I'm dreading my next class, but I'm trying my best to not let my emotions surface.

Literature. And of course, there just had to be a freaking creative writing course attached to it. I'm wondering what it will be like to be in such a class again where I'm going to have to write and read again.

I haven't even written down one single word since senior year...not since the Award Night. I shake my head as I find my building. I refuse to think about my parents right now.

I walk in, enjoying the clean and crisp, yet homey inside. There's a multitude of hallways and doors with a large space that reminds me of a lobby. As I look around I notice a small coffee stand perched in the corner by the stairs and I can't help but grin and roll my eyes. Of course the English building has a coffee vendor.

I finally make my way to my class, noticing that I'm the first one here which satisfies me. I can't help but scoff. It baffles me that others allow themselves only a couple minutes before class. Suddenly the door opens, and I'm greeted by hundreds of students attempting to get around me. Suddenly I'm feeling like a young Simba stuck in a gorge, surrounded by hundreds of thousands of wildebeests. Okay...maybe I do understand why others wait.

After my herd of wild students finally surpass me, a man with a sharp jaw, strong nose and brown wavy hair pass me. He's wearing a maroon button up, the sleeves folded at his elbows. His pants are a dark khaki, which kind of remind me of Cyrus. He walks past me, a rolling bag following suit. Well at least another student has decided to come early.

I walk into the empty doors and notice a few others have taken seats in the giant lecture hall. I immediately find a spot near the front, as per usual, take out my notebook and pens, and wait. When I look up, I realize that the man with the maroon shirt is at the front, messing around with some things on the desk.

No way...that's my professor? He looks so..young and full of full of life. 

Slowly, the students pour in and someone familiar plants themselves next to me. 

"Sara, right?" He asks, swiping his hair to the side. I recognize that nice smile and nervous look. "Peter! You're in Literature 201?" I ask. He nods.

"Yeah, I need the extra credits and I always kind of fancied English, so I figured why not, you know?" He says, setting his stuff beside me. I smile and nod.

"So, how was is your first day so far?" He asks with a genuine grin. I find it contagious and I'm smiling now too.

"Not bad. My Stats professor is kind of boring, but could be worse. You?" I ask. He tells me that the broadcasting course he's enrolled in is the best in the state. I nod and enjoy all that he has to tell me. His eyes light up in a way that I'm envious of, but I shake it off and let him speak about journalism.

We finally stop our chatting when the professor speaks.

"That guy looks like he could be our age," Peter says with a raised eyebrow.

"I know!" I whisper back and he chuckles.

"Good evening. I am professor Keenan, and you will address me as such. Welcome to Lit 201, and please, can we hold off on the 'it's lit' jokes?" he says with a smirk, letting a few of us giggle to ourselves. Yet, I'm pretty sure most of the giggles came from the girls. I roll my eyes at them, but I too am giggling at his jokes.

"As it's only the first day, I will of course hand out a syllabus. I hope you've all brought your copy of Jane Eyre as I had emailed all of you to do."

I feel my heart stop and I my palms sweat. I look anxiously around the room, as does Peter and a few others. We all have horrified expressions, and then confused when Professor Keenan starts to laugh.

"I'm just messing around. We won't need that book till later. No, instead, we're going-" I hear an abundance of relieved sighs.

"Who does that?" I hiss to Peter who laughs. "At least he has a sense of humor...although it's a bit twisted," He replies. I laugh before paying attention.  Our first assignment is to introduce ourselves to our neighbors. Only our names. Then, we have to write a story about the life we think they have. 

I pick up a pen, and as I'm about to write, I freeze and can hear my  blood pulsing. My breath is shaky, and I'm having a hard time getting air into my throat which is hot and dry. I close my eyes, trying to write something. Anything. A simple story. A stereotyped, first-look judgement based story. It  is so easy and yet, I can't bring myself to even have the pen touch the paper.

When I look up, Professor Keenan is staring at me, his eyes are quizzical and I can tell he's trying to understand what is possibly possessing me to withhold myself from writing.

There's blood rushing to my head and as I'm about to gather my things and run, the door opens. I snap my head to the door, only to see the one and only Luke with his backpack in one hand, lazily hanging to the ground.

"Mr. Rivers. So, you're taking my class now?" Professor Keenan questions him with an unamused stare.

Luke flashes him a very fake smile. "Oh c'mon, I just absolutely adore reading and writing." Luke scans the room and when his eyes land on me, he rolls his eyes. I glare at him, hoping he can feel it in his blood. 

Professor Keenan ignores Luke and continues to look through his things on the large desk.

I watch Luke with cautious eyes  as he comes to the front row, making his way towards me. I stiffen against my seat and force my eyes onto my own paper, which is still blank. When I glance at Peter's, he's halfway down the first page.

Great. Not only can I not even manage to write a simple story, I'm stuck sitting next to the biggest jerk on the planet.

He takes a seat, reeking of cigarette smoke and cologne. It's not a horrible combination, it's actually kind of soothing. I gape at myself before biting my tongue.

"Nice to see you too, Sweatpants," Luke whispers as he pulls out a piece of paper and begins to write. I try to focus on my own paper, but my hand does not let the pen touch the paper.

"You know, you're supposed to actually put the pen to the paper, move it around, and create a sentence." Luke whispers in my ear with a zealous smirk on his face. I inch away from him, my brain feeling foggy.

