Another thing I like about college is being friends with Roth, I would literally be all by myself if it wasn’t for him, we don’t have an awesome relationship and we don’t even talk outside this building but still, he is the only person I can truly rely on... Sometimes.
I try to sit as far as possible from the professor because every Tuesday we have this special debate class in which Ms. Greene chooses two different students to debate for two hours straight and obviously, I am not in the mood to debate right now. I never want to do it, to be honest. The whole class is supposed to listen to them and take down notes and such but some decide to lay their heads over the table, others to chat, and some people –like me– decide to do nothing and just stare at the ceiling.
After some weirdo attempt to have a conversation with Roth, he comes directly to me and takes a seat. He seems quite uncomfortable so I try not to make him feel even worse.
The professor comes into class with her exotic reddish hair at exactly seven o’clock. She seems really energetic and with lots of wanting to bother every student she has in front. Come on, it’s just seven in the morning; I can’t understand how it’s possible for people to be in such a good mood at this time of the fucking day.
Professor Greene smiles at the class and then shouts two random last names –I don’t really know who Fisher and Housman are– and then these two people stand up and walk straight to the front of the class and finally stop right beside her, looking ashamed.
I never pay attention at what’s going on in class but now I have nothing more interesting to do so I decide to take a look at the situation. I am grateful I wasn’t called to participate in the debate because I would have literally told the professor I didn’t want to do it, and the whole class would have laughed at me, and I would have definitely wanted to go to another country and sell myself as meat.
"Oh, Dear Housman, you should talk about the benefits of literature as regards culture." Greene talks with her absolutely enthusiastic voice and looks at the brunette girl –which seems to be Housman– and nods at her with lots of energy. I can tell by Housman’s hair and eyes that she hasn’t woken up already.
She turns to look at the boy and speaks directly to him "Fisher, you obviously have to deny what your lovely opponent says and talk about the disadvantages of literature." She smiles and then adds, "Try to make it interesting, okay?"
"Okay." They both answer at the same time.
My interest in the class disappeared from a second to another and now, I am drawing doodles on a random sheet of paper I found before on the floor. I have this amazing idea to write a little letter to Roth, so I start it like this:
Hey. I am exhausted. Talk to me.
—Cal
I fold the piece of paper into four exact pieces and give it to him; he is sitting right behind me so I can’t look at his reaction.
Two minutes later I feel the paper over my shoulder, so I unconsciously grab it and open it.
I wont talk 2 u, I will write 2 u haha lol
—R
He has an extremely hideous handwriting, and I have always hated his grammar mistakes and how he writes "2" instead of "to", or "U" instead of "you", AND LET’S NOT EVEN TALK ABOUT LOL. I never complain about it because I am not a perfect person to judge others but personally, I hated it all my life, and I’ll always will.
Haha you’re not funny. Write to me then.
Tell me what you were up to yesterday and don’t avoid me, Roth, please. I want to know.
—Cal
He is taking a lot of time to answer me, so I decide to turn around and look at him; he is not writing, he is thinking while staring at the paper that it is not over the table anymore, but in between his hands. I start to get worried... What’s going on that it’s so important? I don’t know but I would love to.
I grab another paper and start writing again...
What is it? Trust me
—Cal
I don’t wait until he grabs the paper; I just place it on his desk. I am feeling a little bit bothered. Why doesn’t he tell me? Gosh, I can’t even think of any possibilities.
I cant and its none of your business
dont take it personally
—R
None of my business? I don’t have to take it personally? What is wrong with him? I cannot believe what I have just read. I am his friend or at least I was. Again… What the hell is wrong with him? Did I do something wrong? I don’t know, but I can’t stand it. I am trying to contain my anger but I don’t really know if I am capable to do it.
"Mrs. Von Steemberg," suddenly, somebody says by the speaker, and at first I don’t realize that he is actually calling my name but when I do, I kind of get shocked. "Please come to the principal’s office," he orders and then all I hear is silence.
Everyone at the class is looking at me, even Mrs. Greene. I convince myself that I need to show myself strong, that I am not scared of anything. I honestly don’t know what to do, so I just stay at my place. Maybe they were calling another Von Steemberg but I can’t take that risk and simply don’t go to the office. And besides, my last name is not common at all, so it’s obvious that the one called was mine.
"I—I, um, I think I, um, should go, professor," I managed to speak and stand up afterwards.
"Sure, dear," she replies kindly.
I take my backpack awkwardly and while I do, I turn my gaze to Roth.
"What’s going on?" he whispers looking extremely worried. Really? Are you going to ask what’s wrong when you did not tell me what was going on with you and then exclaim that I don’t have to take it personally? Seriously, Roth? I am not that stupid but excuse me, you definitely are.
"None of your business," I reply. I don’t want to be such a dork as he was before but I am more furious with him right now than scared of what's yet to come. "Don’t take it personally," I sigh and turn around. I would pay a million bucks to look at his face after I told him that, but I wouldn't be sassy enough if I had stayed there to look at him.
