Unassailable: The professor.

Chapter 4

As we reached the entrance we were greeted by a secretary at the information desk.

"Hello there, do you need help with your schedules?" The lady said. She looked cheerful with her black hair and brown eyes that stared at us through her cat-like glasses. She looked about fifty.

"Hey, yes that'd be really helpful, thank you." I answered while looking at my friend. She seemed mesmerized by everything in this place, being similar to a five-year-old on Christmas. The secretary was looking at her too, trying not to laugh.

"May I know your names?"

"I'm Amalia Knox and this is Katherine Henderson," I answered as the lady immediately started clicking on the computer's keyboard.

"Alright, here it is, Miss Knox," she said as she handed me a sheet of paper. "And Miss Henderson," Kate finally got off her trance and received her schedule.

"Alright, welcome to Cooley's university and have a great day you two."

"Thanks, you too." Kate spoke for the first time to the lady.

"Oh my god, Lia. We're going to have so much fun!" My friend was the only person that called me Lia. And probably the only one that I'd let do so. I honestly didn't know where that nickname had come from, but I didn't mind.

"What classes did you take?" We started comparing our schedules as we reached a garden area where all of -what seemed to be- first year students were.

We took a seat on a bench near a group of overly nervous students. They seemed to be studying. Alright, seriously? Studying fifteen minutes before the actual class starts won't help in any way. My friend laughed along with me at the sight of the tense environment those people were in.

I kept on revising my schedule and something caught my eye. "Uhm... Kate?" I scanned the paper over and over again, trying to convince myself that the information plastered on it wasn't part of my vivid sense of imagination, but a piece of complete reality. "I've gotten into the special program!" I squealed, overly-excited, deciding to finally believe the sheet of paper. "Did you?"

I basically got to be in a neuro class full of senior year medical students. Just picture it, the top of the food chain and the bottom of it mixed in one room. The only thing that caught my eye was that it didn't say who was teaching us. It was sudden, to be honest. We had been informed that a few freshmen could get the chance to get into this program about a week ago, and the submissions only lasted for approximately twenty-four hours. The university's website practically collapsed, but Kate and I managed to send our applications.

"You bitch, there were five vacant spaces for first year students and I didn't get in. How come? I'm a genius." She scowled. "Unbelievable," she stared at me in defeat and then proceeded. I knew she was trying to hide her actual sorrow under her famous sarcasm. "Anyways, who's teaching?"

Kate was indeed a genius, I couldn't figure how she didn't get in the program either. I just hoped this wouldn't bring her down or anything for the matter.

"Doesn't say, must be like a surprise or something incredibly last-minute," the group of nervous studying people seemed to be listening to our conversation because one of them looked at me.

"Didn't you hear? There's a rumor, it says that the neuro class for seniors is headed by Dr. Vennberg himself. If that's true I need to study to be prepared for his class." I assumed she got in the program too.

"Dr. Vennberg? As in the neuro-cardio god?" Kate answered, almost losing it.

"That's right. The one and only." Oh man, please. Really? Haven't I had enough already? This can't be happening, not again. I'll have to see him on a daily basis. He hates me, I hate him, what's the point? I guess he got fired and came here to teach instead of saving lives.