Victoire POV
The aroma of vanilla syrup and burning coffee, stirred me from the depths of sleep. Peeking through one eye; I find herself annoyed that my roommate has for whatever reason decided that six am on a Monday morning is the perfect time to announce her arrival by burning the coffee and trying to disguise it with an overwhelming round of vanilla scented air-spray.
"Do you know what time it is." I groan, covering my head with the feather filled pillow.
"No, but I have some news that you might find pleasant."
News, or rather gossip seemed to revolve around Cassidy like no tomorrow. Lifting my head up and away from the pillow, I move some of the stray hairs away from her slightly less than storm-water grey eyes and stares at my roommate who sits down on her own bed. The scent of burnt coffee is still there. Cassidy speaks:
"So, you know that dreadful history professor you had all of last semester?"
"The one that I have at noon for this semester."
"He's been replaced."
"What?"
It's only seconds later, I'm given a blueberry muffin, which I suspect was taken from the cafeteria downstairs; Cassidy was such a flirt, but it was because she was so flirtish that the guy at the counter, whose shift was every second day seemed to forget that she like every other student in Cambridge had to pay. Food she could get away with stealing from underneath Bryan's nose but coffee? We had to make do with her pathetic half-attempts at making it for the two of us, I note that we must have run out of milk, I know this because Cassidy prefers to drown her coffee with as much milk and sugar as humanly possible. She still tries her best to drink the black liquid of life. On the other hand, I am just fine with straight black coffee – though like everyone else whose ever had the chance to drink burnt coffee, I try not to wince.
"Yeah, apparently he was diagnosed with something. Literally resigned effective immediately. His replacement is here on tenure from Birmingham or something. He's quite the looker and young as well." Cassidy's cheek turning rosy pink.
Reaching for my phone, which I have left neglected up till this moment. The screen lights up; I smile fondly at the image of my black cat 'Phoenix' who I had to leave back in New York in order to attend Cambridge University. Flicking through the meaningless notifications from various study groups. The last email catches my attention. I feel the stress of dealing with old man Professor Frogmore leave my body; it seems it's not just gossip after all. I look up at Cassidy before opening the email to read the staff update for my third-year criminal history unit.
"His name is Associate Professor Thomas Shelby. He's here for the semester. Taking Frogmore's place. If he is as you described, young…. He'll be popular and who knows he might even get an offer to stay on."
Cassidy wiggles her eyebrows at me, I roll my eyes and shut my phone off. She laughs at my expression. Biting into the muffin and chewing I wonder what kind of man this new professor is, and what learning under him will be like. Part of me feared that he would like Frogmore pick on me for my poor academic results, not from lack of trying – lack of time. I was here in the United Kingdom, literally by myself – save Cassidy who was the daughter of some wealthy businessman. I was having to work my ass off to keep my place in the university, make money on the side to avoid falling behind on paying my university debt, as such I had barely any time left to actually study and get the results I actually wanted.
"Earth to Victoire. What are you going to wear? You know first impressions count especially if you want to save yourself another fail."
"Shut up. I… I have no idea." I mumble after a moment
"Feel free to borrow anything from my closet." Cassidy gives me an encouraging smile.
It's 11:30 by the time I finally have the balls to walk through campus, even after a lot of encouragement that a new look would make an impression from Cassidy, I caved to my usual choice of woollen jumper, collared shirt, leggings and a pair of brown suede boots. My makeup is minimal at best and my square rimmed glasses sit on the bridge of nose comfortably. I'm glad to find that most of the lecture hall is empty, climbing the steps and into one of the back rows I sit down and set myself up. I've always kept to myself and there's no way in hell I could even tell you the first name of any of the three hundred students who attend this lecture – some of the shits and giggles, others because they have to do it and students like me who are fascinated by history, but know there's no job to be found afterwards; as such I was doing this as an elective.
My mother who had forced bio-medicine onto me from the moment I could breathe, found it abhorrent that I was still single, and doing history units when she felt that there were better things that I could be doing like lab work for some snooty colleague of her… the same colleague who had interviewed me, for my place into the university. I still avoided the labs like the plague, not that that was left unnoticed. I was literally at risk of being expelled at my lack of lab hours at the university.
Thomas POV
"We're so glad you could join us."
I am greeted with firm looks of encouragement, having set myself up in the quickly cleared office of one Andrew Frogmore, diagnosed with stage three brain cancer. I allow the faculty head to make aimless, idle chatter. Nodding when and where she needs a reaction out of me. Keeping an eye on my pocket watch, I'm relieved when she finally leaves me to my own devices.
