Chapter 1:
# Elizabeth
He doesn't know I exist.
For the umpteenth time in forty-five minutes, I glance at Arthur Pendragon. he's so precious that my throat shrinks. The truth is that i should probably use another adjective; my guy friends insist that men do not like being called "precious."
But, my god there is no other way to describe his hard features and expressive violet eyes. Today he's wearing a baseball cap, but I know what's underneath: thick, reddish hair; when looking at it you can see that it is silky to the touch and it makes you want to run your fingers through it.
In the five years that have passed since the rape, my heart has beat for only two guys.
The first one left me and the other doesn't even know it
On the podium of the auditorium, Professor Vivian begins what I have started to call the "Disappointment Speech". It is the third in six weeks.
Surprise, surprise, 70 percent of the class has got a 4.5 or less in the partial exam.
And me? I've gotten a 10. And I would be lying if I said that the huge "10" and in red pen in a circle at the top of my exam hasn't caught me completely by surprise. All I did was scribble an endless amount of bullshit to try to fill the pages.
Supposedly, Philosophical Ethics was a throw away. The teacher who used to teach the subject did stupid test-type exams and a final "exam" that consisted of an essay in which you had to develop how you would react to a given moral dilemma.
But two weeks before the beginning of the semester, Professor Zaratras collapsed from a heart attack and died. I heard that his cleaning lady found him on the floor of his bathroom; naked. Poor man.
Luckily - and yes, that's absolute sarcasm - the super teacher, Vivian came to take over Zaratras class. she's new at liones University, that kind of teacher who wants you to connect concepts and get involved with the material. If all this was a movie, she would be the typical young and ambitious teacher who shows up at a neighbourhood school in a city, inspires the 'bad' students and suddenly everyone stops being assholes and picks up their pencils and in the final credits announces how all the kids were admitted to Harvard or some similar shit. Oscar to the best immediate actress for Hilary Swank.
But this is not a movie, and that means that the only thing Vivian has inspired in her students is hate. And it seems that she really isn't able to understand why no one excels in her class.
Here's a clue: because your questions are of the kind one might include in a blissful post-graduate thesis.
"I am willing to put a recovery test for those who have failed or have taken a 6 or less." The teacher's nose wrinkles, as if she couldn't understand how something like that is necessary.
The word you just used ... 'willing?' Ha. Yeah sure. I've heard that a lot of students have complained to their guardians about her attitude and I suspect that the higher ups are forcing the professors to give everyone a second chance.
"For those of you who choose to re-sit, the average will be made with the two marks. If you do worse the second time, I'll keep the first mark" she concludes.
"I can not believe you got a 10," Jericho whispers.
She looks so dejected that I feel a twinge of compassion. It's not that Jericho and I are best friends or anything like that, but we've sat together since September, so it is reasonable that we have come to know each other. She studies Medicine and I know that she comes from an academically outstanding family that will punish her without compassion if she finds out about her grade in the partial exam.
"I can't believe it either," I whisper. "Seriously. Read my answers They're just ramblings of meaningless things."
"can I look, please?" She sounds anxious. "I'm curious to see what this tyrant considers material worthy of a 10."
"I'll scan it and send it to you tonight," I promise.
A second after Vivian dismisses us, the auditorium rumbles with noises as "let's get out of here once and for all." The laptops slam shut, the notebooks slide in the backpacks and the students drag their chairs.
Arthur Pendragon stands near the door to talk to someone and my gaze stays fixed on him like a missile. he's beautiful.
Have I already said how precious he is?
The palms of my hands begin to sweat as I observe his beautiful profile. He is new at liones this year, but I am not sure which university he transferred from and, although hes been quick to become the star receiver of the football team, he's not like the other athletes of this university. He doesn't go strutting around the place with one of those "I am God's gift to this world" smiles, nor does he appear with a new girl hanging on his arm every day. I've seen him laugh and joke with his teammates, but there is an intense energy of intelligence that makes me think that there is a hidden depth in him. This makes me even more desperate to meet him.
I don't usually look at athletes, but something about this guy in particular has made me the biggest sentimental fool in the universe.
"You're looking at him again."
The mocking voice of Jericho generates blush on my cheeks. I've been caught drooling over Arthur on more than one occasion, and he's one of the few people I've admitted to being amazing.
My roommate, Diane, knows it too, but my other friends? Not a clue. Most of them study Music or Dramatic Art, so I guess that makes us the artistic gang. Or something like that. Apart from Diane, who has had a steady relationship with a guy from one of the fraternities here since the first year, my friends are too afraid to go after the 'elite' of liones university . Normally I don't join in gossip - I like to think I'm above such things - but ... let's be honest: most of the popular kids are total assholes.
This is the case of the famous Meliodas, the other star of sports in the class. The man walks around as if he owned the place. Well, the truth is that he more or less does. All he has to do is snap his fingers and a girl appears at his side. Or jumps on his lap. Or puts her tongue down his throat.
However, today he doesn't look like the "god like" man of Campus. Almost everyone has left, including prof. Vivian, but Meliodas remains in his seat, with his fists clenched tightly grasping the edges of the exam papers.
