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."
Everybody's head turned towards Zayn, who paled before he realised the professor were talking to Austen and everyone was staring at him and not Zayn.
Austen looked like he could give a million dollars to evaporate on spot. He got up, pouting his lips at Jennifer and exchanged his seat with the guy who was on the front bench-presumably Mr. Wesley?
He said a quick hi to both Jennifer and Zayn, looking forward at the professor again.
"Thank you, Mr. Smith. As I was saying, beautiful as the weather is-I don't want my students to catch a cold. Being the responsible students you all are, stay cautious about your health. Exams are coming next month, start your preparation from now."
Everyone started talking in low whispers. Zayn darted his eyes everywhere, licking his lips nervously. If exams were coming, he had to catch up with everything that was taught-and soon.
"Two hours." The professor started again. "We have two hours of class today. Such a lucky day for me. I get to torture all of you." He sneered at everyone.
Zayn scowled, scrutinising everyone to watch their reactions.
But no one stirred. Surprisingly, everyone had a defeated smile on their faces. Some were even shaking their heads-but not without mirth.
"It's lucky for us too, professor." Someone spoke.
Professor smiled briefly. "Didn't know you all like me." He went behind his desk, choosing not to sit. He rested his palms on the desk, his elbows straight.
"Well, if that's the deal. Let me make you dislike me today. Thesis on the classic-What Katy Did. Five full pages." He paused, studying everyone's delighted faces.
"Day after tomorrow, on my table"
Collective gasps.
Collective protests.
Collective silence when Professor only stared back.
"Agree? Good." He crossed his arms, smirking at himself.
No one spoke after that, only some groans were heard.
Professor switched on the projector and stood before the screen, his silhouette mirroring his actions on it as he moved.
He started, "Keep everything aside, I don't want you fiddling with any pens, or the pages of your books and notebooks-"
"I don't want you playing with anything. You look at me, I give you the lecture, and you learn it as I say." The class droned together.
Zayn's lips parted in a grin. He looked around, enthralled. There would come a time when he would be drawling along with the class.
The professor laughed, "You'll get detention if you do that again." He pointed his pen towards the class, his shoulders shaking with revelry.
He changed his stance instantly, the class quieting just after. "Today, we are acquainting with the person who introduced Romanticism to literature. To mystery." He started, his voice captivating every ears. Every head was fixated at him as he spoke.
"His contribution to literature was massive. Poetry, short stories and he was a literary critic as well. Famous as he was-or might be still is, he is infamous for his death. Who am I talking about?"
The class stared at him expectantly. Yearning for the answer.
"Edgar Allan Poe." whispered Zayn.
"Edgar Allan Poe." announced the Professor. Everyone started murmuring again, pouring out their thoughts to their partners.
Professor tsked impatiently. "Don't start now. Let me get to the better part first."
Zayn smiled, crossing his arms and leaning in the bench to become comfortable.
Something told him these two hours were going to be long, but so amusing.
He loved the environment. He loved this. He loved the way the room enveloped you completely, he loved how the students reacted to everything the Professor said. He loved how he was teaching-the way literature should be taught.
He was no critic, of course. He had never got a chance of studying literature, but he just knew. Didn't he?
He always knew.
¢¢¢¢
The bell rang the second time, indicating the end of another hour. All the stillness Professor had conjured by his words in the classroom broke like a futile thread.
Everyone stirred in their benches, standing up. Some yawned and stretched. Some straightened their backs.
Two hours, slipping away in a blink. Zayn was tired, but he also felt rejuvenated. His brain cells activating to the core.
"Don't forget the Thesis! Everyone!" Professor were shouting. Zayn was certain no one was really paying any attention.
He stood up as well, plunging down the aisle quickly. He paced towards the door, wanting to get to his next class as soon as possible. He had checked, it was Psychology.
He hadn't confirmed the subject yet, but he could use some demonstration.
"Zayn Malik?" Someone called out.
Zayn spun on his heels, finding the Professor staring at him. "Professor?"
"Yeah, you. Come here."
Zayn came, standing metres away from him.
The professor sat down-for the first time in two hours, and looked at Zayn intently.
"I thought you'd come to meet me yourself. Here I had to call you."
Zayn averted his eyes again, keeping them downcast. He just didn't want to lock eyes with him. Doing that would seem he was viewing himself equal to his teacher, and even had this courage to do it.
Neither did he see himself equal to any student here, let alone a teacher, and nor had he had any courage.
"Sorry?" Zayn mumbled.
"Anyway, what are your plans?" He crossed his legs.
"About what?" Zayn asked innocently.
"Well, about your studies." He said nonchalantly. "And I'm not going to entertain late submission, you should take a note of that. I want the Thesis on time. All the previous assignments? I want them too. A week? You can give them to me in a week?"
"A week?" Zayn furrowed his brows, contemplating. He didn't even know how much work was piled up. How could he promise that way?
"Two." Professor offered, looking agitated. "A fortnight is enough." He said, his teeth gritting.
In an instant Zayn understood he was particular about deadlines. He nodded aggressively, fearing he might get angry.
"And don't think your academic achievement impresses me. You have to gain it. Do better, always." He stated gravely, smiling at Zayn right after. "You can go."
Zayn nodded, starting to leave.
"And Zayn?" Zayn turned to face him again. "Next time, if you know the answer, speak it loudly."
Zayn pursed his lips, biting at the bottom lip. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came.
"Now off you go!" Professor exclaimed, a smile pasted on his lips. "Lest you'll go and blame me for getting late to your class."
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I wanted to write more but I'm sleeeppyyy.
Vote, review and comment and criticise and really tell me if you liked this..
THANK YOU ALL!
FAREWELL!
(It's too cold?! My nose is frozen?!)