I try to ignore him, and I realize that it's been twenty minutes. Peter is just about done, wrapping up his last thoughts. Even Luke, much to my surprise, has managed to write something.

"Alright, I'd like to hear what a few of you have to say," Professor Keenan says, catching the attention of everyone.

Oh God, I really hope he doesn't call on me as he overlooks a clipboard in his hand.

"Ms...Farris," he looks around the room and I want to shrink into my seat. I stay quiet, wishing the earth to just swallow me whole. 

I look around, and notice that both Peter and Luke are staring at me and I can hear my own heartbeat pounding within my chest cavity. I can hear the blood rushing to my head. I think I'm going to be sick.

"I'd like to share," Peter then says with a raised hand. The professor says nothing for a moment. "Very well." He waits for Peter, and I let out a sigh of relief, taking a deep breath for a second. 

"I um, wrote about my partner here," Peter says, glancing at me. I'm beyond thankful for his help, but I know it can only go so far.

"And her name?"

"Sara, and I just wrote her life story as the girl who has a lot of friends, maybe even a few admirers. Her parents are together, and were high school sweethearts, and she's a very kind person," Peter says, his cheeks flushing. I smile politely at him.

"Not bad-"

"I also wrote about Sara."

The voice on the other side of me beams with malice and deviousness in his voice. I look over at Luke and prepare myself for what he is about to say. I know it won't be good.

"Very well, since you'll be gaining participation points," the professor says with a sigh.

Luke clears his throat, mockingly with his nose in the air. 

"Sara. Sara is the girl that is very snobbish, with poor taste." I ball up my fists, and hear some behind us chuckle.

"And she grew up overly loved and protected and shielded from the big, bad world around her. With such protection, it then follows that Sara has no idea what the real world is like, let alone the real people in it. And because she does not understand them, she fails to communicate, finding herself above all others which will then lead to a very sad and lonely, very pathetic life."

There are a few students laughing in the beginning but now they're silent, as am I when Luke finishes. There are tears pooling in my eyes that threaten to betray me. 

I keep my eyes plastered on the blank space in front of me. Luke seems very pleased with himself. I wish to leave the room, but then I'm even more exposed and will seem like a complete lunatic and loser.

"Um, thank you for your very colorful imagination, as always Mr. Rivers." I think I hear some of the students laugh, but I can't bring myself to really listen. I'm stuck in my head, replaying the cruel words from Luke, and the disappointment my parents probably have for me. 

I spend the rest of the class in my head, holding back my tears. 

"Are you okay?" Peter whispers to me near the end of the class. I have no idea what is happening, or what we're talking about.

"I'm good," I croak, forcing a smile. But when class ends I bolt out of there as fast as humanly possible. Peter tries to catch up to me, but I try my best to tell him I can't talk, that I need to get to my dorm. I don't know where that Luke is, but if I see him, I'll wring his neck.

I make it to my dorm, thrusting the door open. Luckily, Elena isn't here yet, so I thrust myself onto my bed and cry. 

I cry because of how mean Luke is. I cry because I was so useless in class today, unable to complete my first assignment. I cry because I can longer do the one thing that I loved. I cry because Luke is right, I am pathetic.  

I cry until my throat is raw and tired, my eyes are dry and heavy. Before I know it, the sun has gone down and my eyes have fallen victim to sleep. My dreams are filled with mean boys who smoke and have tattoos, papers and pens.

"Hey..hey, wake up." A hushed voice attempts to awaken me. I'm nudged a little harder, causing my eyes to open.

I look up to see a worried Elena sitting on my bed, her pinned back from her face.

"Hey, um, someone came up here earlier. Peter?" She asked. I said nothing. "He asked if you were okay. So. Why would he ask?" She questions gently with a smile.

I sit up in my  bed, and notice how exhausted I feel. I look out the window. I quite literally cried myself to sleep. 

"Um, crappy first day," I try to chuckle. Elena smiles. "I get that. My first day of college, I ended up having the nervous shits. But don't worry, it happens. The week will end up flying by!"

I frown, not wanting to even think about the rest of the week.

"So...you and Peter?" Elena asks with a devious smirk. 

I smile at her before she can get any crazy ideas. "We're only friends...I think anyway. I've only talked to him a couple times and we had class together today."

"Well, he seemed pretty worried about you," She says with the click of her tongue. 

"Anyways, there's a party this weekend. It's Eli's birthday weekend and he's turning twenty-one so  get ready for a wild ride!" She squeals gleefully. 

"Oh, I-I'm not sure. I don't even know him that well, and I'm only nineteen so-"

"Oh come on! We don't need to worry about the details. And Eli said you can come!"

I want to ask her why she wants me to come so badly, but Bec's words ring in my head about making friends. Maybe that's what Elena is trying to do - be my friend.

"Is Luke going?" I ask before I can think. She raises a curious brow. "Yeah, him and Eli are like, fuck buddies so..."

"He's gay?"

God, the more I ask about him the crazier and more obsessed I sound! Elena must feel that way as well.

"No, I'm just messing around. Why, do you...like him?" She asks slowly.

I gasp. "No! Of course not! He's awful and mean!" I hiss with harshness that I wish I could direct at him. She raises her arms in defense. 

"Okay, crouching tiger! Jesus, don't go ripping my head off."

I mutter an apology before I force myself to get ready for the week ahead of me.