Sydney's POV
I looked down at my iPhone as I literally ran across one of the small streets in the middle of campus. I hadn't even bothered looking to see if a car was coming and now that I think of it, I'm shocked I didn't get hit by a car because of the luck I was having at the time.
1:58 pm. I had two minutes to make it down one more block and up two flights of stairs.
HA. Yeah. That wasn't going to happen but I ran anyway which wasn't easy because I was wearing flip flops.
It was the first day of school and I was a complete mess. My alarm didn't go off and I literally only had 5 minutes to get ready which was why I was wearing the jeans I'd worn the night before, a black tank top, and flip flops. Oh and we can't forget the make up from the night before. At least I didn't have eyeliner running down my face. My hair? Oh Lord. There was no fixing that mess. It was in a bun on top of my head and as tamed as it could be.
I got the to stairs that led to my classroom and totally made them my bitch. I probably ran up them faster than I had on flat ground. I'm not trying to brag or anything but I could probably snap someone's neck with my thigh muscles if I found their head between my legs.
That was weird, wasn't it? Moving on.
I finally made it to the floor my class was on and stopped by the door to take a few deep breaths. I could hear the professor talking and I peeked in to see that it was a full class. The only available seat was one right in the front row.
Fuck my face. Of course I wouldn't be able to sneak in. I wanted to turn around and walk away but I felt like a total pussy. I didn't work my ass off for years so I could go to that college just to wuss out on my first day because I didn't want other students to look at me. That would be completely retarded.
I took a deep breath that was meant to chill myself out before turning the doorknob and pushing the door open. Of course it creaked loudly and every set of eyeballs in that room landed on me.
"Sorry," I said softly as I quickly walked across the front of the room, avoiding eye contact with anyone, and sat my purse down before sliding into my seat.
I finally looked up to see that the Professor was standing just a couple of feet away from me. His arms were folded over his chest and he had an eyebrow raised as he looked down at me.
Wow. The dude was young. I expected some old fart to be teaching me but this guy looked like he could actually be younger than me. He was tall and slender, had sort of a shaggy kpop haircut thing going on with his almost black hair, and very dark eyes which looked oddly familiar to me and also scary because he did not look very happy with me at all.
I glanced towards my left and then my right uncomfortably before looking up at him again. The room was completely silent and I could feel everyone still looking at me. I was two seconds from asking him if he would fucking continue before I had a damn anxiety attack.
"It's lovely of you to join us this afternoon," he stated, still standing there with an eyebrow raised and his arms folded over his chest. I immediately noticed that he had a British accent and it added greatly to his attractive appearance. "I'm Professor Howell, since you missed my introduction so you could stop and get coffee," he glanced down at the cup that was sitting in front of me. What he didn't know was that that was an old cup that I'd poured my coffee into when I'd woken up. "Would you like to introduce yourself now since you've interrupted those of us who could be bothered to show up on time or should I come back to you when it's more convenient?"
Okay. This would probably be a good time to inform you all that I have a bit of an issue with controlling myself when someone pisses me off in any way. I try to remind myself that I am a grown woman who should act civilized but it never works. Ever. And he had just pushed my buttons with how rude he was being.
I cleared my throat and sat up straighter in my desk while plastering a fake smile on my face. "Well, Professor Howell, first of all I should let you know that making assumptions isn't very wise especially when you don't know the person. This cup," I held up my coffee cup, "is from yesterday. I refilled it with coffee my roommate made earlier. Second, I was only about a minute and a half late which I don't think is that big of a deal considering this is the first class I have ever taken here and some of us have to work shitty jobs all night to pay for our tuition and can't afford to buy stupid little white Armani shirts. That's why I was late, by the way. I worked until 5 am and my alarm didn't go off. It won't happen again." The shirt he was wearing was Armani so I had to say something. "And finally, my name is Sydney Knight. I am 22 years old and I am from Atlanta, Georgia."
He leaned against the podium and tilted his head, a smirk curving his lips as he looked at me condescendingly. "Yes, well, some of us actually apply ourselves enough in life so we can afford stupid little Armani shirts. Perhaps if you give it a go you wouldn't be stuck working a shitty job. Also, I want to compliment you on your etiquette," he moved his arm and gestured towards me. "That's a lovely vocabulary you've got," he shot me a taunting smile before continuing, "you may want to invest in a new alarm clock then, yeah?"
I wanted so badly to stand up and punch him in his entirely too gorgeous face but I managed to keep myself seated. I leaned forward and smiled right back at him. "Perhaps you're right. While I'm out getting my new alarm clock shall I buy you some lube and a fleshlight? You seem like you haven't gotten laid in a while or is it normal for you to act like an uptight prick?"
