't have anything to do with that because until he realizes it all the other seats will already be taken.

"I'm Harry." He leaned on his elbows, looking at me, "Andora. Rowland." I say after a second of silence, and that's what being social makes me, nervous and embarrassed. "Styles," he adds and smiles at me, I nod at him with awkwardness. Did I see kindness in his eyes just now when he showed his cute dimples to me? How sweet.

I get back to the room, look at the tall figure that is our teacher standing in front of us. He writes his name on the board. "Can someone read it please?" He shifts at us, someone volunteers, "Elijah Martin."

"True, I wouldn't have changed that even if I wanted to, but if someone by the end of the year can guess my given nickname, and I have only one, this student will get 5 bonus points for his final test this year, and trust me, you need those bonus points."

"So, what is this course about?" He starts explaining. "We'll have literature, writing assignments, word corpus, poem learning, and in general, we'll focus on improving our level of English, writing, and understanding poems and books. I'll accept only those students in whom I see the sparkle I myself have for writing, so if you're here only because of your friends or because this seemed to be easy for you, you can find your way to another class next lesson, don't worry, I do not judge you for that, English is not for everyone, although also not everyone has a good taste, on that, we'll talk later on." He takes a breath and looks around.

"I will judge you a lot harder though if you stay here and don't want to learn, and believe me, I can make your life a lot harder than it already is right now, so out you go and you do not come back anymore. Contact me on my email if you have any requests, problems, or you've decided to drop this class. I'm always here for you if you're here with me. Now we'll begin the lesson and give time to those of you who seem to have their mouths open behind those terrified confused eyes of yours." He smiles devilishly, having seen it hundred times before, expecting the next step. Then, after nothing happens and the silence is the only thing hanging in the air he turns around to the board and writes his email address on the side of the board. A promising start, that is.