"First order of business. Noon lecture."
The man who proceeded me, seemed to think I was an incompetent idiot, tossing out the notebook full of notes meant for the unit, I read over the content and find myself wondering how on Earth the man kept his job so long. Pinching the bridge of my nose. I must not quit. I must not quit. New students. New university. What could possibly go wrong?
Stepping into the lecture hall, I'm glad to find the place mostly packed, strange considering it is a history lecture, a third-year elective that I believed was a bludge subject for many of the students who were sitting watching my every move. The abrupt fit of giggles and the sight of certain blushing females told me they approved. Setting my laptop bag down on the table, I scan the crowd. Just how many of you are going to stay? Just how many of you will I fail? Setting up the slides and picking up the mic I test the equipment before introducing myself and beginning the class.
Victoire POV
His arrival is ushered by the sounds of giggling, some camera flashes and obvious signs of envy, speculation. Is the man single? Is he taken? He's eyes are piercing blue and it's easy to fall into them, even from a distance there's a magnetism to them that is almost unnatural. His voice is like liquid gold, velvet and deep. He has our attention, some of us for all the wrong reasons. Furthermore; he's nothing like our former professor who knew our names, and who called on us; only to taunt us for our lack of knowledge. This Professor Shelby speaks to us as though we're equals with minds that have yet to be challenged… so lost in the thought of him I realise I'm behind on notes and I scramble to catch up. Focus! He might be good looking but if you fail this unit again, you'll never be able to graduate. I tell myself, attempting to distract myself from the beauty of the man and focus merely on his voice… but with a voice such as his – it's easy to get lost in the daydreaming… so I focus on his slides.
"All of these slides and my transcript for today's lecture. Like every other lecture for this semester will be uploaded right afterwards. So, don't worry about feeling the need to attend when everything you need is at your disposal. I look forward to getting to know each and every one of you."
It's slightly menacing and no doubt, the shivers I feel running up and down my spine I the same for everyone else in the room. as soon as we're dismissed I clumsily pick up my belongings watching out of the corner of my eye as he stands by the lecturer's desk, an air of nonchalant of female students of all kinds approach to introduce themselves. God they're all so needy to get into his pants. I decide that it's best to introduce myself at a later time – when there's not as many people around.
Thomas POV
I spy her leaving, without saying goodbye or even a hello. She's unlike the other girls, plain, simple, honest and true. It seems she considered approaching only to turn on her heel and leave like the rest of the cohort. The other females on the other hand, are swamping me with their shared identical perfumes, their high-pitched almost childish voices. If this is what most typical third year female students sounded like. Then I was in for a hell of a time. I'm only too relieved when I am finally given the opportunity to pack up my belongings and leave for my office. The student who didn't bother to say hello is standing outside my office, a cup of coffee in hand – a beanie that she wasn't wearing earlier sat on her head, her face was currently hidden by the pages of a large paperback book. I cleared my throat, causing her to look up, her cheeks reddening.
"Did you need something?"
"Uh, yes. Hi. Nice to meet you. I'm Victoire Haworth."
Victoire Haworth, a French name for an American girl. I move past her to unlock my office door and step inside, my arm gesturing to her, she follows me shutting the door behind her and taking a seat as I arrange myself and sit down. She's still holding the cup and her eyes are now focused on me. Looking into her eyes, is like looking into my own and the reflection is startling. She adjusts her glasses and then speaks, it's only now away from the noise of my office colleagues, that I can finally begin to absorb and listen to her voice. It's not high like the other females in her cohort. It's mature, like fine wine and there's a hint of nervousness and some underlying emotion that I can't quite pin.
"I'm not the best student the previous professor ever had… and I thought to umm inform you that if my grades are not very good that you should tell me… and I'll do my best to improve."
She's sincere in her request. Typing her name into the system. I read over her previous grades, she's been a long-time student of said previous professor. Her grades are terrible, most of her assignments are late in. I look at the screen then I analyse Victoire again. It is not from a lack of motivation or a lack of interest… the underlying emotions that were there behind her eyes make sense now. She's exhausted, like a work horse.
"I can certainly see that he made your life hard. I however, am of the 'clean slate' type. So, I will not be considering your previous performance for any of the units that you have studied under Professor Frogmore. In return do try your absolute best to just get your assignments in. Even if they're half done."
"I won't disappoint you." Her tone is lighter, her expression freer.
"Is there anything else you need Miss Haworth."
"No, but thank you for this chance Professor Shelby."
"Please. Call me Tommy."