part0024

My first day of college and I’m late, that silly song playing in my head again. “Yes, sorry, professor…” I trail off as I’m met with the most piercing blue eyes I’ve ever seen.

Lost for words, all I can do is stare at the man before me. Black hair hangs just before his shoulders like obsidian silk. But it’s those eyes that transfix me, haunt me even, right where I stand. And then, lastly, when he turns I notice the oddest thing…half of his face is covered in a black mask. He picks up on the moment, a slight snarl forming around his teeth. “You may call me…” he stops, and I don’t miss how his fist tightens in anger. “I’m Mr. Winchester, now, please take your seat.” His eyes flash to the window. “Today we’ll be discussing human behavior, take out your notebooks.”

Unzipping my bag, I attempt to pull out a notebook and pen, but before that can happen my elbow knocks my plastic cup of coffee over. The tan liquid bleeds into the white linoleum floor, and I rush to stand up.

Mr. Winchester has already crossed the room, causing me to jump in surprise. “Shall I add clumsiness along with tardiness to your dizzying attributes, Ms. Vale?” He hands me a few napkins, his thumb lingering on the pulse at my wrist.

A chill runs down my spine at his boldness. “Thank you, sir,” I apologize shakily. “I’m sorry, it was an accident.”

“Accidents are always unfortunate,” he says darkly, leaning in. “What do you think, Ms. Vale?”

There’s an odd glint in his eyes, and his true meaning isn’t lost on me. “No, and to think that way is a bit cynical if you ask me,” I fire back, suddenly feeling hostile. I mean, who is he to make that kind of judgement on a person he’s just met? It’s obvious he’s used to people judging him along with whatever might be hidden under that mask.

His lip curls in apparent displeasure. “Clean up this mess,” he orders, briskly walking away and back to his desk.

Even if he is a mega asshole; I can’t help but admire his beautiful, mysterious face.

After cleaning the stickiness off the floor, I finally take my seat. It’s then that I realize I’ve garnered some interest and more than a few stares. Instead of letting it bother me, I assume my initial task and pull out a notebook. I’ve been waiting too long to get into this college to let something like this break my spirit.

“Hey, I’m Jesse,” the guy beside me whispers, and I immediately notice his black flannel and hazel eyes. “What’s your name?”

“Hannah,” I whisper back, biting my lip in nervousness.

He smirks. “Nice to meet you, Hannah Vale.”

“This isn’t tea time, Ms. Vale,” Mr. Winchester snaps from his desk. “Be quiet or get out.” His eyes are even bluer when he’s pissed.

“Sorry, Mr. Winchester,” Jesse mumbles under his breath, sitting back in his chair. “It’s my fault.”

Feeling somewhat embarrassed at being called out for a second time on my first day, I remain silent. Gazing down at my notebook, I feel my face heat to scorching levels. Taking a deep breath, I pick up my pen and prepare to take notes, but when I glance up Mr. Winchester is staring directly into my eyes.

The fire in his eyes is intimidating yet baseless. Being late is one thing, but it shouldn’t warrant this kind of reaction. Maybe tardiness really, really ticks him off. I need to remember that for the future, so I can avoid this kind of altercation. I came to this school to learn, after all, not to squabble with my teacher.

“Attention staff and students,” a nasally female voice says over the intercom, startling the classroom. “There’s a tornado warning in effect until five this evening, all classes are canceled for the rest of the day.” The intercom pops and then crackles.

There’s an audible sigh and then groan throughout the classroom. “Well, looks like you’re getting off easy today,” Mr. Winchester sighs, shuffling his papers before standing. “Class dismissed.”

The sky had looked rather gloomy this morning as I’d rushed from my dormitory to get a cup of coffee. Hopefully, this is nothing more than a precaution. Either way, this day isn’t shaping up the way I’d hoped.

“Crazy, huh?” Jesse, the guy sitting next to me, asks. “So much for our first day of college, right?”

I stand, gathering my belongings. “Yeah, I guess so,” I reply, a tendril of my own brown hair blocking my view as I pick up my bag.

“So, ah, you want to maybe go out and get some coffee sometime?” he asks sheepishly, tucking a hand in his jean pocket.

I stare into his eyes for a beat, gauging how to let him down gently. He seems sweet, but that’s not what I’m here for. I need to stay focused on my goals, and he would only be a distraction.

“Ms. Vale, I’d like to speak with you privately,” Mr. Winchester says, saving me from a response. “Now,” he adds, coming to stand in between Jesse and me.

“Okay,” I affirm, looking away from Mr. Winchester and towards Jesse. “See you around.”

Jesse appears flustered but covers it up an instant later. “Yeah, see you later,” he offers, cracking a half-smile.

Once he’s left the room, I turn to Mr. Winchester. “How can I help you, sir?”

“Don’t call me sir,” he demands, his ice-blue eyes flashing cold.

The man obviously has it out for me. “Well, um, what should I call you then?”

“Ethan,” he says softly, contradicting his previous tone. “You may call me Ethan.”

“Listen, err, Ethan,” I tell him, refusing to be intimidated. “I think we got off on the wrong foot, and I apologize for being late my first day. There’s really no excuse.” I smile pleasantly.

His eyes focus and follow my lips. “What is your excuse, Ms. Vale? I’m dying to know.”

I swallow, not really wanting to tell him the truth. “I’m not from around here,” I reveal with a sigh. “Actually, I’m just getting settled in. I guess, you could say, my excuse is an ordinary one…lack of sleep. Mixed in with some nervousness, and well, there you have it.”

He smiles for the first time. “Predictable,” he agrees, stalking closer. “And where are you from, Ms. Vale?”

“You can call me Hannah,” I tell him, deciding that I don’t quite like how my last name rolls off his tongue. “You know, since I’m calling you by your first name and all.”

“Where are you from, Hannah?” he asks again, a slight edge in his tone.

“Black Mountain,” I reveal, wondering at his intense curiosity. “It’s a little town In North Carolina, not much goes on there.”

His black hair gleams as he stands directly under the ceiling lamp, mere inches from being in my personal space. “I wouldn’t have guessed that, Hannah,” he whispers softly. “Your accent is almost undetectable.”

“Really?” I ask, taking a step back. “I guess, I never noticed.”

He takes up the space I just retreated. “I notice everything, Hannah Vale.” The way he says my name sets off an alarm inside my brain.