First Day
…
Today was my first day of school. It was… well, interesting. Not what I expected, I suppose.
My alarm clock went off at the right time, I took an average length shower, put on my favorite polo shirt and jeans, and ate some dry cereal for breakfast, leaving just enough time to get to my first class a few minutes early. After I finished eating a peaceful breakfast, with no stoners around, I put on some comfortable shoes and a jacket just in case. Then I set out for my English class.
When I reached the classroom, there was a paper taped to the door.
Class moved-
9:15-10:30am ENGL&101 with Hart, E
Now located in A302
The A building? Where the hell was the A building?
I didn't bring a campus map with me, so I searched one up on my PearPhone.
Of course, the A building was on the other side of campus, near the administration building.
Swearing, I ran at top speed to the A building.
Once there, I dashed inside and began scanning everywhere for mention of room 302. When I couldn't find it, I asked someone sitting at an information desk where it was.
"A302? Oh that's on the third floor, first hall. The elevator's right over there."
She pointed to an alcove between two hallways and I mentally slapped myself for not thinking of the possibility that the 3 meant that it was on the third floor.
"Stupid, stupid, stupid", I muttered as I punched the button for the third floor repeatedly.
I checked my watch and, to my dismay, found that class had officially started two minutes ago.
"Shit."
The elevator dinged and I dashed down the first hallway.
I found room A302 and paused briefly to compose myself before walking in. All eyes turned to me, and then to my backpack. Then the students resumed their chatting, completely ignoring me. I looked up at the podium to find that our instructor had actually not arrived yet.
I plopped down in a seat near the front and took a deep breath.
Several minutes later, a short man with greying hair came into the room, and silence fell as he smiled at all of us.
"I must apologize for my tardiness, class. You see, it seems someone has moved the location of our class and did not inform me of the change. I'm sure you were all here on time?"
A couple people chuckled quietly and I guessed I wasn't the only one who was a little late.
Thus began my first college class. Professor Hart was an interesting person. He got down to business quickly, but was able to weave a couple of lighthearted comments into his lecture so we could relieve a bit of out nervous anticipation through laughter.
After class ended, I quickly jogged to the room my Psychology class was supposed to be held in, and was relieved to see that it had not been relocated. That class was taught by Miss Stevens, a small woman with curly caramel hair and a passion for teaching. We participated in an anonymous survey about motivation, which she explained would be used in a study the psychology professors were putting together. That class went smoothly and for me, it was followed by a lunch break during which I finished all my homework for those two classes as well as a ham sandwich.
My next class was Microeconomics with a slightly grouchy British man who told us to call him Professor Donovan. We got a considerable amount of work to do in that class, and I was grateful to my mom for buying all my textbooks ahead of time.
Lastly, I had Calculus II. This was taught by a strict lady referred to only as "Ma'am". Fortunately, I'd brushed up on the Calculus I'd learned senior year, and could remember almost everything.
When Mrs. Ma'am finally let us out, I immediately headed for the comfort of my dorm. I completed my homework as quick as I could, because I was eager to talk to Sam.
The second I finished my last math problem, I dialed Sam's number.
"Freddie?"
"Sam! How goes it?"
"Umm… it's… not important. How was your first day?"
"I was late for my fist class!"
"No way! You? Your middle name is punctual!"
I laughed, "Since when do you use words like 'punctual'?"
"Since I started dating a college boy; I want him to think I'm smarter than I am."
I smiled and she asked, "So what happened that made you late?"
I told her all about my flawless plans and the note on the door that screwed it all up. She chuckled when I told her about the amazing Mr. Hart and laughed even harder when I told her about Professor Donovan and Mrs. Ma'am.
"They sound like Mr. Howard and Miss Briggs!"
"Exactly! Only I don't have Mr. Franklin around to tell them to shut up!"
Sam laughed again and we reminisced about the wonderful Principal Franklin.
"Spencer still talks to him, you know", Sam informed me.
"Really? Been spending a lot of time with Mr. Artist, have you?"
"Umm… yeah. Anyways, Spencer's actually making a sculpture for the school, on Franklin's orders."
"No way! Really? What of?"
"He won't tell me, but it looks a hell of a lot like a turtle made of tea bags, though why we need one of those at Ridgeway is a mystery to me."
I rolled my eyes.
"Only Spencer."
"Only Spencer", Sam agreed.
We chatted for another hour about Spencer and school, but the conversation ended when I asked, "So what's up with Carly?"
"Why?" Sam asked with a slightly panicky tone.
"Have you talked to her recently? Is she acting funny?"
I scrunched my eyebrows together.
"…no."
"You haven't talked to her, or she's not acting funny?"
"Both I guess. Maybe I should call her…"
"NO! I mean, she's at a… retreat! Yeah, she's off in the woods, no cell signal. Something for biology I think."
"Sam, what aren't you telling me?"
"Nothing! I'm just worried about Carly… getting attacked by bears! I haven't been able to get a hold of her to see if she's okay. Spencer's kind of nervous about… beavecoons."
"Sam…"
"Bye!"
And she hung up on me.
"There are no bears in Florida", I muttered to myself, "and no forests either."
I tried to call Carly but got the busy signal.
After that, I decided to start working on setting up a Skype so that I could see Sam. It can be hard to tell what she's really thinking just by voice. I know she's lying about something, and it has to be something big is she's so worked up that I can hear the lies. I just don't know what could get her that worked up.
Unless… what if something's wrong with Sam? What if…
I gasped.
There was only one thing I knew could really rattle Sam: Max. And if Max was involved somehow, Sam could be in big trouble.
…
What do you think is going on with Sam? Is Max intervening in her life again, or is it something else?
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