Rachel's POV
Do I have my notebooks? Did I even pack them? I lift my backpack from the floor of the car up to the seat next to me and dig through it. There, my four notebooks lined up perfectly in class order. I sigh from relief as I set it back down and continue clicking my fingernails against the car door.
Wait, what about the binders, and my folders? I pull my bag back to me again and dig through it. Sure enough, they're in there...right next to the notebooks I just checked for...organized by each class and color coded. This must be what it's like to go insane. I throw my bag back down and resume the habit that is currently keeping me calm.
Shit, pencils. Did I even remember to pack pencils?! Holy shit what if I forgot pencils, I'm obviously going to need them. Everyone needs pencils...I can't not have pencils. I pick my bag up once again and scramble for them.
"Calm down before you shit yourself," Hayley snickers, closing the top mirror in the passenger seat when she finishes her makeup. "You've checked your bag over a hundred times. Hell, we waited in the car for like ten minutes as you checked your bag in the house the fourth time this morning."
"Come on, Hayley. She's just nervous," Jen defends me, passing a car.
Hayley chuckles, "I know, I'm not dumb. I just find it ironic the most nerdy, perfectionist girl I know is nervous for school and actually thinks she forgot something."
School. I can't believe I start today.
I've been anxiously awaiting this day with excitement and fear. I'm finally riding to school with both of my cousins, something I used to imagine. Our schedules work out perfectly for most of the week, we go in the same time in the morning though our days don't end at the same time, so Jen, Hayley, and I decided either we take trains home, drive, or pick each other up. When I talked to Harry, he even offered to get me some days, quite the sweet gesture. But this nearly twenty minute drive has been antagonizing for me, I've never felt more forgetful and lightheaded.
One thing that is calming me is that I shouldn't have too much of a problem socially. Though knowing me, that's always going to be a problem. Yes, I've got Hayley and Jennifer, although we aren't in the same year, but I have no classes with either sadly. I also have Matthew, who I'm glad is in the same year as me, and from comparing class schedules during my shift at the cafe a few days ago, we also have the majority of classes in common, which I'm incredibly thankful for. I had no clue his minor was writing, the same as mine, which bodes perfect so I have him for classes. Granted, that is only three friends, but it's better than none, right?
I recognize the street we turn onto and know that in one more turn, I'll be seeing the place that will lead me to my future goal, majoring in English. I cannot believe I made it here, I actually did it. I've had a lot cross my path to keep me from here. For instance, moving here in general, trying to get used to being alone. Then trying so freaking hard to get a job, to impress my parents while also trying to impress my dance teacher, who oddly after my last night practice is being nicer, and just trying to keep myself together after falling apart. The pieces of me are still broken, but I'm trying to deal with it and get to what's really important, my future.
I keep looking at my phone, at the little chat back and forth I had with Harry this morning. It was quick because he had a vocal training session this morning, and I so wish it could have lasted longer. Just a simple text of love and encouragement, which really is the main thing keeping me going and not jumping out this car in fear.
I feel the car turning, and I stare out the window, finding us driving in through the small, welcoming campus. Students are everywhere, literally, taking me back to my last year at UCLA where I just got comfortable in time for my sophomore year, but then I had to leave before junior year. The size of this campus is incomparable to my old one, but that should only be easier then. I can only hope I get comfortable here fast, and soon.
"Rachel!" Hayley yells, snapping my attention.
I realize the car is stopped and we are parked at a familiar setting, the administration building where I was just weeks ago.
"I said, we are dropping you off here since you need to get your papers, then parking by the library. That's where we discussed our new permanent parking spot, remember?" She speaks slowly as if I'm stupid.
"Yes," I answer her the same way, shakily getting myself out of the car. It's the safe haven, I feel I should stay in it...
Jen rolls her window down as soon as I shut the door. "Harry's possibly getting you today?"
"I can only hope so," I say, putting my backpack on my shoulders. He never said if he was or wasn't.
"If not, I'll stay in the library. Come there if not or text me if so, alright?" Jennifer promises, giving me a loving smile. "And Rach, you'll be fine. Have a wonderful day, and stay strong."
I reach through the window and hold her hand. "Thank you. I love you guys."
"Alright, I feel like two parents dropping our kid off to college. This is too emotional for my taste. Bye Rach, see you around," Hayley rolls her eyes, waving to me before staring out the window, probably in hope to see a guy.