I leave the class with everyone’s eyes on my back and start walking to the principal's office, although I don’t know where the hell it is since I’ve never been in there before.
I take a look at the signs that are very helpful for lost people –such as myself– and follow the directions; I have to go to the second floor and then walk straight to the right. So I do.
As I am reaching the office I feel more and more nervous in every step I take. When I finally get there, I realize that it is occupied. I don't really know what is going on over there, and I can't listen a thing either, so I try to pull myself together and take a seat, waiting for my turn.
I find myself playing with the sleeves of my pullover, biting my lower lip really hard and moving my legs uncontrollably. These are the consequences of my nervousness that is taking over my mind and body. I am mostly nervous because I don't know why I have been called here, I need explanations right now; if not someone is going to get extremely pissed.
All of a sudden the door opens really fast and someone gets out laughing, I look up and there he is; Theodore, giggling with a big smile on his face. He is looking even more handsome than yesterday, I can't even explain how sexy he looks with his hair pulled back and all tidy. I wonder if I am drooling at the moment or if I am staring at him with a stupid look or something like that.
"See you soon, Mr. Kowalsky," the principal exclaims.
Kowalsky, I like it.
I thought I would never see him again and that made me think it wasn't worth living anymore. I am not exaggerating, I felt something extraordinary when I first talked to him and I have never felt this way.
"Hi," he sings without stopping his walk, "Good luck," he adds smiling at me with both his mouth and his beautiful dark eyes.
"What? Hey," I state confused “I don’t get it." He is now further than he was before, and I am more confused than I was earlier.
"You’ll see," he exclaims, reaches the staircase and disappears.
“Why won’t anybody tell me what the heck is going on today?” I mumble to myself.
CHAPTER FOUR
"Hello, Mrs. Von Steemberg," says the man with a loud voice while coming out of the principal’s office. He is pretty handsome for his age; I think he is over forty years old. That suit he is wearing makes him look absolutely stunning.
Honestly, I kind of hate my surname this days, everyone at this fucking college says “Von Steemberg” in a really creepy way, as if they were calling an absolutely important person. I don’t know, it’s just the way they pronounce it, I guess.
"Hello, sir," I say and pull a little smirk. I don't know if I am supposed to stretch my hand to him or give him a polite kiss on the cheek or just stare at him smiling like an idiot, like I am doing right now.
"Come inside and take a seat," he demands and I nod as I start walking towards the room.
I take a seat and realize that he has a nice sign at his desk that writes "Joshua L. Abernathy"; that is definitely an interesting name.
"How is your day going?" he asks politely after taking a seat. He grabs his hands and stares at me with a look of interest. I start to feel less uncomfortable than I was before.
"Fine, I guess. I am just confused, sir," I speak and take a deep breath. "How are you?"
"I am brutal, thank you for asking," Joshua smiles at me and I smile him back as if I were trying to say you're welcome. "Why are you confused?" he asks.
"I don't know what's going on." I try not to get stuck while speaking because I will look like I don't know how to speak in front of adults and that would be embarrassing.
"I called you for a reason, but this is not a punishment, it's just a call of attention," he states and I stay completely quiet because I am dying to know what I have done.
"Some people, including students and few teachers, saw you coming out from the men’s bathroom," he comments, takes a short pause and waits for an answer, which I can't give to him because I am absolutely clueless.
"The guy who was here before was seen with you and—"
"It was my fault," I interrupt the beginning of his speech.
"Mrs. Von Steemberg, I appreciate your honesty but I just want you to know that this is not like school anymore." He coughs and changes position silently. "We are not going to put you in detention or suspend you for a week because you are in college and we feel that you are mature enough to learn from your mistakes and try not to repeat them afterwards." He seems so nice and kind that I don't care if he puts me in detention, to be honest.
"I, um, didn't realize I was in the men’s bathroom until I saw him, I mean, Theodore," I hissed and he laughs a little bit. I am utterly ashamed about it but if it wasn't for my clumsiness I wouldn’t have gotten into the wrong place, therefore never getting to talk to Theodore or see him.
"Are you sure?" he asks doubtfully.
"I am not lying to you."
"I know, he told me. I was just testing you," he giggles and pulls a little smirk. I don’t really get his point. "I am sorry about my misplaced attitude towards the situation but when something like this happens, we always set our mind with the most dramatic situation for us to be ready to face the worst. For example, when a professor told me that he or she saw two teenagers getting out of the same bathroom, I started looking for some condoms, you know. So when I found out that it was a misunderstood I was relieved. Because under our roofs, you are my responsibility, and I will help you as long as you need my help." He is really into this speech and seems proud of what he has just said. While he waits for me to speak, he is smiling like a little kid, showing his perfect and shiny white teeth.
The last sentence seemed like a shitty motto he is bounded to say when talking to students, maybe to make them feel a little bit important and to generate trust among them; It works, to be honest, whatever the intention it has, it really does work, because I am feeling special, as if I am the best student and that he cares about me the most, but sadly, I am exactly the same as the other ones, and he probably doesn’t give a shit about me.
