Chapter Seven.
"Ain't you married?" —Reese Wilson.
Louisiana State University
Rubbing her tired eyes with the insides of her palms, Citrus let out a large yawn. Her eyes were dry from staring at the lecture board for so long while the middle aged professor known as Professor Robinson scribbled down his version of notes.
Citrus loathed the lecture days because the Professor was extremely pundit in it. He could go on and on throughout the whole fifty minute period, without so much as a break or a breath. Citrus knew that he got paid to do so, but with her learning style; just sitting and listening to a person talk never worked out for her. She was more hands on and the moving around and actually doing something type.
She lived for activities like debates, class discussions, learning based games, and projects. Lectures just were not for her.
Twirling the straw in the empty disposable coffee cup wishing that she hadn't downed all of it within the first ten minutes of class, Citrus's eyes shifted over to a raised hand that just so happened to belong to Miranda. A sophomore and biology major who only took this Activism and Human Rights class, for the extra few credits.
Citrus mentally rolled her eyes. Miranda was a good student but she was the type to always ask questions, even if they were unnecessary. Those questions would take up majority of the class time too, leaving the Professor to yet another lecture for the following class. They were behind on so much work, solely because of Miranda and all of her inquires.
"Miranda?" Professor Robinson picked her, "What is it?"
Miranda lowered her hand and gave a slight smile, before throwing out her concern, "Let's say a person is at the point in their lives. Where negative things are constantly being thrown at them. Shouldn't it be human to feel like there's no point of living?"
Citrus's ears perked up at that question. She could empathize with that statement, there was a period of time where her life wasn't at the best place and she started to feel like there was no point.
Professor Robinson, ran his hands along his suit before opening his mouth to speak.
"No," A male voice from the back of the room sounded, "If anything, that's the best time to be grateful. You see, I feel that when we're constantly being put through bad conditions. It's a way for the man upstairs to test our ability and strengths. We're all here for a reason...a purpose. So how are we able to discover our purpose if we aren't able to know what we can't and can handle?"
All eyes shifted towards the door where the owner of the voice stood leaning against it.
Citrus found herself drooling, not literally but figuratively. He was extremely handsome.
At about six foot three, with the perfect build. He wasn't too skinny and too thick or muscled up either. He had just enough meat and muscle on him to make it known that he hit the gym from here to there. From the depth of his eyes to the gentle yet authoritative expressions of his voice, he was a true sight to see. He was dressed comfortable in a plain white tee, with grey Nike sweat-shorts, and Nike air maxes. He had a medium sized gold chain around his neck with the letter T for the pendent. His arms, legs, hands, and face were tattoo free. Showing off his smooth, canna shaded skin.
