Kara
I never went to class unprepared.
Scratch that.
I never went to anything unprepared.
My mother had engrained in me, “When you’re late, you’re disrespecting yourself. When you don’t prepare, you disrespect yourself. Respect isn’t a seven-letter word; it’s an action that speaks volumes about you.”
Obviously, her lessons didn’t get through my brother’s thick head because he was late to everything.
He was supposed to pick me up at the airport, but he’d had a late night and I ended up calling an Uber and charging his forgetful butt. I could have flown directly to San Diego, but with all the canceled flights due to Mother Nature, the only last-minute flights that were available were landing at LAX.
LAX to San Diego wasn’t cheap. He was going to be short a hundred bucks tonight, but that was the least of his worries.
I didn’t plan on speaking to him until the next week.
Okay, maybe tomorrow.
Or maybe in a few hours.
I didn’t know anyone around here except for him and Scott, so I had no choice but to start speaking in syllables to my brother.
He’d know then how mad I was.
I had a hard time finding my dorm today, and I couldn’t get to class with two suitcases on hand, so I dropped by my dorm first, when I found it, before hightailing it to Econ and now, Quantum Mechanics.
Sure, it would have been easier if I had a driver to pick me up from the airport and drive me around school, but I swore that I wouldn’t speak to my mother if she had forced them on me this time around.
This time I was making my own choices.
Creating my own path.
Forging ahead with my own decisions and making my own mistakes.
Without the family name hanging over my head.
Without the expectations burdening my shoulders.
“Once a Chamberlane, always a Chamberlane.” Dad had molded that into my being from the time I was in the crib.
I couldn’t change my family even though I’d prayed for a different brother many times; but so far, life had taught me that anywhere where my last name was recognized, it created a spackle of judgment, impressions, and expectations that may or may not be realistic.
Kiki, text me.
Kiki, call me.
Sissy, you still mad?
My brother had texted me ten times in the past five hours, and I had to send his messages to voicemail because I loved him, but I couldn’t deal with him right then.
I knew he was busy, but it was not an excuse to leave me stranded at LAX.
I thought I made it clear that I was arriving at 6:35 in the morning. I barely had any sleep because I took the red eye due to some unfinished business that I had to finish before hightailing it to the airport. Dan, our family driver, might have been caught off guard by my haphazard appearance since I never left the house looking less than my mother’s expectations, but honestly, it was the best I could do.
Thank goodness Mom had already left for New York or I would have been stranded at home if she’d seen me in jeans and a hooded shirt. It didn’t matter if they were Chanel. To my mom, jeans were the devil. They were unfeminine and then she’d proceed to lecture me on what proper high-society Texan women wore.
I didn’t have the time to socialize with my roommate yet plus she was nowhere to be seen, so I quickly took a shower and took out my least rumpled blouse, changed into another pair of jeans (sorry, not so sorry, momma), and called it a success.
Going into class on the second week, even though it was technically the second day of the class, was no fun. I couldn’t start last week because again, unfinished business. I hated trying to catch up with the classes. Hanna, my best friend, said that a week wasn’t a big deal, but I knew she was also trying to calm me down.
Professors had already given out the syllabi and set the rules. Students had been introduced to each other or maybe some – there were a lot of classes that I’d been in where I only knew three or four people because college students are usually loners in class and social butterflies outside of them.
Anyways, all was well. Or should I say, all was going to go well.
Econ was okay. Professor Magenta was hard, but nothing I couldn’t handle. I was lucky to be able to sit in the front of her class because otherwise I’d have been disturbed by the jocks who were busy flirting with all the girls in the back of class.
Nothing on the jocks and the girls, but geez, wait til after class. Was an hour and ten minutes too much to ask to pay attention in class?
I’d looked at the map of San Diego University and I thought I had it all figured out. What I didn’t count on was how far the buildings were from each other. The Science Building looked so close to the Business and Econ structure, but oh my god, two and a half miles in heels was going to cause blisters on my feet tonight.
I thought of my brother while walking through the buildings and sports fields and as I crunched on my steps, I kept thinking why God wasn’t kind enough to exchange one for another.
