“Wow…”
I muttered to myself, walking out of the now most surreal campus bibliotheek I have ever been to. My shoes make a rather annoying scratchy squeak at every step I make on the wet pavement. I try to focus on that, instead of him. Or, I could focus on the boeken he gave me. That wouldn’t exactly mean I was thinking about him… clearly hopelessly infatuated at the mere 3 minuut introduction (if that’s what u would even call it) and the much too-personal evaluation. Of course, it didn’t surprise me. I knew surely who he was. His name tag had read “Greg”. And, I surely knew who it was. His name floated around everywhere; he was an upper classmen, and a so called troublesome genius.
Night time had come fast… I discover, looking out the only window in this small, cramped dorm room. When I had gotten home pagina earlier today, I thought about what classes he might be taking. I’m smart and a good student; maybe it’s possible I could drop a class and take one of his. Then again, I could just audit one, and see if I like it enough, first.
Clever- I admire myself in my head.
Crowds of impatient students forcefully make their way through people, desperately trying to make it to class. I’m following him right now, ever so discretely. Stalking isn’t in my nature, but curiosity and determination is. I see his oddly dressed styled body go in a room on the right side of the building, and I quickly scan the large, packed room through the open door;
I see a lot of things, but nothing pointing to what this class is. My eyes quickly dart from the room to a man standing infront of me, a questioning look on his wrinkled face from old age.
“Can I help you, miss?”
I looked down at his clip tag, and saw the word “Professor”, and the word “Endocrinology.”
Bingo.
“Actually, yes. Is this your class right here?”
I nodded my head, giving direction of what class I was speaking about.
“Yes, it is. Are u one of my students?”
“I’m afraid not. I was thinking about auditing this class, if that would be fine with you, of course.”
“Hmm. Endocrinology is something I think you’d enjoy.”
I smirked, milking it for all it’s worth.
“Are u an undergraduate door any chance?
I hesistated.
“…Yes. But, I’m taking most upper classes.”
“I see. Well, go ahead and find a seat, if you’d like.”
I breathed a relief, and headed in, preparing for one long afternoon.
I muttered to myself, walking out of the now most surreal campus bibliotheek I have ever been to. My shoes make a rather annoying scratchy squeak at every step I make on the wet pavement. I try to focus on that, instead of him. Or, I could focus on the boeken he gave me. That wouldn’t exactly mean I was thinking about him… clearly hopelessly infatuated at the mere 3 minuut introduction (if that’s what u would even call it) and the much too-personal evaluation. Of course, it didn’t surprise me. I knew surely who he was. His name tag had read “Greg”. And, I surely knew who it was. His name floated around everywhere; he was an upper classmen, and a so called troublesome genius.
Night time had come fast… I discover, looking out the only window in this small, cramped dorm room. When I had gotten home pagina earlier today, I thought about what classes he might be taking. I’m smart and a good student; maybe it’s possible I could drop a class and take one of his. Then again, I could just audit one, and see if I like it enough, first.
Clever- I admire myself in my head.
Crowds of impatient students forcefully make their way through people, desperately trying to make it to class. I’m following him right now, ever so discretely. Stalking isn’t in my nature, but curiosity and determination is. I see his oddly dressed styled body go in a room on the right side of the building, and I quickly scan the large, packed room through the open door;
I see a lot of things, but nothing pointing to what this class is. My eyes quickly dart from the room to a man standing infront of me, a questioning look on his wrinkled face from old age.
“Can I help you, miss?”
I looked down at his clip tag, and saw the word “Professor”, and the word “Endocrinology.”
Bingo.
“Actually, yes. Is this your class right here?”
I nodded my head, giving direction of what class I was speaking about.
“Yes, it is. Are u one of my students?”
“I’m afraid not. I was thinking about auditing this class, if that would be fine with you, of course.”
“Hmm. Endocrinology is something I think you’d enjoy.”
I smirked, milking it for all it’s worth.
“Are u an undergraduate door any chance?
I hesistated.
“…Yes. But, I’m taking most upper classes.”
“I see. Well, go ahead and find a seat, if you’d like.”
I breathed a relief, and headed in, preparing for one long afternoon.