I heard a few soft chuckles behind me and had to bite my bottom lip to keep from laughing. I hadn't even made it through the first 10 minutes of my college career and I was butting heads with someone. Honestly, I wasn't shocked.
It was like what I'd said didn't even phase him. He continued to smirk as he leaned off of the podium and slowly made his way towards my table. He put his hands down on the surface and leaned down so that he was on my level, his face very close to mine. So close that I could smell the coffee on his breath. "I could say the same thing about you," he noted. "Do you want to continue to talk about my personal life or can we move forward?"
I don't know what the hell possessed me to do it but I reached up to straighten his collar before smirking up at him. "I was completely ready to move forward but you decided to be an asshole. I guess it depends on if you're done doing that or not."
"I'll never be done doing that, Ms. Knight," he responded, still leaning in towards me, that damn crooked smirk on his plump lips. That's when I noticed he had dimples. Dimples. Are you kidding me?
"But since I've already wasted too much of your classmates' time, you're just going to have to suck it up and deal with it." He tapped the tip of my nose and straightened back up.
I wanted to tell him that sucking wasn't exactly within my line of work but I could probably direct him to someone who would take care of that for him but I knew I was already on thin ice so I kept my mouth shut. I sat back and took a sip of my coffee while trying not to think of how yummy his cologne and coffee breath smelled.
"Since I'm feeling a bit inspired, I say we talk about Aristotle," he began as he made his way towards the middle of the room to face the rest of the class. "Who once said, Anybody can become angry - that is easy, but to be angry with the right person and to the right degree and at the right time and for the right purpose, and in the right way - that is not within everybody's power and is not easy."
The rest of the day went on and I didn't have any other mishaps in my classes. It was a little after 6pm when I was finally walking up the stairs to mine and my roommate's apartment. I was so sleepy. I probably could have slept for 48 hours straight. But, I had to go to work at 11 that night so I could only squeeze in a power nap.
I unlocked the door and walked into the apartment which was oddly quiet. "B, are you-" I rounded the corner and looked into the living room to see my roommate and new best friend, Brighton, passed smooth the fuck out with her face lying on the keyboard of her laptop.
I couldn't keep myself from laughing. It was far too hilarious of a sight. Even though I hated to wake her, I also didn't want her to drool into the laptop and then be electrocuted or something insane like that.
"Brightooon," I sang her name as I sat down on the couch. "Time to wake up, sleepy head."
She raised her head up from her laptop and looked over the top of it at me, "Syd, you're back early," she said groggily as she rubbed her hands over her eyes, making a mess of the makeup she was wearing. I'm guessing she had no idea what time it was, because she picked up her phone and groaned. "It's 6? How the-" she looked from her phone back to her computer screen and her eyes got huge. "Noooooooooooo! My essay! It's a bunch of gibberish now!" she whined before burying her face against her palms, continuing to make noises that didn't quite sound human.
"I'm sure your essay is somewhere at the top of all of the gibberish," I told her while trying not to laugh. "Why the shit do you already have an essay? Do you have some sort of teacher from hell?"
Her hands fell and moved to the keyboard and I could hear clicking before I heard a loud sigh of relief. "Oh thank God. I was going to cry if it had gotten ruined," she closed her computer and stood up from the chair she had fallen asleep in and moved over to the couch to sit with me. "It comes with the territory of being a creative writing major. They want us to pop out essays and shit like Mrs. Duggar pops out kids," she laughed at herself. "How did you like your first day of being an official Columbia University student?" she asked, grinning at me so much that her dimples showed.
Ugh, they reminded me of Professor Howell's.
I shrugged my shoulders. "It was alright. Sort of overwhelming but good. I didn't end up in the wrong class at any point so that was good." That had been a serious fear of mine. "Question, have you ever had or heard of a Professor Howell?"
Laughing, she shook her head at me. "No.. Why? Is she awful?"
I laughed as well as I shook my head. "She is a he and she's not exactly awful but if we're going to use 'A' words to describe him I'd say he's an asshole. A very pretty, pretentious asshole. I was late for his class this morning and we nearly had a brawl right there in front of everyone."
She grimaced as I described him to her. "That actually sounds like 90% of the faculty... He's pretty though? That sounds about like zero percent of the faculty," she laughed and shifted around in her seat, looking interested. "What does he teach?"
