Chapter 3: Chapter 3
I peruse the textbook to pass the time, not even bothering to try to make friends. There is some commotion in the back seats, probably to fight for the last seat of all, when the professor enters the room. The noises die away as if someone sucked the air out of the space, and I look up to see an austere woman striding in with the elegance of a swan. Mrs. Lorraine Dawson is wearing a plain blue blazer and pants, her demeanour calm and strict. Her black silky hair is tied back in a bun at her nape. She stands tall and perfectly straight, and her beady eyes shine through her round-framed glasses. Her pale face is unblemished and she wears no makeup apart from the deep scarlet lipstick. She looks way too younger than her Fifty years, and my first impression of the woman is one of utmost respect and immediate fear. Perhaps, this is why the class is so silent.
Mrs. Dawson begins by introducing the new students, and I happen to be the first one. As she moves through the crowd that is seated at the back, I decide that her demeanour is more strict than frightening. She starts by giving an overview of the last session, in which she had lectured on the origin of the Anglo-Saxon community in Britain, and the literature that came with them. One hour passed in a whirl, as she took us through the wildings of Germany and Danes, and the Background of Beowulf, the first known English poem. Before I knew it, the bell had rung.
I leave the classroom with a new found vigour and optimism. It definitely wouldn't be so bad.
The last class is of Greek Mythology, and since I have studied almost nothing in school about it, apart from the bits and pieces referenced in the classics, I am excited. I look around and get a slight shock. Faheem is waving at me from the left. I wave back and grin at him. He comes over.
"Hey, didn't see you in the break. Where have you been?" He asks me.
"Oh, you know. Just roaming the college campus on my own. I didn't know where to find you guys. And not many here are keen of being friends with me. I don't know why." I try to smile.
"Hey! Don't be bothered about it. Most of these people have zero sense anyway. They are born with a silver spoon. Except a few of them, but its probably better to stay away from them, I guess. Anyway, here's my number. Give me a call the next time you need to, though we mostly stay at the cafeteria or near the big, broken building in the back of the grounds during the break."
We exchange numbers as the class fill in. I was putting my phone in my pocket when the doors open once again and most of the class falls silent. I look up to see the girl I had seen during the break in the morning walks in. Every eye is on her as she strides up to the last row in the corner and the few students who had been fighting for the seat scramble and fall over each other to get out of the way. She doesn't look at them as she takes the seat just vacated by a boy who tripped over, and pulls out her books on the desk. I finally have a good look on her. She is tall, but not too much. Her stature is broad, and she wears a black leather jacket on top of a dark green fitted top, and black jeans. She wears olive green trekking shoes that look expensive. Her hair is thick and wavy, that falls below her waist and over her caramel face. Everyone looks at her in awe until the professor enters the room and everyone seems to come out of their trance and move to their respective seats. Mr. Aaron Yancey, a man with a round and jolly face beams up at us as he launches in the exciting background of the Trojan War, of Homer's 'Illiad' and 'Odyssey' and the basic myths and rituals. The class is very exciting, and for a whole hour, I forget everything else as I submerge myself in the History and Myths of Ancient Greece.
The bell rings too soon and I rise to find Faheem standing near my desk with his satchel already packed. He helps me put my things away and we leave the class together to find the others. On the way to the grounds, I remember.
"Hey, Faheem. Who was that girl in the last row?"
"Oh, her name is Samantha Sammons. Your roommate." He grimaces as if feeling sorry for me.
"Oh!" I don't know what to say. "Umm, why is everyone scared of her?"
"Scared, awed, hate, in love. Call it whatever you want. But everyone has strong feelings regarding this person. Ayush loves her, but he wets himself everytime he sees her." He giggles.
"Why is that?" I am so curious to know about my room mate.
"Well," he frowns, "no one actually knows why. I was in her old school, but I knew almost nothing about her, since she was an year older than me. I don't remember much about her except that she used to be popular, topper girl and all that. But she had a lot of friends and she used to smile at everything and everyone, and now she doesn't. And I don't know what changed, but her colours were bright and sunny back then, but now she wears dark all the time. I mean, a little bit here and there would have been alright, but such a complete change in personality. For a while, I didn't realise it was her, but I had a few pictures from the Yearbook and it is her, alright."
"So something happened after she joined here?Something that made her brooding and silent? "
"Probably," he shrugs, "but it could be a phase as well, you know, the goth phase, or something. Or maybe the sunny, bright character is not particularly becoming in a college campus, so she decided to make herself popular by joining the goth gang. I'd say it's working though."
"Don't let Ayush hear you talking like that." I smirk.
"What's he gonna do? Tell Samantha and wet himself in the process?" He guffaws.
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