Escapade » z.m

11. The Professor Has Awesome Listening Skills

He climbed the front steps quickly, finally entering the college. His college. But then he pulled up short again.

If the outside of the architecture was stupefying, the inside was just as befuddling.

Zayn stood in the Hall, bewildered by the beauty. The ceiling was made of glass, staring hard back at him, the grey clouds unveiled from the transparency.

There was enough light coming from the glass above, and the open windows that fluttered slightly from the gust.

Coming to his senses, he examined his time table.

First was English Literature. And then he lost his senses again. He grinned stupidly, staring at the square sheet.

"I'm-wow. God, wake me up before I'm far too involved in this dream that I'm not even willing to come out of it."

He looked around, forming the question in his mind before he voiced it.

"Can you tell me where the English classes are conducted?" He asked. The lad stared at Zayn for a moment, studying him briefly.

"If you'll go straight, you'll get to the quadrangle. Turn right when you see the corridor bifurcate. Its at the end of that hallway."

"Okay, thank you."

"It was nothing-though make a run for it. We're kind of late." He laughed. "I also should run to my class!"

Zayn smiled, paving his way to the class.

He was in the quadrangle now, crossing the corridor. There were classes at regular intervals-muffled whispers heard from all of them. Some had teachers in them, some didn't.

He turned right, walking briskly now.

He came to a halt, standing in front of the door. There was no one supervising, but the class wasn't loud.

Zayn stepped in tentatively, entering the semi-circular room. The seats of the classroom were set up in a stair like arrangement and he looked for empty seats.

There was one in the centre-a place left to fit at least two people. He ran up the aisle, settling himself in the seat-keeping his books on the table.

The two students-a blonde girl and a dark haired boy-were sitting beside him, talking in hushed voices-the other one straightening when he saw Zayn.

"Good morning." He smiled, studying him for a bit. "You're Zayn, right?"

Zayn frowned, "How'd you know?" He asked, taken aback.

"We're from the same hostel. My dorm is on the same floor so I saw you. New student?"

"Yeah." Replied Zayn. Has everyone freaking seen him? He should start carrying an invisibility cloak.

"I'm Austen. She's Jenny-my girlfriend." Yeah, I didn't ask though.

Just before Jennifer was about to speak, the professor entered. All the polite murmur faded as he came in. He walked to the centre of the room, silencing everything in his wake.

Zayn felt a weight on his shoulders when he looked at him. His tall stature, squared shoulders, all of him spoke volumes. Even when he was pretty young for a teacher.

He had a wool-blend short coat draped over his casual shirt, loose khaki pants and a stubble growing on his face.

Zayn gulped-avoiding to lock eyes with him.

"Good morning." He addressed everyone, his voice-the way Zayn had anticipated-had a certain authority. "I hope everyone of you enjoyed today's weather-Mr. Smith, change your place with Mr. Wesley, please. I don't like you sticking with Miss Jennifer in my class, I need you to concentrate."