"How to make Sydney think about my dimples all day 101?" I replied as I rubbed my temple. "He's my philosophy teacher and I swear the guy looks younger than us and on top of that he is British. How the hell am I supposed to focus in there?"
"Oh God," she started fanning her face, laughing. "Wow, I dunno. That should be illegal. It's one thing to be pretty, and one thing to be British, but to be a pretty British person who instructs philosophy is unfair to the rest of the world."
"Right?" I laughed. "He's up there walking around spouting out these beautiful quotes and my vagina is practically screaming for me to rip my pants off and offer myself to him right there on his desk," I sighed, frustrated with myself for not being able to get him out of my head. "What about your day? Any interesting events?"
"I played peasant girl at work as per usual, went to class, and came home and started on some homework, so I'm going to say no," she chuckled. "I have work study tonight, which probably won't be eventful either," she rolled her eyes. "Apparently I got stuck with the film department and with my luck the instructor is some lunatic who walks around looking at everything like this and mutters stuff to himself." She held her hands up and made a little box with her fingers like she was testing camera angles.
I laughed at her as I stood up from the couch. "Well, if he asks you to take your clothes off just make sure you get the money first." I winked at her before walking into the kitchen. "I need to stuff my face and get a shower then get my ass in bed so I can at least get a couple of hours of sleep before I go to work."
"Ugh, I don't know how you deal working so late with the public. You really should get a taser or something. What if someone comes in and tries to rob the place?" She said as she too stood up, following me into the kitchen. "Mmm, moldy old Chinese food."
"Trust me, the security at my work would have someone's nuts on a platter before they got a chance to do anything to me." I wrinkled my nose at the mention of moldy chinese food. "We need to go grocery shopping like as soon as possible. I need some ramen in my life."
She shut the refrigerator door and laughed. "I'll go after I get done playing slave girl at school tonight. We're completely out of coffee too.. and just about everything else."
My eyes probably bugged out of my head. "We're out of coffee? That is so not good." I quickly walked over to my bag and pulled my wallet out before getting a 20 dollar bill and walking over to her with it. "Here. I definitely want coffee, ramen, , and any sort of chips. Do whatever else you want with it." Part of what I loved about living with Brighton was that we were able to live together so easily without issues. We shared the responsibility of bills and groceries and we also shared groceries. I was scared I was going to be moving in with one of those crazy people who puts labels on all their shit and flips out if you touch it. B definitely was not like that.
She took the money from me and walked over to the counter where her purse was sitting and started going through it until she found her wallet to put the money away. "I would have known to get you all of that even if you hadn't told me to," she laughed. "It's crazy, isn't it? We've only known eachother for like three months but it feels more like three years."
She was right. It did feel like I had known her for much longer. Our friendship was the first real friendship I had had since high school. I had an issue getting along with most girls. Okay, I had an issue getting along with people in general.
"That's because we're roommate soulmates," I told her before popping a kiss against her cheek as I walked past. "I'm off to shower and sleep. Be careful and good luck on the work study adventure!"
Brighton's POV
After Sydney excused herself to go lay down I opened up the fridge again and stared inside of it even though I already knew that, other than some really old Chinese take out, a couple of sticks of butter, and a few bottles of beer, it was empty.
Why do people do that? Do we think something will magically appear, or we'll notice something we missed the first time around? I don't know; but I opened up the freezer too even though I knew it was in the same condition. Aside from a bottle of tequila and an ice tray, it was empty.
Oh the life of a broke, starving college student.
With a sigh I closed the freezer and reluctantly reached into the fridge to grab the old leftovers to dispose of them.
The curious and disgusting part of my brain wanted to know exactly how foul the outdated food smelled and if it really had mold growing on it. So what did I do? I opened the container and of course I immediately regretted it as soon as the stench hit me in the face.
"Eck," I made a face as I looked down at what, I'm assuming, was shrimp and fried rice. It wasn't moldy but it smelled rancid.
Again, why do people do that? Sniff something that they know is going to smell offensive?
I made sure to wrap it in a plastic bag before I tossed it into the garbage can and picked my purse up off of the counter. I dug my phone out of it and checked the time to see that it was almost 6:30.
Since my work study started at 7 I needed to get ready to go. I made quick work of gathering my things and checking my appearance in the full length mirror in my bedroom. My hair, which was short, blonde, and tousled looked alright but I had major raccoon eyes from smearing my eyeliner and mascara.
After cleaning it up I headed out of my apartment, my purse and laptop bag slung over my arm and my phone in my hand so I could keep an eye on the time.
The distance from east 8th street where I lived, to Broadway, which was where I was going was about a twenty minute walk so I had more than enough time to get there.