"Love you too," I chuckle, waving back as I turn around and head for the building. All I simply need to do is turn in a few papers and get a second copy of my schedule. My first class, Creative Writing, starts at nine and I want to be there at least ten to twenty minutes early.
Lucky for me, they had my schedule ready and it took only minutes to give them my papers so they'd be in my file. The lady at the desk tells me that my class is the next building over, in the English building, and I don't have to walk so far. Plus I can't help but be glad I have Creative Writing first. I've always wanted to take this class, and I had planned on taking it my junior year back in Los Angeles, but of course things changed. I remember when Jacob and I were in sophomore year, he took it and always raved about it to me, begging me to join. I'll gladly take this class, as far away as possible from him.
I step out of the administration building and look around, this campus is lovely, and my feelings are very familiar. So many people, talking, laughing, meeting back up with their friends...and I'm here standing alone. I do the shameful action of taking my phone out and acting social as I head over to my first class. I'd actually call Harry and talk to a real person instead of pretending, but he's busy with the boys in the studio. I miss his voice, and I don't know...I wish he was in school with me. Many, many things would be easier if he was.
I make it in the building and pull my schedule out of my pocket; Room 108 is written by Creative Writing. I follow some students in the busy hallway and find my way. The classroom is nice, and bigger than I expected, but not a total lecture room. A handful of students are already here and the giant clock at the front of the class reads that we have ten minutes to spare. I instantly look at the front of the class and lucky there is a table open with two seats, just what I wanted. I just like to sit at the front. I start walking toward it and place my stuff down on it when suddenly someone else does.
"Um, excuse me, I was wanting this table for my friend and I—" I look up at the guy, but suddenly I recognize him. "Matthew?!"
"The one and only," he smiles at me, immediately brightening up the room. It's really different seeing him outside the work setting. I have before, but it's just a little odd. He looks quite relaxed, his hair not gelled up, wearing simply jeans and a light grey sweatshirt, interesting to see him without that apron. I let my cousins dress me today, and I look more outgoing than I am with this leather jacket of Hayley's.
Matthew keeps looking at me and I realize I must have missed what he said. I was just staring at him...how awkward of me.
"Sorry, what? I didn't get my coffee this morning.." I find the most common thing to blame it on.
"Ouch, that's awful, I would have gotten you some," he takes a quick sip from his, and from the label I can tell he stopped at work to get it. "I just asked if you like sitting up front too?"
"Thanks and yeah, I love it. Better to pay attention, and I...I just always do," I answer, shrugging. Matthew unloads his backpack before pulling my chair out for me so I can sit down. I thank him as he sits too.
"Glad I'm not the only one who likes sitting up front too," Matthew laughs, calming me down a bit. He turns to me in his seat, "Seems we're the only ones though who actually care." I look back behind us with him, all of the other students sitting on the desks or standing or actually in the chairs a row back from us, talking away.
"Eh, I'm used to it," I giggle, because it's true, I've usually always been the nerd of my classes.
"Have you at all heard about the teacher?" Matthew puts a pencil on his ear.
I sigh, knowing I'm completely unprepared because I seriously know nothing about any of them. The prepared Rachel would know everything I need to know, but finding out about my acceptance just recently didn't give me enough time. "I haven't, sadly. What do you know?"
Matthew furrows his brows. "That's the thing, I don't really know much either which is weird because I usually know everyone. All I know is he's new. My mum doesn't even have much on him; yes she's the admissions director, but she hasn't met the man yet."
"Well at least you know he's a man. There's a start," I tease.
"Oh shut up," my boss laughs, though he's acting so much more like my friend so I should really start referring to him as that. After all, bosses don't say shut up, and he's being really loose, as should I. "Hey, how's it been here so far for you?"
"Okay I guess, I'm really just trying not to draw attention to myself. I feel different as it is."
"How so?"
I laugh, then put on the best English accent that I can, "Because I'm not British like you all, and I'm that girl who joins university junior year."
Matthew laughs, hard, and I smack his arm lightly. Once he calms down he talks, "Sorry, I brought too much attention to you with laughing," he tells me jokingly, "but that was an awful accent. I do not sound like that."
"I never said I was good at accents," I defend myself, only bringing us both back to laughing.
