Apparently, it was on the top floor of the fucking library.
Wasn't psychology a social science? Why was it above the library and not in the social science building?
Whatever.
It would be fine,really, if it didn't start pouring.
Fucking hell.
I made my way towards the library, which was on a slight hill, so not only was I soaking wet, but now out of breath too.
I finally rushed into the hallway, my shoes leaving damp marks on the carpet floor.
So far, the only silver lining of being at KanderHill was that I got a single dorm, so at least I didn’t have to share my living conditions, but I’m starting to regret not trying a bit harder in my last college.
I should have graduated by now.
I gripped the hoodie tighter around myself, the dampness clinging to my skin.
I rushed to the elevator and hit the highest button.
Five.
I checked my phone; 7:58 p.m.
Damnit! I was so late, hopefully the professor wasn't a hardass. Maybe it's someone who liked pretty things, and I could bat my eyelashes a few times.
At my old college, this would be easy; all the teachers were slimy and pervy.
Unfortunately, this new college is proving to be a real pain in my ass.
Still, who the hell schedules a class at 7:00 p.m.? Were psych majors all nocturnal?
I glanced at my schedule again. Professor Thorne. PSYCH 203.
I see the elevator doors start to close.
“Please—hold the elevator!” A voice echoes down the hall.
I glance up. Someone is jogging toward me, their face hidden under a dark blue umbrella, one of those people whoactuallychecks the forecast.
I was already having a shitty day. A really shitty day.
So instead of holding it, I leaned forward and pressed the ‘close door’ button.
It was the first thing all day that made me smile. A vicious joy clawing at my chest.
Unfortunately, he reached it anyway, wedging his hands between the doors. The metal groaned as they slid open.
Stupid delay.
“Gee, thanks,” he muttered, snapping his umbrella shut.
I plastered on a smile, voice pitched light. “Sorry I didn’t—”
He turned, and his dark brown eyes met mine.
My mouth went dry. “I—sorry, didn’t hear you,” I stumbled, coughing like an idiot.