That's the beauty of living in New York City; you can walk anywhere you need to go. Well, unless it's coming a downpour.. or really late. I definitely wouldn't advise walking around here when it's late.
Not that I lived in a particularly bad area. The upper west side was pretty upscale compared to other places in the city. We definitely paid for it too. Our rent was close to 3 grand a month, which caused both of us to slave away to be able to afford it.
No, neither of us are like the chicks from Gossip Girl.
I worked at Random House during the week where I spent a big majority of my time in the file rooms sorting and organizing documents and whatnot. It might not sound like fun but I actually kind of enjoyed it. I mean, I got to spend a lot of time by myself, and I no longer had to say the alphabet in my head to know what letter comes next; which I suppose is a nice life skill.
I also got housing money from Columbia and got paid through their work-study program and worked Saturdays and waitressing at a bar and grill.
Sydney worked at some place on the east side and somehow made a pretty good living from it. Sometimes I wondered if she might be up to something shady, or if she steals money from the register because she always has a ton of cash on her. I wouldn't care if she did, she's never taken anything from me and if it wasn't for her I would literally be homeless.
I lived on campus my first year at Columbia but that got old fast, so this past summer I started apartment hunting and soon realized that there was no way I could afford to live on my own. Well, not anywhere where I wouldn't be scared to leave my house. So I did the only logical thing there was to do.
I put out an ad on Craigslist looking for a roommate.
Yeah, I know, I'm insane. But what else was I supposed to do?
Anyways, it ended up working out for both of us since we go to the same school and are the same age. She's actually become what I would consider my best friend instead of some random person I met off of the internet.
Where we lived looked so historic, with the way all of the buildings were made, though, the further I got to Columbia and Broadway everything started to look modern again. The streets were crowded with business men and women, tourists, and very rude bicyclists who didn't care if they ran you over. Actually.. I think that might have been a common thing here; people not caring.
Nearly a mile later I could see Dodge Hall, the building that was home to Columbia's school of arts. I had a few of my writing classes in it, so luckily, even though I wasn't extremely thrilled with the idea of working with someone from the film department, I at least knew my way around.
The building was very large and also historic looking, made of brick with three large pillars at the entrance and arched windows on the lower level and squared windows on the upper three.
The campus was pretty quiet with only a couple of handfuls of people that I could see walking around, so it wasn't very surprising that Dodge Hall was more or less deserted.
I unlocked my phone and went to my calendar to make sure I knew which room I was supposed to go to. Room 306 was displayed on the screen with the time. I knew I was supposed to be there at 7 but I had no idea what time I would get to leave. In my past experience with doing work study, I got to do more study than actual work, so I'd brought my laptop with me, in hopes that I could get some work done.
This was unknown territory though. I'd never had to work for any of the fine arts outside of writing.
I climbed the stairs and found myself outside of the designated room a few minutes early. I checked the door to see if it was locked and surprisingly it wasn't, so I let myself in.
Apparently I wasn't the only lucky soul who got assigned to this job and it looked like I'd be doing actual work too.
There was one person sitting in the classroom at one of the desks in the front row, a massive pile of papers stacked on the table around him. He looked up from his work towards the door where I was standing and I smiled at him before sliding into the seat closest to me.
I could feel the guy's eyes on me quite a few seconds after I sat down and it was starting to make me pretty uncomfortable. I shifted around in my seat and glanced up at him to see he was definitely looking at me and had a bit of a confused look on his face.
"Um, would you be Brighton by chance?" he asked, his very British accent being obvious instantly.
"Yeah.. I'm waiting for.. well, I don't know who I'm waiting for, but I'm here for work-study," I informed him as I tucked my hair behind my ear. "I take it you are too?" I gestured towards the stack of papers in front of him.
His eyes widened and he adjusted his glasses. "I'm flattered that you thought I was a student but I'm actually Professor Lester. Phil Lester. Professor Lester still sounds weird."
Now it was time for my eyes to widen. What? He was a teacher? How was that even possible? You don't understand! Okay, he looked like he might have been 20, he had a choppy short shag for a haircut, and he was wearing black skinny jeans and a plaid button down. "Wow," I laughed. "I'm sorry, you don't look like a teacher." Perhaps that wasn't the best thing to say... "I mean, you don't look old enough to be a teacher."
"I'm going to take that as a compliment. Most people imagine old dudes who fall asleep at their desk or look at female students with the creepy eye," he said as he got up from the desk he was sitting at. He was taller than I thought he'd be once he was actually standing. "If it makes you feel any better, ever since I read your name when it came across my desk this morning I've been going around thinking you were a guy."
