Chapter 2:

The lecture passed without any interruptions, sadly. I spent the last half hour doodling cartoons over my notes, if that's what you could call them. How many times was Professor Rockerfeld going to talk about advanced medicinal techniques?

When she finally let us out of that damned hall, it seemed like half of the day had passed by and I was headed back to my flat because really, what else was there in this world that was worth being awake for? I yawned and tightened my grip on my computer bag before I felt a buzz! in my pocket.

Charlie:

Hey! dont forget about 2nites party!

I sighed as I remembered his invitation at the beginning of the lecture. Why did I tell him I would go to his damned party? I was too tired for that. I'll just cancel on him.

Sorry, mate. I'm going to have to cancel.

BUZZ!

Really?! mary will be there ;D

Mary? I raised my eyebrows in interest. Mary was in my Chemistry 104 course. Sure, she was very pretty, but I've only ever talked to her once. She was very self-confident, saying the strangest things, but it was kind of charming. Maybe I will go…

Alright, what time will it be?

BUZZ!

nice! XD come on over after ur last class, k?

I smiled at my phone before shoving it into my pocket. Well, looks like I actually have something to look forward to. Charlie really needed to stop texting like an idiot, though.

My last class of the day was Psychology, probably one of the worst courses I possibly have to take. It's not that I disliked the subject, I found it to be rather interesting, but it was the professor! Professor Smith was an absolute bore and I wasn't surprised when I looked around and saw that half of the class had fallen asleep as he continued to drone on at the front of the room.

I rested my chin in the palm of my hand and looked around, trying to keep myself from falling asleep. It was a fairly large classroom, with seats circling the front of the room as if it were an arena. A podium stood at the front of the room with a large blackboard behind it, where the one Professor Smith stood.

I looked at the clock above the door, willing it to go faster so I could finally leave here, when something caught my eye. I squinted and looked closer at the small window that adorned the door. There was a man, just standing there, watching. Was he lost? As far as I could tell, he had midnight-black, curly hair that almost went past his eyes. He looked at the professor and then raised a paper to his face. Shaking his head, he shrugged what I guess was a bookbag onto his shoulder and walked away.

What the fuck? I thought, my face contorted into a confused expression. I guess Professor Smith thought I was confused on his lesson because he called on me.

"Watson, do you have a question to ask or are you too busy admiring the door?" His voice was slow and monotonous, which was the reason most of us fell asleep listening to him.

"Um…ah…n-no, sir." I stammered back, looking back and forth between him and the door where the strange man had stood. Who was he?

When the class was finally over, I gathered up my things and slowly walked out of the classroom. I was brain dead. There was no way I was going to pass this year. My brain was mush and all these professors managed to do was keep it that way. I was dead.

I sighed as I took a bus into town. I was almost out of food anyways, so I might as well get some while I went to pick up some wine-coolers for Charlie. I got off the bus and walked to the closest grocer I could find. I didn't plan on drinking much, though. It ran in my family, alcoholism. Harry was a pretty bad example. We used to be pretty close before she met Clara and alcohol, her mistress. Then we drifted apart and here we are today.

In the midst of my pity party, I stopped paying attention to where I was going and ran into someone, dropping my tomatoes and causing them to drop their…eyeballs?

"Oh, I'm so sorry…wasn't paying attention." I apologized, reaching down to pick up my tomatoes.

"Well, maybe you should start." A deep voice responded to me. I looked up from my crouched position and saw a tall man with porcelain skin and dark, curly hair. He wore faded jeans and Vans, with a purple shirt and a black hoodie. He seemed about my age, if maybe a little younger.

"I'm…s-sorry, have we met…before?" I said as I looked at his familiar face. And that hair, that hair was so familiar.

"I doubt it. You would remember me if you had." He said, picking up his bag of eyeballs. Then it hit me. He was the strange man from the door!

"Oh! Weren't you outside Professor Smith's classroom earlier?" I exclaimed. Yes, it was definitely him.

"Yes, as it happens, I was. Why? Are you a student of his? Oh, of course you are." He said, giving me a dismissing wave of his hand as he bent down to grab his eyeballs.

I stood up and brushed of my jeans and looked at him again. He was taller than I had originally thought, taller than me by at least a head or two. Damnit, why was everyone fucking taller than me? The height issue was quickly chased from my mind, though, as I saw the bag of eyeballs once more.

"May I ask why you have a bag of eyeballs?"

"Well, you already did ask so it was pointless to ask permission." He began to walk away and for some reason, I followed him.

"They aren't human…are they?"

"Well, of course not! What idiot would bring a sack of human eyeballs to a grocery market? Honestly. They're fish eyes. The manager here gives them to me for a bargained price."

"Why do you need fish eyes?" I asked.

"Why do you keep asking questions?" The man stopped and turned around to face me, his features torn between annoyed and confused.

"Maybe because…..because I want to know." I shrugged, not being able to think of a better solution.

"Hmm." He mused, narrowing his eyes. I guess that was enough of an answer for him because, without saying another word, he turned around and continued to walk away.

Confused, I stood there for a while before realizing I didn't know his name.

"I'm John Watson, by the way. What's yours?" I offered, figuring that if he was at Professor Smiths room, he must be a student there as well.

"Sherlock Holmes." He offered. "I would say it was nice to meet you, John, but seeing as you made me drop my eyes, I can't really offer you that comfort. Afternoon."

And just like that, he walked out of the store, leaving me shocked in the middle of the aisle. I probably would've stood there all day, too, if Charlie hadn't texted me again.

Charlie:

John, where r u, m8?

Right, the party. I was going to a party. I was going to hang out with Charlie and Mary. But even though I was going to a party, I couldn't stop thinking of Sherlock Holmes. What a strange man.