I guess he also failed, but I don't feel much compassion for the kid. liones University is known for two things: hockey and football, which is not surprising given that britannia is home to the vamps and the demons. The athletes who play in liones almost always end up in professional teams, and during their years here they receive everything on a silver platter, including their marks as long as the dean doesn't find out.
So yes, this may make me seem a bit of a bitch, but it gives me a certain feeling of triumph to know that our beloved prof. Vivian has failed the captain of our hockey team and league champion along with everyone else.
"Do you want to drink something at the Coffee Hut?" Asks Jericho as she picks up her books.
"I can't. I have practice in twenty minutes. I get up, but I don't follow her to the door. "Go ahead, I have to check the schedule before I leave. I don't remember when my next tutoring session is."
Another 'advantage' of being in Vivian's class is that, in addition to our weekly class, we are required to attend two tutorials for half an hour a week. The good thing is that Dana, the assistant teacher, is the one in charge of the subject and has all the qualities that Vivian lacks. Like, for example, a sense of humor.
"Okay," Jericho says. "See you later."
"bye" I say after her.
Hearing the sound of my voice, Arthur stops at the door and turns his head.
Oh God.
It's impossible to stop the blush that appears on my cheeks. It's the first time we've made eye contact and I don't know how to react. Do i say hello? Do I wave? smile?
In the end, I decide on a little nod. There. Cool and casual dip of the head, worthy of a sophisticated third-year student.
My heart skips a beat when one side of his mouth rises in a weak smile. He waves back to me and leaves.
I stare at the empty door. My pulse is galloping because, fuck, after six weeks breathing the same air in this oppressive auditorium, he's finally realised my presence.
I would like to be brave enough to go after him. Maybe invite him to a coffee. Or to dinner. Or a brunch ... Wait, do people our age go to brunch?
But my feet are stuck to the bright linoleum floor.
Because I'm a coward. Yes, a total coward, a fucking chicken. I'm horrified to think that he might say no, but I am even more worried that he will say yes.
When I started college, I was fine. My fears, solidly overcome, my guard, low. I was ready to go out with guys again, and I did. I went out with several, but apart from my ex, none of them made my body shudder like Arthur Pendragon does, and that scares me.
Step by step.
That's it Step by step. That was always my psychologist's favorite tip and I can't deny that his strategy has helped me a lot. Dr. drole always advised me to focus on small victories.
So ... today's a victory ... I nodded to Arthur and he smiled at me. In the next class, i might smile back. And in the next, maybe I'll ask him out to coffee, dinner or even brunch.
I take a deep breath as I head towards the hall, clinging to that feeling of victory, however tiny it may be.
Step by step.
# Meliodas
I've failed.
Fuck, I've failed!
For 15 years, Professor Zaratras has gave athletes outstanding grades.
And the year i enroll in his class? Zaratra's ticker stops beating and I'm stuck with that Vivian whore.
It's official: that woman is my archenemy. Just to see her horrid calligraphy, which fills every available centimetre of the margins of my partial exam, makes me want to become the Incredible Hulk and break the fucking desk into pieces.
I do ok in most of my other classes, but for now, I have a 0 in Philosophical Ethics. Combined with the 6.5 of History of Spain, my average has fallen to below average.
I need a above average to play hockey.
Normally I don't have any problem keeping my grades up. Despite what many people believe, I'm not the typical idiot athlete. But hey, I don't care if people think I am. Especially, the girls. I guess it gives them the idea of throwing themselves at the muscular caveman who only serves one purpose, but since I'm not looking for anything serious, those casual tumbles with chicks that only want my cock is perfect for me. It gives me more time to focus on hockey.
But there WONT be anymore hockey if I can't raise this mark. The worst thing about liones university? That our dean demands excellence. Academic and sports While other schools are more lenient with athletes, liones has a zero tolerance policy.
Disgusting Vivian. When I spoke with her before class to see how i could improve the mark, she told me in that nasal voice that i had to attend the tutorials and that I should meet with the study group. I already do both. So i can't do anything, unless I hire some nerd to put on a mask of my face and do the make-up exam for me, I'm screwed.
My frustration manifests itself in the form of an audible wail and out of the corner of my eye I see someone who flinches in surprise.
I also flinch, because I thought I was stewing in my misery alone. But the girl sitting in the last row has stayed after the bell and is now walking down to Vivian's desk.
Mandy?
Margaret?
I can't remember her name. Probably because I've never bothered to ask what it is. However, she is gorgeous. Much prettier than i originally thought
Pretty face, silver hair, great body. Fuck, how have I never looked at that body before?
Well I'm looking now. Skinny jeans cling to a round, curvy ass that seems to shout "grab me," and a V-neck sweater clings to stunning tits. I don't have time to admire more of those attractive attributes, because she catches me looking at her and a look of clear disapproval appears on her face.
"All good?" she asks with a pointed look.
I utter a moan in a low voice. I'm not in the mood to talk to anyone right now.
A silver eyebrow rises in my direction.
"Excuse me, don't you know how to talk?"
I make a ball with my exam and throw my chair back.