I laughed again because I got that a lot. Apparently Brighton is usually a male's name. "Yeah. My Mom thought I was a boy too until I made my grand appearance into the world," I told him as I stood up from my desk, leaving my things on the table as I made my way towards him. "She said she didn't want me to have a complex from being called one thing in the womb and something else outside of it, so she kept my name the same."
I knew he was tall, but now that I was actually standing next to him, damn, he was very tall. I could also smell his cologne and it smelled very nice... and oh wow, his eyes. They were gorgeous. Naturally wide and a very bright shade of blue. I literally had to make myself stop staring at them. "So, uh, what can I assist you with, Professor?" I said after clearing my throat.
He looked over at me like he was kind of shocked by what I said for some reason and then cleared his throat. "Well, I decided to make my students hate me on the first day and they had to write a short essay. Honestly, the content doesn't matter all that much but the grammar does. I read your file and it seems you've got that down so I think you could help me with grading those."
I looked down at the desk and picked up one of the sheets of paper. He wasn't lying when he said short essay. It was a full page double spaced, apparently written about their favorite movie. "I don't know how they managed to keep them so short. I could probably write a short story about my favorite movie," I said as I shuffled through a few of the papers. I pulled one of the chairs out at the table he had been sitting at and took a seat. "I think I can handle this though," I looked up at him with a grin.
"That's probably why you're in this sort of field," he said as he took the seat across the table from me. He reached over and sat a red pen down while giving me the cutest, crooked grin. "If you had to write an essay about your favorite movie what movie would that be, if I may ask?"
"Zack and Miri Make a Porno," I answered and surprisingly didn't laugh at myself for the answer I had given. It wasn't my favorite movie. I wasn't sure if I had a favorite, but it was the first one that came to my mind so I went with it. "A short story about a movie, about making a porno. Sounds legit to me. It could be a best seller."
He sat his pen down and brought his hand to his face, placing his fingertips over his lips like he was trying to keep himself from saying something. It quickly became obvious that he was trying not to laugh. "I'm sorry," he said through his laughter when he wasn't able to hold it back any longer. "I was not expecting you to say that."
I was laughing too because his reaction was priceless. "I wasn't expecting me to say that either," I told him, still laughing. "It was the first thing I thought of for some reason... What would you write yours about, if you were one of your students?"
"Hmmm." He tilted his head and looked up at the ceiling as he thought. "Probably The Lorax since I'm told repeatedly that I look like The Once-ler," he laughed. "I honestly do. It's a bit frightening, actually."
"Oh my God!" I put my hand over my mouth and started laughing again. "You do look like him! That's insane," I moved my hand and let it rest on the desk again. "The Once-ler is probably one of the cutest animated characters ever-" I stopped mid sentence because I hadn't meant for what I said to actually come flying out of my mouth. I probably looked like a deer in headlights because I had just indirectly called him cute. "I'm sorry. That was so inappropriate."
I could see that his cheeks were turning a bit pink and he was actually smiling at me. "Don't apologize. It was very sweet," he nodded. "I won't tell on you or anything. Don't worry. I'm not an old fogie or whatever they call it," he laughed. "I still don't even know if I want my students to call me Professor. It just seems so weird."
"I bet it is, especially since you don't even look old enough for that kind of a title." I looked back down at the paper I'd hardly even looked over. It was odd, but I wanted to keep talking to him. "You're different from most of the faculty around here," I stated, glancing up at him again. I'm not sure he'd looked away from me when I had looked away from him. "Most of them really like pushing their authority."
"I'm rather laid back," he shrugged. "I mean, no one is going to walk all over me nor will they take advantage of the fact that I am a laid back teacher but I am laid back. I'm not going to be one of those teachers who makes everyone dread his class or even fear me, you know?"
The sound of the door opening caused me to a jump a little, only then realizing that we had both been leaning in towards each other over the table.
"Bloody hell today has been shit, I just want to- Woah, I didn't know you were with a student," I heard a second British accent and looked towards the door to see a very tall, very attractive guy standing there with his hands up in the air, a black leather bag hanging off of his shoulder as he looked between Professor Lester and myself.
"It's alright, Dan. This is Brighton. She's doing her work study with me. Why has your day been shit?" He leaned back in his chair and picked up a pile of papers before stacking them on the table. He looked over at me again and smiled. "This is my step brother, by the way. He's teaching Philosophy."