I could’ve called Scott, but I knew he had early morning practice so I didn’t want to bother.
Sitting in the back of Quantum Mechanics wasn’t my preferred seat, but I was happy to make it a minute before class.
The class was going smoothly and I already had communications with Professor Milliken before coming in, so I knew where they were in the syllabus. I had to e-mail all of my professors last week because syllabi sometimes lie. After getting confirmations that all of them were following the syllabi, I did some heavy studying so that I would be prepared in class.
Heavy studying meant outside connection to the world was deterred.
I only came out of my room to hydrate, eat, do Pilates, run, and back to studying.
Junior year wasn’t going to be easy and the fact that I was changing schools now was going to make it difficult.
But there was no going back. I had no choice.
This was me, going forward.
Professor Milliken was discussing Bohr’s theory when a guy wearing a black and red cap caught his attention.
From my view, I gauged him to be as tall, if not taller, than my brother who was 6’4”. He had a dark green shirt on and I caught sight of his broad shoulders. Hanna loved abs. Me? I liked guys with big, broad shoulders.
I turned away because now wasn’t the time to ogle anyone.
Plus, I had Scott.
What did that make me?
Hoochie-like and eww.
Sure it’s not against the law to find other guys attractive, but to actively seek out and check out someone? That’s just icky.
So, I turned my focus on Professor Milliken who asked Guy with the Broad Shoulders a question to which he answered fabulously. Broad shoulders (ewww, stop thinking about them) and smart? Well, that’s a good catch for sure.
For someone else.
I thought Professor Milliken was done with the guy, but then he asked a follow-up question and really, honestly, trust me, I wasn’t going to interrupt, however, I sensed annoyance on the Professor’s part which deserved or undeserved did not need to happen on the second day of class.
My brother often called me Mother Teresa, which would be an insult to the Blessed Mother of Calcutta. I was nowhere near her graciousness, but he often teased me because he said I liked to save strays and defend those who were vulnerable.
Saving the belugas hardly called for canonization, but PETA gave me an award for it.
And as much as I loved fashion, I tried my best to not wear an animal’s skin all over my body.
For my sixteenth birthday, I didn’t ask for a super expensive car or a ridiculous party or early access to my trust fund, I asked my dad to give up hunting. My brother was furious because he loved to go on those hunts with Dad, but eventually he forgave me.
I’m pretty sure that guy with the immaculate shoulders, short cropped hair from the back, and tanned skin… Gee, what was wrong with me? I shouldn’t be objectifying anyone because I for sure hated it when someone did the same to me. All people saw was blonde hair and long legs and boom, they had me catalogued.
Anyways…I wasn’t going to say anything, but I saw the predatory, even if it was meek, look in Professor Milliken’s eyes, granted they were being blocked by his thick-rimmed glasses, and that he wanted to shame the guy in front of the class.
That raised the hackles of my inner Amazon so I blurted out, “Professor, may I?”
I gave Professor Milliken the standard argument against Bohr’s model. I didn’t want to elaborate because it would be boring to take up the whole class time, but once I saw that the Professor was somewhat satisfied, I stopped.
The petite lady beside me said, “Cool stuff” and I gave her a quick smile.
I went back to minding my own business when I felt a prickling sensation that someone was watching me.
I tried to focus on my notes, but I still felt the stare…
And as much as I didn’t want to –
I just had to.
I felt compelled to.
And in return, I saw him.
Hard, chiseled jaw.
Slightly broken before nose.
And chocolate brown eyes with brows that were raised as if in a challenge.
And a smirk, an arrogant smirk that made my insides ignite and form a mist of steam.
For the life of me, I couldn’t form an accurate response.
I didn’t know whether to keep looking at him or draw my eyes away.
Bella Swan, I’m sorry I laughed and I ridiculed you.
I now know how you felt when you saw Edward Cullen for the first time.
Or Jacob Black.
I’m sorry.
I found myself lowering my eyes because right then, if Professor Milliken asked me a question, I wouldn’t know what to say.
And that…
That was scary.