"I said everything is fine."
"Fine then" she shrugs and continues on her way.
When she picks up the clipboard where our tutoring program is, I throw my liones university hockey jacket on; then I put my pathetic exam in my backpack and close the zipper.
The silver-haired girl goes to walk out into the hall. Marie? Molly? The M sounds right to me, but the rest is a mystery. She has her exam in her hand, but I don't look at it, because I guess she has failed like everyone else.
I let her go out before me into the hall. I suppose I could say it's the gentleman in me, but I would be lying. I want to take a look at her ass again, because it's a super hot ass and now that I've seen it once I wouldn't mind checking it out again. I follow her until the exit.
Just when we get to the door, she stumbles on absolutely nothing and the books she carries in her hands fall loudly to the ground.
"Shit. How clumsy am i?"
she lets herself fall on her knees and I do the same, because unlike my previous statement, I can be a gentleman when I want, and the gentlemanly thing now is to help her collect her books.
"Oh, it's not necessary. I can." she insists.
But my hand has already touched her partial exam and my mouth opens wide when I see the grade.
"What the fuck. How did you get a 10?" I ask.
she responds with a self-critical smile.
"Ya ... I was convinced that I had failed."
"Fuck." I feel as if I just happened to meet Stephen Hawking himself and he was tempting me with the secrets of the universe. "Can I read your answers?"
Her eyebrows arch again.
"That's pretty daring on your part, don't you think? We don't even know each other."
I snort.
"I'm not asking you to undress, sweetie. I just want to take a look at your exam."
"Sweetie? That presumptuous"
"Would you prefer 'Miss?' 'Lady' maybe? I would use your name, but I don't know it.
"Of course not." she sighs. "My name is Elizabeth." and after a pause full of meaning "Meliodas".
Wow, I was sooooo off with that M thing.
And I don't overlook the way she emphasises my name as if to say:
'Ha! I know yours, you cretin!'
she picks up the rest of her books and stands up, but I don't give her back her exam. Instead, I sit up and start flipping through it. While I read over her answers, my spirit plummets even more, because if this is the kind of analysis that Vivian is looking for, I am totally, completely and wholly screwed. There's a reason why I'm going to graduate in History, for God's sake: i deal with facts! Black and white. This is what happened to this person at this time and here is the result.
Elizabeth's answers focus on theoretical shit and how philosophers would respond to various moral dilemmas.
"Thank you." I return her papers. Then I put my thumbs in the loops of my jeans. "Hey, one thing. You ... what would you think ...?" I shrug my shoulders "You know …"
Her lips tremble as if she is trying not to laugh.
"Actually, I do not know."
I let out a sigh.
"Would you give me private lessons?"
Her blue eyes (the brightest shade of blue I've seen in my life, which are also surrounded by thick black lashes) go from startled to skeptical in a matter of seconds.
"I'll pay you," I add hastily.
"Oh Hey. Well, yes, of course I expected you to pay me. But ... " she shakes her head. "Sorry. I can't."
I repress my disappointment.
"Come on, do me a favor. If I fail the make-up test, my average grade will collapse. Come on, please." I send her a smile, the one that makes my dimples appear, the one that never fails to makes girls melt.
"Does that work normally?" she asks curiously.
"What?"
"The 'im an innocent guy so please do what i want' look, does it help you get what you want?"
"Always" I answer without hesitation.
"Well it doesn't work with me" she corrects me. "Look, I'm sorry, but I really don't have the time. I'm already juggling school and work, and with the next winter concert exhibition, I'll have even less time."
"Winter concert exhibition?" I say without understanding.
"Oh, forget it. If it's not about hockey, it's not on your radar."
"And now, who is being presumptuous? You do not even know me."
There is a second of silence and then she sighs defeated.
"I'm making a music career, okay? And the Faculty of Art assembles two important exhibitions a year: the winter concert and the spring concert. The winner gets a scholarship of fifty thousand dollars. Actually it's a kind of big business fair. The important people of the industry fly from all parts of the country to see it. Agents, record producers, talent scouts and others. So, although I'd love to help you …"
"You would not love it," I complain. "It seems you don't even want to talk to me right now."
The little gesture that she makes with her shoulders like 'you've caught me' pisses me off a lot.
"I have to go to the rehearsal. I'm sorry that you've failed this class, but if it makes you feel better, it's happened to everyone."
I squint my eyes.
"Not to you."
"I can't help it. The teacher Vivian seems to respond well to my style of rambling. It's a gift."
"Well, I want your gift. Please, help me"
I'm two seconds away from getting on my knees and pleading with her but she goes to the door.
"You know there's a study group, right? I can give you the number to …"
"I'm in it," I murmur.
"Ah Well, then there's not much else I can do for you. Good luck in the make-up test, 'sweetie'."
She goes out the door, leaving me there, looking at her in frustration. Amazing. All the girls in this university would cut their limbs off to help me. But this? He feels as if he had just asked her to kill a cat so he could give it to Satan as a sacrifice.
And now I'm back where I was before Elizabeth -without an M- gave me that faint glimmer of hope.
Totally screwed