I looked over at him and smiled and he grinned a dimpled grin at me. "Hello, Brighton," he said as he walked further into the room, taking a seat at the table beside ours. He turned sideways and looked at Phil, who was still looking at him. "I've had very colorful students, to say the least," he rolled his eyes. "Not to mention I got into a verbal confrontation with one this afternoon."
It took about three seconds to put things together. This was the guy who Syd had gotten into it with. First off, he was pretty. Second, though I'd only known him for about twenty seconds, he didn't seem that bad.
Perhaps Syd had just lost her temper. Again.
I literally had to bite the inside of cheek to keep from laughing at the fact that he had no idea that the person I'm sure he was talking about just happened to be my roommate.
"Oh really?" Phil asked sounding very intrigued. "How did you manage that one? Did you throw some of that sass at someone who could throw it right back?"
Dan looked a little offended as he glanced at me, "Do you hear that?" he gestured towards Phil. "He just called me sassy. Do I look sassy to you?"
I felt like that was a trick question that I shouldn't even attempt to answer. "I try not to judge books by their covers but the way you whipped your hand looked a little sassy, yeah," I laughed.
He rolled his eyes playfully and looked back at Phil. "She came in late and I called her out for it and it escalated from there," he shrugged before continuing, "it did get me started on a good lecture about Aristotle, though."
Okay, what he just said confirmed my suspicions that he was talking about Sydney.
Cue the inward debate on if I should mention her.
"Oh wow," Phil laughed as he rubbed the stubble on his jaw. "She didn't run out crying or anything, right? You have a habit of being a little overwhelming, you know?"
Dan leaned over and picked up a few of the papers from the desk then started digging through his bag and pulled out a pen. "No, she took it," he responded, "and, as you said, threw the sass right back at me," he rolled his eyes again.
I heard my phone vibrating on the table where I'd left my things and I quickly got up to silence it. I checked the alert to see that I had gotten an email from the school but decided to use the interruption to my advantage. "I'm sorry, that was my roommate Sydney letting me know she had to go to work a couple of hours earlier than usual," I lied as I sat back down across from Professor Lester. "Poor thing works so much. I really admire her for taking on school with so many hours."
I kept an eye on Dan, who was looking up from the paper he was grading. He looked at me then quickly looked back down at his work without saying a word.
I'm pretty sure that he knew, that I knew, that he had been talking about her.
"I admire anyone who does that," Phil responded as he looked down at a paper he seemed to be actually reading and grading while speaking. Was he a damn genius or something? "We were lucky enough to have financial support from our parents through school so we didn't have to work. I'm very grateful for that."
"You are very lucky. I wish I didn't have to be peasant," I laughed, trying to make light of what was, most of the time, a very stressful situation. "It's rewarding though, you know? Knowing that I'm able to kind of fend for myself even though it's not always easy."
Dan remained quiet. I had a feeling I was tickling his guilt box.
Phil was looking at me and smiling again. He had the cutest smile. "You seem to have a very good head on your shoulders," he replied as he picked up a new paper to grade. "And you're definitely not a peasant. I'm sure Sydney isn't either."
"You know, I think I'm going to head on home," Dan spoke up, catching our attention. When I looked over at him I saw that he looked very uncomfortable. "I got a few of these done for you," he held the papers he had finished out for Phil to take and sat the others down in front of me.
"Feel free to cook some of that chicken stir fry," Phil told him as he took the papers. "Thanks for the help, Professor Howell. I'll be home in a couple of hours."
"No problem," he responded. "It was nice meeting you, Brighton. Don't let my brother over work you," he shot me a crooked grin before turning to excuse himself from the room.
I watched him walk away before turning my attention back to Phil. "Do you two live together?" I asked, picking up another sheet of paper and kind of froze. "Is that okay to ask? I've never really had a conversation with a teacher that didn't relate back to an assignment or something."
"You can ask me anything. I'm an open book," he responded with a smile. "We do live together. Since we moved here without knowing anyone we figured we might as well share an apartment. We were lucky enough to get these jobs at the same time. Everything just sort of fell into place. I really never thought I'd live outside of England much less in New York."
I couldn't keep myself from smiling when he did. It was like his smiles were contagious. "If I lived in England I don't think I'd ever leave," I admitted. "I wanted to study abroad so badly but when I got accepted here, there was no way I could turn it down." I tried my best to hold a conversation and not neglect what I was supposed to be doing. "I'm curious, though. Since you said you didn't think you would leave home... Why did you end up coming here?"
