Transatlanticism

Chapter One

This is my first chapter EVER on wattpad, so uh, tell me if you like it? :)

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Chapter One

I adjusted my horn-rimmed glasses, sighing as another long, droning sentence escaped my college professor's wide mouth. My pen flew across the page, and it seemed he would never slow down. Lectures and note-taking were not my forte, but nothing much seemed to be my forte lately. I wish I was that one chick from X-men: The Final Stand who just moved her hand over the page, and the notes magically appeared there. Or I would be Storm, because really, what's cooler than white hair and controlling the weather? The answer: Nothing.

After what seemed like hours, he dismissed the 200-or-so-student class in the Political Science Auditorium.

"Arwen," someone said casually, like they were trying out the word. My head turned quickly over to see a guy my age studying me with hazel eyes. He had been sitting next to me during the whole class period, but I didn't take much notice of him, since I was constantly busy scribbling down notes. Usually guys didn't really take notice in me- my sister said it was the glasses, and she was always telling me that I needed to get contacts, but I found the idea of risking your vision to see better was ironic. Like, sticking a finger in my eye? Yeah, right. At least I wasn't Cyclops, who just blasted everyone he looked at with his laser eyes. What is up with me and X-men today? I snapped myself back to the real world (even though a world of mutations would be so much cooler).

"Uh... yeah?" I said awkwardly. He suddenly looked embarrassed and his gaze slipped past me for a second.

"Leo!" someone called. I quickly gathered up my stuff, wondering how he even knew my name. He seemed to read my mind, so then he ignored the person calling after him and spoke again to me.

"I'm not a stalker, I promise... I just saw your name on your test, and, well, I thought your name was unique," Leo (I think) explained.

"Great," I said slowly, slipping my messenger bag over my shoulder. I fumbled a bit with the strap (it kinda choked me, so then I tried to pull it over the other shoulder, but then it got caught in my hair), but I finally got the bag off. He gave me a weird look for a second, my bag-skills not satisfactory, obviously. Because putting on a bag was at the top of the list of things a girl must have. (That was sarcasm, by the way, in case you didn't catch on. Again with the unnecessary rambling!)

"Leo!" someone yelled again, this time closer. I got up and slipped past the person, who looked almost exactly like Leo, and ran out of the door, not even looking back at the weirdo. Well, fellow weirdo...

I reached the campus Starbucks kiosk, running up to my roommate who worked there, Amira. Amira was the prettiest girl, like, ever, so she was always hit on by students here, but she never budged. She was like Artemis, in the sense that she would never love a man. I asked her if she was a lesbian once, but she just laughed in my face (one of the only times I saw her laugh) and insisted that she didn't believe in love, man or woman. She just didn't believe in romantic relationships and pretty much banned men from getting in the way of her dream: to be a famous artist. We were the same in the sense that we lived for art.

"Hey Arwen, I've got you covered," Amira chirped, sliding me my usual iced tea.

"Thanks, girl," I said with a crooked smile.

"Don't call me 'girl,'" she snapped. I shrugged, used to her irritability. She wasn't one of many jokes. In fact, I've barely seen her laugh at all.

"A guy talked to me today," I said casually, since that was the only real news of the day. I wasn't usually talked to by much of anyone- I guess I was what some people would say... awkward.