I meet a couple of people at dinner that seem nice. I eventually come across a girl called Winona who likes to be called Winnie and I think to myself 'like the bear' but I don't say it out loud. She seems very nice and a little posh but like she's trying not to be. She's doing English and History just like me so we'll be in the same classes.
At the end of the night, I go back to my room, shout a goodnight to the mysterious roommate and turn off my lamp. I can see her lamp on underneath the curtain and I can hear her music so I guess she just hates me.
The next morning, I get up early to call Junie. We talk for a little while and when we hang up, I suddenly miss her so much. I love having my little sister to look after all the time, I feel like she needs me. At the same time, she doesn't seem to be missing me very much yet. I get ready and stick little gems to my left cheekbone, just like her.
I have a two hour long lecture for English literature which I can't wait for. I get there really early when hardly anybody else is there. I'm second only to Winnie who is sat right at the front.
"Hello." she looks up from her book. She's reading The Great Gatsby, the book we were told to bring for today.
I smile as I sit down beside her. "Hi. How long have you been here?"
"Twenty minutes. I thought I'd get a feel of the book before we began." she grins. "I love it."
"I've read it." I nod. "It's amazing."
There's this lovely feeling between us, that amazing feeling of brand new friendship where we just starting to learn things about each other, where we love the fact that we have a new person in our lives, even if we just think all of those things in our head. We discuss it for a little while as more and more people flood into the lecture room. I recognise a few from the dinner last night and smile at them and they smile back.
The last in the room is our professor, Mr Feyson. I'm a bit shocked. I guess it was wrong of me to assume, but I was waiting for this old guy with a beard. Mr Feyson is actually young, he looks about our age even if he is a little bit older. He has reddish brown hair and he's fairly thin. He looks like the nerd of the class as if everybody is going to pick on him with his quiet disposition but at the same time, he almost radiates confidence as he looks out at all of us.
"He's goregous." Winnie gasps, looking him up and down.
I stare at her, eyes wide. "Are we looking at the same person? I mean, he's alright, but seriously?"
She just laughs it off as Mr Feyson starts talking.
"Hello everybody." he calls out. He sounds so youthful, just like any of the boys in here. "It's great to see all of you here wanting to learn about English! It's a great subject. Now, I'm Mr Feyson, I'm only a year out of university myself so don't try and get around me, I know all of your little tricks."
Everybody laughs a little and he begins the lecture. We start by reading the first chapter of the book. I get so involved all over again, I forget where I am and what I'm doing so by the time he has stopped reading it out loud and has started a conversation with everybody, I am still thinking about The Great Gatsby. It makes sense that that book is what made me fail Science as I read it instead of revising, but it's a bit ironic that it's going to get me in trouble in English. I start doodling in my notebook amongst my notes, little illustrations of that green light from the book.
"What about you, sparkly?" I hear him say. I don't think much of it until nobody replies. I look up just in case he's speaking to me and the look on his face as he stares straight at me tells me he is. Once the initial shock passes, I look at him properly.
"Excuse me?" I ask.
"I said what about you, sparkly." he says, putting his hands in his pocket.
I raise an eyebrow. "Sparkly?"
He gestures to his cheekbone and I remember the gems I put there this morning. "Maybe if you spent less time worrying about that sort of thing and concentrated during your lectures, you'd be a lot better off."
I laugh a little. "Maybe if you spent less time insulting your students and actually asked questions about English rather than continuing to insult your students, a lot more people would listen."
There's a murmur around the room and I suddenly feel like I'm in secondary school again. He raises his eyebrows.
"Alright then. I was asking who had read the book and a lot of people hadn't. What about you?" he asks, looking at me smugly as if I'm stupid.
"I have read it." I tell him, honestly.
He pauses and then nods. "Okay. What made you want to read it?"
I shrug. "It was on my shelf and it wasn't being read."
He narrows his eyes at me a little bit. "So? What's wrong with an unread book if you have no interest in it to begin with?"
"Well an unread book is an injustice in my opinion."
He looks at me for a moment and then nods. He doesn't say anything, he just turns to talk to another person and I turn back to my notebook and keep drawing that green light.