"I guess it's sort of like you view England like I view the states? I always hoped I could come work some awesome job here. Right after Dan and I graduated we were notified these positions were open and I honestly never thought we would get them but, here we are," he grinned, holding his arms out. "I love it so far. My students have all been amazing and very interesting. Now, I've even lucked out with my work study person being great to talk to. I think it's been an awesome first day."
"That's great. I'm glad you've had a better day than your brother."
My dimples probably looked like giant potholes on my face from how big my smile was. "Honestly? I was kind of terrified to have to work around someone from the film department... Most of the instructors I've met have been really intense but you were a pleasant surprise," I laughed. "I'm actually kind of excited about work-study now."
"Good!" he grinned at me. "That makes me feel really good, actually. I know that a lot of people in film can be rather odd," he laughed. "I mean like, really odd. I met some of the scariest people while in school in London."
"You went to school in London? That's cool," I perked up in my chair and sat my pen down on the table. "Is that where you're from?"
"Manchester, actually," he replied, sitting his pen down on the table as well. "I moved to London when I decided to go to college there. It wasn't easy to leave that city behind either. What about you, Ms. Brighton? You know quite a bit about me but I only know what I saw in your file."
"I bet it wasn't. I would have been clinging to the door, crying, not wanting to leave," I chuckled. "I'm from this really small town in Washington state that's infested with vampires.. You've probably never heard of it. Forks?" I managed to say seriously but I was unable to keep myself from laughing because of the look on his face. "I'm kidding. I'm from Port Townsend, which really is a small town in Washington, it's near Seattle."
"You're hilarious," he laughed while rubbing the stubble on his jawline. "I really wondered if you were from Forks for a second. That would've been even more hilarious. Why did you choose your major and also why New York? I've heard there are great universities in the northwest."
"I've always liked to make things up... Which sounds kind of bad. Like I'm a habitual liar or something," I sniggered. "I mean, stories and people, you know? With writing you can create a different world and escape to it. I've always had a big imagination and I'm actually decent at writing, so I went with it," I shrugged then picked my pen up but only to start clicking the end of it. "I came here for two reasons. The first being that I actually got accepted to Columbia, which was a pretty big deal. I don't think my parents could have been any happier for me. And I wanted something new, something different. A challenge. Living here is all of those things."
"Wow," he responded sounding and looking like he was fascinated. "It's not that often that you hear someone talk about writing with the passion that you just did. I think you'll go far and I'm not just saying that because of what you just said or the fact that I like you. I had some samples of your writing in your file and I have to admit I was sucked in after a couple of sentences. You've got a gift."
My face suddenly felt very hot and I knew that my cheeks were turning red and that the smile on my face probably made me look like I might have an extra chromosome or two. "Thank you," I responded, my knuckles pressed against my lips as I subtly tried to hide my delighted expression. I cleared my throat and let my hand fall once I'd calmed myself a bit. "I'm not sure what I want to do though. In high school I always thought I wanted to write books but now.. from being in New York, I've realized there are so many things you can do with your ideas. You know, with plays and stuff.. Luckily, I've still got time to figure it out since I'm only in my second year."
"Well, that's the beauty of it all. You can write anything you want. You don't have to be confined to one thing. You can do whatever you want. Just always make sure that you're writing it because you want to and that's the only reason. Otherwise it will turn out completely shitty." He chuckled as he looked away from me and down at the papers. "You are quite the distraction. I think I've only graded 10 of these papers." He picked one up and raised an eyebrow. "Oh look. Someone wrote about how to properly do a keg stand."
"I'm sorry," I told him as I picked up the paper I had been grading. I was about to start working again but his comment stole my attention and I looked up at him once more. "Wow," I laughed and tilted my head a bit so I could see it better. "Did you give that same little speech to your students? Because it looks like they might have taken your advice on only doing things they want to do," I grinned.
"I think that they did," he laughed shaking his head. "I'm pretty sure I have more than one student who ran out of classes to take and needed credits so they landed in my room thinking it would be easy." He looked up at me and smirked. "They're going to hate me."
"You think so?" I looked up from the paper and smirked back at him. "Because, honestly, I was thinking the opposite. I think they would find you very likeable."
He brought his hand up to his face and took his glasses off before laying them down on the paper he was reading. "Is that so? Are you saying that because you like me?"
I pulled a face, making it look as though I was considering his question before shrugging. "You're alright I guess, for someone from the film department," I teased as I picked up a different paper because I'd finally finished the one I'd been working on for well over twenty minutes.
He laughed and put his hand over his chest. "My heart is broken now. What have you done?"
"I don't know, but now I guess you'll have to fake die of a fake heart attack," I responded with my best Lumpy Space Princess impression.