Suddenly we hear a huge bang, silencing every mouth in the whole classroom. Our eyes meet the young man's eyes at the front of the room, seeing a bag along with a book that he must have slammed on the table. He must be the mystery teacher.
"Sorry, did I interrupt something?" he asks sarcastically, his lips curling into a devilish grin as he looks all of us in the eyes, walking around his desk to lean on the front of it.
If we're all in trouble on the first day...
"Kidding! Damn you should have seen your faces!" he claps his hands, cracking up. I hear practically everyone exhale out of relief and I can't help but do the same.
"Holy shit, I thought he was going to be a total jerk," Matthew whispers in my ear, his profanity reminding me once again were the same age and friends, so I nod in agreement.
Our teacher walks up to the white board. "As most of you may guess, I'm the new guy. My name is James Porter and if you're totally brain dead this morning like I am, or have no idea where the hell you are, I'll gladly remind you, this course is Creative Writing."
He scribbles his name on the board, and I can't help but notice his appearance. He looks fairly young, at least in his mid-to late twenties. He's tall, and seems built under his black leather jacket. Professor Porter looks dressed like a college kid, his black hair is messy but tame and he looks so unlike what I expected from a British college professor. I guess I expected extremely strict and old, but this man is chilled and definitely not old. Odd enough, I feel he looks strangely familiar.
"Now, I'm going to tell you I'm quite different from the other professors here," he closes the marker and turns back to us. "First of all, no need to call me professor, it makes me feel old. I'm no square, no need for formalities, Mr. Porter suffices. Second, I'm not strict, though doesn't mean I won't write your arses for tardiness or skipping class," he begins to start walking around the front of the classroom slowly. "Third and lastly," suddenly his voice changes, or should I say his accent, "I'm bloody American. I stick out from the lot of all your teachers and you students."
He's American?
"Maybe you're not alone," Matthew says into my ear. "But his fake accent was better than yours.."
"Shut up," I reply back, nudging him with my elbow.
"Unless I'm wrong," my teacher continues, "and out there some American feels my pain of not having all those beloved fast food places here..." He has this thing about him, it's like dry humor. My new teacher seems quite relaxed.
Matthew whistles somewhat softly, pointing at me. "Matty!" I yell in a whisper, putting the hand of his that points at me back down on the desk.
But it's too late, and sitting in the front shows to have its downs. "You're American?" Mr. Porter shoots his gaze at me and I feel suddenly intimidated by his friendly yet icy blue eyes.
"Yes, just moved here this past summer," I answer him shyly.
Mr. Porter starts for my desk. "No kidding, so did I! Where from?"
"I um," I swallow, knowing right now everyone has to be looking at me. "I lived in Los Angeles last because I went to college there, but Texas originally."
"Well, Miss, I guess it's fated I meet you," he grins at me, which makes him look less intimidating yet at the same time even more, but what on earth is he talking about? He speaks again, more to everyone. "You see, I was about to explain some background of myself. I used to teach in Los Angeles at the lovely campus of UCLA. I'm assuming that's where you went?"
"Y-Yeah," I nod. I thought he looked familiar, but I guess I just never really got close or met him to realize it completely.
"I taught there for five years, but this year I decided to transfer and move here to teach this exact same course. Random choice, but let's hope not the wrong one. Maybe I knew some of your friends?"
Or my abusive ex who took your class... "I don't remember any of my friends taking the class," I lie.
"That's too bad, I bet you miss home," he tells me, walking back to his desk, and he is exactly right...sort of. Just my parents and my one friend, Monica. "We should get started, I have to tell you guys what we're doing in the class and all that boring crap. Though, Miss, if you don't mind me putting you on the spot much longer, I didn't catch your name."
"Rachel," I swallow, my nerves still present.
"Rachel..." he ponders aloud, skimming a sheet of what I assume is the attendance. "Ah, Rachel Edwards. Welcome to London with me," Mr. Porter smiles nicely again, looking right into my eyes with that same intense gaze of his eyes.
"Thank you," I bite my lip, knowing I'm redder than red by now.
Mr. Porter turns back to the board to write rules I assume when Matthew leans in to whisper again, "So much for not sticking out..."
The rest of the class goes down smoothly, only a few lasting gazes from Mr. Porter and a goodbye when it's over. The rest of the school day follows suit, no more embarrassing conversations for me or standing out. Oddly, the teacher of my etymology class let us out early after he told us all we needed to know about the class, and I have more than an hour to spare before Jen gets out of class, and I'm hungry.
