– Zach –
"Mr. Zachary Curtis, it appears that you are a credit point short."
And you tell me this, after the semester has started?
"Oh." I say instead. "So does this mean I'll get..." I trail off. Please don't say the word 'defer'.
"Not exactly." Ms. Montez says coherently while adjusting her thin-framed glasses. "It is only one point, after all, holding you back would seem like a waste of time for you, wouldn't it?"
Yes.
"Not to worry, we do have solutions for special cases such as yours." She says as she sets the documents down onto her wooden desk. "You have the option to take up an extra subject related to your course, or you could join a club."
"A club?" I frown, instantly loathing the idea.
"Don't tell me that you don't know what a club is." She says sarcastically. "Don't look so troubled, here at Glenworth we have the best and most productive clubs you can ever find. They don't call us the number one institute for nothing."
I am pretty sure nobody calls us that.
"It is all very exciting. You have clubs ranging from performing arts to sports and some humanitarian clubs if you're feeling helpful, or you could even join baking." She babbles. "You look like the type that could whip up some good frosting to go with some cupcakes."
"I hate cupcakes."
"Even better! You could give them to me." Ms. Montez laughs heartily. She seems to be enjoying this more than she should, which is irking me but I'll keep pretending it doesn't.
"You mentioned that I could choose a related subject too, right?" I ask.
"Oh, of course." She says, her energy levels depleting suddenly. I guess I killed the excitement, yet I can't say I'd apologize for that. "Here is a list of available subjects for you to choose from, and here is the list of all the clubs in Glenworth, which I am confident that you would enjoy participating to the fullest extent." She beams while sliding two sheets of paper towards me.
I take the papers and fold them before chucking it into my bag. "Thanks, Ms. Montez."
"You are most welcome, Mr. Curtis." She nods, resuming her usual professional manners. "Should you have any more questions, you know where my office is."
"Right." I utter while carrying my bag on one shoulder, preparing to leave.
"Oh, I almost forgot. Club information day is tomorrow. You should go check it out since you might be joining one." She suggests.
"I'll keep an eye out then." I say. "Thanks."
"No problem." She replies as I exit the room.
This was not what I expected when I enrolled here.
To begin with, Glenworth is possibly fifteen times the size of the college I had dropped out of last winter. It still feels uncomfortable for me to hear myself mention the words 'drop out', but as long as I graduate from any college, that won't be part of my résumé, right? That only means I have to work three times as hard because there won't be another second chance.
I can't lie though, I was convinced that the offer to study here was probably just a dream. After being kicked out of the tiny room that I had camped in for nine months, I ended up finding a new one twenty minutes away. I didn't prefer the location but it was cheaper by half, plus, I was pretty desperate, so anything cheap sounded like gold.
Anything is better than sleeping on the streets.
Despite the milestone, I'm far from being alright. I'm living on a shoestring and barely scraping through college. If I mess up again, it is the end of the line for me, I know that.
I could've just told my parents what happened. Scratch that, I should have told my parents what happened, but I didn't, and I don't plan on doing so. They won't find out either, anyway, or at least this is what I'm trying to convince myself to believe.
Much to my dislike, the weather is still cold, but I can't say I prefer the heat, either. I've had a good month to clean up my act, which would not have happened if it wasn't for her.
Standing here in the middle of a foreign campus, I'm reattempting to start from square one. This time, I'm going to make it through graduation and make my parents proud.
Truthfully speaking, I have no idea how to do that, but I'll figure something out. I think.
* * *
There are the lecturers who waltz in and cut to the chase with expertise, then there are the nervous lecturers who are too careful with every single gesture for the fear of being disliked by their students. Then, you have the lecturers who are way too extroverted and would want the whole class to share the same amount of enthusiasm, even though everyone woke up at seven in the morning and possibly skipped breakfast just to make it on time.
Unfortunately for me, I got the latter.
I wouldn't call myself anti-social, but I am a person who only speaks when it is necessary. I prefer the option to sit in quietly, space out or get engrossed by the lesson. There really is no in-between. Conversations aren't necessary unless there's work to be done.
Some may say that I'm lonely, but what is loneliness when you enjoy it?
I run a hand through my charcoal brown hair, suddenly aware that I may have forgotten to tidy it before I left the apartment. It doesn't matter though, no one will notice.
There are only about twenty of us, so we are assigned to one of the smaller classrooms. Even so, there are still a couple of rows left of empty seats. Despite the well air-conditioned room, I folded the sleeves of my black hoodie jacket and tried my absolute best to pay attention to Mr. Lee, (self-claimed as) one of the most well-known design lecturers in the country, going on about his life story and how he fell in love with art.
I failed the minute my mind began to wander as my eyes start studying the cream colored walls and the lightly tinted curtains, so thin that it feels like the drapes are non-existent at all. Gradually, my attention falls to the people around me.
I immediately notice the amount of diversity the room is containing. From a heavily tattooed man to a frail-looking girl with ginger-braided hair, the laws of social stereotypes don't seem to apply at all.
Sitting in this room are now my new classmates. I wonder if I could get along with them, considering I barely did with anyone before, mostly because I didn't even try.
At least Mr. Lee looked pleased with himself when he dismissed us. I doubt anyone was really listening, except for the few who sat dangerously close to him and were forced to participate in his random trivia.
I'll say it straight: that was boring.
I have fifteen minutes to spare before my next class. Quite frankly, I'm not too excited about the longer breaks in between since I have nothing to do, no one to talk to and nowhere I want to go. Then again, I constantly dismiss every opportunity to socialize.
Should I be worried that all the people whose names I know so far are lecturers?
Taking a right turn down the hallway, I casually lean against the wall and scroll through my phone at random to look busy. I glance at all the faces that are passing me, somehow curious about what stories each of them would have to tell if I had asked, but that isn't what I am most curious about.
A short distance away is a girl standing by herself, clutching onto her navy blue backpack. She is dressed in an oversized sweater, her long wavy brown hair tucked behind her ear, the kind of brown that makes me think of dark chocolate mousse.
For some reasons I can't lay off the feeling like I've seen her before, somewhere.
xxx
Chapter visual credit: Tumblr, anonymous.
A/N: Thank you for taking the time to read a timid introduction, known as Chapter One :) your kind votes and feedback are greatly appreciated <3 Chapter Two will be updated real soon, hope to see you there!
imperfectdreamer