All of the sudden his laughter echoed out through the room and I looked up to see his head thrown back while he laughed loudly. "Oh my God. I can't believe you just quoted LSP. You have got to stop being so awesome."
"I have to stop?!" I laughed with him. "You're the one who needs to stop. I wasn't expecting you to know what I was talking about," I shook my head. "I thought you'd be like-" I paused and let a blank expression fall over my face as I blinked, "-and have no idea why I just said that. 1 up for you, sir."
His laughter calmed down a bit and he wiped the corner of his eye. "Although I am a professor or whatever, I am still a 26 year old who might have issues with acting like a 10 year old sometimes. I think I watch cartoons more than television shows with real people in them." He put a finger over his lips. "Shhh. Don't tell anyone. I have to seem adult-like and super responsible here."
I had been wondering how old he was this entire time. I knew he had to at least be in his mid-twenties but even after knowing that and him saying his age, it was still hard to believe. "Your secret is safe with me, Professor Lester," I smiled, keeping my gaze on him for a few seconds before looking back down at the essay I was grading.
"Thank you," he grinned. "Oh and please, call me Phil. You're not one of my students so you don't have to be so formal." He picked up his glasses and put them back on just as I heard a vibrating noise coming from his general direction. He leaned back in his chair and slipped his hand into his pocket before pulling his iPhone out. "It's Dan," he rolled his eyes before answering it. "Yes, brother. What do you need?"
"Entertainment," I heard Dan's voice loud and clear because Phil and I were sitting so close together. "Are you done with your hot work-study student yet? The stirfry I made is getting cold and I'm getting bored."
I'm pretty sure I had a shocked expression on my face as I leaned back in my chair, trying to unhear what I'd just heard.
Phil's eyes nearly bugged out of his head and his mouth fell open but I could tell he was amused. "Ummm. I'm pretty sure she just heard that and we'll be done in a few minutes. You sound like a needy wife."
"What? Is she sitting on your bloody lap or something? Don't answer that. Just hurry up alright? I need something to do so I can procrastinate doing things that actually need to be done."
"She's not on my lap, Daniel. I'm not you. I'll be home soon. Calm your tits," he told him before hanging up and sitting the phone down on the table. "Sorry about that," he laughed as he rubbed his cheek. "He's an interesting guy," he cleared his throat.
"Don't worry about it," I shook my head and started to stack the mess of papers for him. "My roommate already filled me in on how interesting he can be."
"It's rare that someone gets under his skin like that so she must be interesting too. I'm a sit and watch the show kind of guy. Dan is a poke it with a stick until it attacks kind of guy. So, I'm sure he provoked her as well."
"You don't know Sydney," I laughed, handing him the papers. "Her fuse is as long as an eyelash and she likes provoking people too. I've only known her for a few months and I've seen her have more confrontations with people than I've ever had in my life."
"Oh damn," he laughed. "Well then, I guess we're all in for an interesting semester. I'm expecting some serious fireworks and I will just sit and watch. Feel free to join me."
"I'll bring the fire extinguisher," I sniggered as I stood up from my chair. Assuming that our time together was ending, I moved over to the desk where I'd left my things and started to collect them.
He stood up as well and stacked all of the papers before walking over to his desk and slipping them into a brown leather bag that was sitting on top of it. "Would you like for me to walk you out?" he asked as we walked towards the door.
"Sure," I agreed, following behind him. Once we were in the hall he stopped to lock the door before we continued down the corridor towards the stairwell. "So when do I get to see you again? For work-study I mean," I quickly added the last bit and pointed behind us with my thumb.
"I believe you're going to be with me on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday so I'll see you Wednesday," he replied as he pushed open the door leading out of the building and waited for me to walk through. "But you know where my room is if you feel like visiting anytime."
"Is that an invitation to visit whenever I want?" I responded much before I could stop myself. It almost sounded flirty.
Because it was flirty.
"You are a wise woman," he replied, giving me that crooked grin of his. "I've got to head this way," he told me, pointing towards the right when I'd turned to walk left. "Hopefully I'll see you soon?"
"Hopefully," I grinned back at him. "Have fun with your needy brother, Phil."
I'd been walking for a few seconds when I heard him speak up and I glanced over my shoulder at him. "Oh, and Brighton? I just thought I would let you know that since you're working with me I have your phone number. Don't be surprised if you get a random text. Work related, of course," he winked before turning away and walking again.
A/N: Please leave a review and let us know what you think. This story is very different from the others we have written. It's AU and also much more mature, which you'll see as it progresses.