Maybe I should just wait in the library for her? Or Harry might possibly be available to take me home and grab a meal?
I settle for heading over to the library to check it out, and call Harry in the process. The library, about a ten minute walk from my current location, is luckily accessible from a shady walkway. I start on my way, the campus not as busy as before since most people are still in classes.
"Rach!" Someone calls for me. I turn around and see Matthew jogging my way.
"Hey, what's up? Thought you had your business policy and strategy class thingy?" I ask as he finally reaches me.
Matthew chuckles at my attempt to remember his course, "Yeah, I did, but the professor let us go early."
"Mine too."
He fixes his backpack strap by tugging it up his shoulder. "So our days are finished, where were you heading to?"
"The library, I don't know if I have a ride home, and my cousin is still in class with the keys and if I didn't have a ride, we were leaving together. I need to get some food or something though," I answer. "You?"
"Actually, I was heading to my mum's office to put my stuff there, then off to find a place for lunch. I don't like leaving things in my car when I'm out. Do...do you want to join me?" Matthew asks tentatively.
This is something I should do, be social. Besides, he'll take me back here and I'll go home with Jen or Harry. "Yeah, I would love that."
My answer makes him smile. "Follow me then."
Matthew and I drop off our things in his mother's office, then he takes me to his car parked in that parking lot. He opens the door for me to get in, and moments later, we are searching for a place to eat. There are so many places here with so many different types of food, and I get curious where we are when we stop in front of this little place nearly ten minutes away.
"Ever eaten here at Franco Manca?" He shuts the car off and turns to me.
"Can't say that I have. That's why you're the one driving; I've really not explored London, I have no idea what's around here."
"Really? I come here all the time during the school year, they have really good pizza. Shall we?"
Matthew leads me into the tiny pizzeria, instantly the smell of fresh dough embracing us, and I must say, its great. We each pick out two slices of our choosing and Matthew offers to pay for me, though I decline him twice. Once we get a table, I start the conversation by telling him I'm grateful.
"I have to say thank you for offering to bring me to lunch. You know, if this were high school, I'd be the one sitting in a stall in the bathroom, balancing my lunch tray on my lap with a book in one hand and a fork in the other," I admit the not so happy truth of who I was in high school.
Matthew's eyes open wide in disbelief, "Seriously? Nah, I don't believe that. Though if this were hellishly high school, I'd be the kid with his lunch stolen or thrown at his face by now."
"No..." I shake my head. "I doubt you'd be unpopular, look at you.." I quickly silence myself, knowing that what I'm saying could come off so wrong. But I will admit, how could he ever get teased with those sweet blue eyes?
"Trust me, I was chubby and dull in high school. I'm glad I grew up," Matthew laughs at his own expense, pointing at himself to emphasize his change. "This is why I love college, no one ever picks on you and you stay in your own lane," he says, shrugging as he takes his last bite from his first slice.
He's wrong, you do get messed with. At least, that's my experience.
"Anyway, I wanted to ask, Miss English, how was your first day? Favorite class?" Matthew changes the subject, calling me by my major with a grin lacing his lips.
"Well, Mr. Business," I answer back, dabbing my face with my napkin, "it went better than I thought, I'm super glad. Literature class takes the title of my favorite I think, but then again it's only been a day."
Matthew looks surprised. "Literature? Huh, I would have thought Creative Writing would have taken that role."
"What makes you say that?"
"Well it's easy and seems like fun, and the teacher has a thing for you, obviously you'll do well," he wriggles his eyebrows, clearly joking, but even so I smack his hand that is resting on the table.
"Mr. Porter so does not!" How does he even grasp that idea?
"Okay, but all that attention he gave you, no one gives anyone that much attention to a student on the first day. You and he are even from the same place! How could you not have ever seen him there? He kept looking at you with those dreamy, piercing eyes..." Matthew says dramatically before he drifts off into laughter. I threaten to smack him again.
"Oh hush, you have similar blue eyes, as do I, and I don't go crazy at myself when I look in the mirror," I joke. "Besides, even if in some crazy universe Mr. Porter did have a thing for me, it'd never work out because—"
"Because you're with him," Matthew answers, obviously referring to Harry. His lips form a line as he avoids my eye contact and sips his water.