Regarding what the principal has just said, I wish it was; I wish it was sex that we were having in there, I wish it was more than a confusion, I wish it actually was something. But it wasn’t.
"What’s on your mind? You are very silent," he says, and I blink twice like he has just woken me up from a daydream.
I am thinking about sex, you know. "Nothing, really," I lie.
"Okay." We remain in silence for about two minutes and everything about him starts feeling legitimately awkward.
"It’s everything alright at home?" he asks breaking the silence as if he certainly cares, but he is obviously just trying to get out of this awful situation. And besides, why the heck he has the guts to ask me about my private life?
"What’s the point? We were talking about other stuff," I tell with a tone of disinterest.
"I know but I moved on, and now I am asking you something else," he says and several seconds later he adds, as if I am okay with the fact that he decided to move on and I would love to answer all his inquiries, "Is everything okay?"
"Yeap," I tell.
"Are you sure, young lady?" He is seriously starting to annoy me.
"Why you keep underestimating me?" I question him.
"I am not," he denies.
"So please, stop making me feel like I am such a liar."
"I am sorry, it is not my intention." He is staring at me all serious, and I have the urge to punch him directly in between his big eyebrows just above his nose.
"Sure," I say sarcastically.
"It truly isn’t. I just want to know if everything is right on its place." It is but your face won't be if you keep talking to me like that.
"Why wouldn’t it?" I ask while tightening all the features of my face and also hardly clenching my fists. I am not angry at him, by the way, I just feel that I have many emotions trapped inside my body which are taking over now.
"Don’t be rough, Von Steemberg. I care about you, we all do." He is now talking to me as if I were a psychopath who has a terrible mental illness that can't be cured and as if he was giving me emotional support and trying to make me feel important and loved. CAN HE JUST STOP?
"I am okay. Endpoint," I sigh angrily.
"I know your dad left you and your mom lots of years ago. I want to help you, Mrs. Von Steem—"
"HELP ME? SERIOUSLY? WHAT CAN YOU DO TO HELP ME, HUH? HOOK UP WITH MY MOM IF YOU WANT TO MAKE HER FEEL BETTER, BUT SERIOUSLY? DO YOU WANT TO HELP ME? I DON’T HAVE A FATHER AND THAT’S IT, YOU CAN’T HELP ME. MIND YOUR OWN BUSINESS. JEEZ." I get up from that fucking chair and yell directly at him, I don't care if I interrupted him. His eyes are huge and his lips, tensed. He was definitely not expecting such a scandalous reaction like mine, but I feel kind of relieved, to be honest. Now I understand why Mr. Montgomery hasn’t been kicked out yet; I was completely right and everyone in here is arrogant as hell.
"I think you need to take a deep breath and calm down." I can't understand how he can stay calm and still. If I were him I would have already kicked my ass and get me expelled from fucking college. But I am not that reposeful like he is and that’s the reason why I could never be on his place and respect some random freak teenager girl a.k.a. Calypso that starts yelling at me totally out of her mind.
"And I think you should shut the fu— Shut up." I know that I am overreacting but I love drama and I am not scared of him because he is definitely not going to kick me out from his own college because that means less money and a worse reputation. If something like this happens, I am totally capable of making it a huge scandal and beyond any doubts I will publish something like "Joshua Abernathy —principal of a college in Boston— has kicked out an innocent girl with no father". Awesome.
"You are seriously struggling at the moment because; let me tell you that if you weren't, you would definitely not react that way. We have some specialists in college that may give you a hand." I seriously can't believe how he is still trying to help m
e. Give up already, dude. I decide to stay quiet and look like I am pissed but at the same time I pretend that I don't care, although I don't need to pretend, because I honestly don't care. I am just arguing and shouting at him because is fun. I sit back on the chair.
"I am sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you," he apologizes kindly. How does he do it? I want the antidote; I bet he takes lots of chill pills between hours.
"Well, you did. And I don’t need any hand," I let him know for approximately the fifth time straight.
"Aright, lady, when you decide to seek some help, please come to me," he says while writing something down on a little yellow post it. When he finishes, he gives it to me and it turns out being his number, I think. I literally grab the piece of paper in one hand with no intentions of looking interested on it, because I. Don't. Need. Help.
"Is this some kind of prank or something? Cause I feel that you are totally trying to get me even more pissed than you already did," I say after taking a deep breath to calm a little bit down my nerves.
"Let me tell you it is not," he speaks warmly.
"This is useless," I affirm straight after he finishes talking.
"I don't think so," he denies, moving his head repeated times from left to right.
"Ugh. I am done," I gasp, stand up from the comfy chair and start walking through the door; wishing this situation was over twenty minutes ago.
"Von Steemberg, let me tell you that your anger shows that yo—"
"I SAID I AM DONE," I interrupt him and get out, slamming the door as I leave, which makes some people look directly at me and start whispering things. I couldn’t do anything more intelligent than look at all of the ones that were looking with a fuck-you-all face. I tried to hear what Mr. Abernathy was about to say but I was getting extremely pissed and wasn't enjoying the conversation anymore.
Till We Rise Page 3