Okay...?
"Um..well, yes, but also because I'm pretty sure it's illegal and your mother so graciously got me into this school, and can so easily get me out," Matthew finally looks back at me when I giggle, and I see him relax, smiling with me.
He shakes his head, "I'd never let that happen."
"Well good, I guess I became friends with the right person, a friend who wants me to succeed."
"You did, because I'm also a great study buddy, but that's a secret," he brings a finger to his lips for me to hush.
I tell him in a whisper, "Your secret is safe with me." Then I shrug and say, "I have to keep your secret anyway, you're also my boss."
My joke has him laughing, and when he dies down its silent for a bit. I debate whether to speak first or not but he does, "Look, I can't help but say something, it's been itching at me since the day I found out like a while ago. Your boyfriend Harry, he's famous?"
My eyes widen a little, the subject were getting at a little touchy. "Um, well, yes he is. He's in a band."
"Lacey at work told me the day he picked you up, her talk about how she knew him and stuff got me curious and she told me what he did and I was honestly shocked, mainly because I couldn't believe I didn't realize it at all." Matthew talks calmly, putting me at ease as do as his words. I didn't know where the conversation was going.
I clear my throat, "Yeah, when I first met him...well I'll be honest, I was drinking when I first met him, and I had no idea he was famous at all, and had only heard of the band briefly. I didn't know anything about him, or his work, which I thought was embarrassing." I don't know if I like talking about Harry with him, he seems on edge about Harry, but then again, he brought him up.
"I felt embarrassed," Matthew chuckles, "because I've seen his face often, my little cousin is a die hard fan. I can't believe I didn't catch on."
"It's okay, but like I'm keeping your secret, can you keep this one too? I don't want anymore bad publicity than I already have," I'm being honest, because now that I really know the bitchiest of my co-workers Lacey has had it figured out this whole time, I need to be careful about this.
"Of course I will," he smiles, and in that instant I know he means it. Matthew nods his head behind us, silently asking if I'm ready to leave and I nod, getting up with him. As we step out he adds, "I have to keep your secret anyway, you're my friend," and we laugh all the way to his car.
We both make it back to school with time to spare, Jennifer still in class for probably another ten minutes or so. Getting our things from the office, Matthew thanks me for tagging along and I thank him again for the invitation. Realization hits, and I realize I haven't done this in ages, the whole going out with a friend to eat thing. It feels good, really good, to be social again.
As I wait for Matthew to pick up his things, he tells me, "You can go ahead and start waiting outside, I've still got to tell my mum I'm heading off campus to my apartment. I'll meet you there?"
"Sure," I smile, heading outside the office.
Once I'm out back in the cloudy London weather, I see a familiar car parked in front of me, my boyfriend easily visible in the driver seat. Harry makes eye contact with me and smiles, but his smile is interrupted.
"Harry is picking you up, then?" Matthew startles me, and I had no clue he's been standing next to me at all.
"Oh, I guess, I had no clue he was here," I giggle. "I should probably get going, thank you so much for lunch!" I start walking off, going around to get in the passenger seat of Harry's Range Rover.
"Thanks for coming to lunch with me, I'll see you tomorrow!" My friend kindly smiles, waving me off before heading to his car.
I climb into the car and shut the door, then I turn to Harry and hug him, probably catching him way off guard, but I've missed him.
"I missed you so much today, I had an interesting first day. It was long..." I tell him, squeezing him tight in my hug and pressing a kiss against his shoulder.
He kisses me back, pressing a kiss to my cheek as I pull away. "I missed you too, princess. Tell me everything about it, but why were you with him? Did I hear you thanking him for lunch?"
I had a feeling he heard and knew that this wasn't going to slide...
a/n:
so.. Mr. Porter, the really hot creative writing teacher, is a newish character that is not gonna have a major part but PRETTY COOL HOW HE TAUGHT AT UCLA RIGHTTTTTT????? AND HE KNEW JACOB???? WHATTTTTT???
ANYWAY! I picture the VERY hot Ian Somerhalder as James Porter because I've been watching TVD and HOLY CRAP he's so hot I want him to turn me into a vampire okay lol so if you're trying to get a pic in mind for him, it's Ian! he has a Damon-esque personality, the dry humor, sarcastic, but very hot/charming type of guy.