The start of a new year causes many people to seek improvements in their lifestyle, but nothing sparks reinvention quite like the start of a new semester, or even better, the start of a new educational journey. This semester will bring better notes, a hundred percent attendance, perfect test scores, a fulfilling social life, a dozen romantic experiences, and maybe true love if you are lucky enough to find it.
***
Layla unpacked her bag and put all her clothes in the closet as the first thing before she continued unpacking all the other essentials. Within an hour or two, she had finished setting up her living quarters and left her dear friend, Marisha, notorious party girl – she had already established her campus personality by setting up a sound system – to take a nap on the couch.
"I will be back before six," Layla said on her way out the door.
"I am turning the music on at five," Marisha mumbled.
"Alright, as long as I can sleep by eleven,"
"ELEVEN?" Marisha complained, "But it is our first night on campus, we have to make a name for ourselves, establish who we are."
"And I intend to do that by getting some sleep and being ready for the first day of classes."
Marisha continued mumbling as Layla grabbed her coat, "I have my phone turned on if you need me to get anything."
"Alright, alright, have fun exploring," Marisha said, "maybe some snacks."
"Noted."
***
Layla returned to the dorm after exploring the entire campus, making sure she knew where everything was, when she bumped into James on her way to their room.
James had been in love with Layla since the first day of preschool, when he had helped her colour in pages in a colouring book we had been given. I had not done anything special, but he seemed to simply like my company. They had started dating on and off since then. Initially, their parents had just considered it a childhood folly, which she suspected she had as well. And eventually they had grown apart as sweethearts but grown closer as friends.
"On your way to see me?" she asked with a grin.
He laughed with her, "Actually, I am here for the party," he said.
"A little early for that, isn't it?"
He smiled with his warm brown eyes, "I think Marisha started it early, so that it can end early. I think you might have something to do with that?"
Layla smiled, "You know me so well – yes, I need to be up early for class." She paused, looking at his lips, remembering her first kiss. "Come on, let's go in and meet her then."
They entered the room, where music was already blasting out, and Marisha was dancing on top of one of the tables. James looked at Layla and just barely managed to hide a chuckle, "I think you will have your work cut out for you with her."
"I knew I would, when I signed up for our local university," she whispered, "if I had wanted to get rid of you all, I would have travelled away."
"But you did not," James answered, somehow having heard her over the loud music.
"Excuse me," a boy said as he walked past them, dangerously close to spilling his drink all over them, "drinks coming through." He pumped into James on his way, almost intentionally, Layla thought to herself as she glanced after him.
"If he spills any of that on my carpets, I am gonna hunt him down to clean it."
James looked over to her, "You have some weird threats."
"Oh no!" Layla yelled as she continued looking at the rude boy, "Is that a cigarette?" Absolutely not!!"
"Wow, there," James said, "let me handle it."
Layla took a deep breath and tried to remember to have fun at the party – first thing on the list: join Marisha at the table for a dance.
***
First day of classes, first day of an exciting semester, Layla stumbled into the cafeteria in search of coffee. She did not usually stumble, except of course when she was in need of some good coffee, so maybe she stumbled more than she thought.
"No, wait, save some for me," she said as she saw the last bit of coffee drip into the coffee cup in the hand of the man in front of her.
"Sorry, dear, I need my coffee," the man answered, his brown eyes meeting hers, unapologetically, not sorry, though he smiled.
She bit her tongue a little, trying to hold back her frustration as she looked at his smile. He looked so aggravating, she thought, with his smart little briefcase and his put-together professional outfit, way more mature than most other men she had seen on campus.
"But I need it too – maybe even more!" she desperately tried and remembered to contain her frustration inside herself. She had been told to do that once by a teacher in preschool, and it had proven a useful lesson so far.
"That is where you are wrong – no one needs it more than I," he said with a laugh. "Besides, I got to it first. Have a nice day," he said and walked away.
"Have a nice day," she mumbled to herself, "impossible."
She looked down at her wristwatch, checking that she had plenty of time before her first class.
***
Layla walked down the corridors, located the room for her first class, and entered it about one hour before it was about to start. She had already checked that it was not in use beforehand, so she would have time to set up and mentally prepare by running over the topics on the curriculum in her head.
"Oh, I didn't think anyone but me would be here yet," she said, smiling at the young man in front of her.
He lifted his brows, "I think what you really mean to say is, you didn't think anyone else would take their studies as seriously as you do?"
She took a step back. Well, he was not entirely wrong, she thought, but it was a rude way of putting it. "Not exactly," she tried, quickly laying a plan for how to win him over. If he really did take his studies seriously, he might be a good candidate for a future group project or general study sparring. But it did not seem he was up for such ideas.
"You will have to take your charm offence somewhere else, it won't work on me, I dedicate all my time to my studies – well, except for Friday evenings of course."
"Friday evenings? What is so special about that?"
He grinned, "I see you are intent on competing with me."
That was not what she had meant, Layla screamed to herself in her head.
"But of course, I spend the evening having dinner with my parents – they have obliged me to come every week unless I have an outstanding excuse."
Layla nodded, "Oh, I see…"
"But of course, no time for charming young ladies such as yourself," he said with a wink.
She was about to gag at those words, "aaanyway," she said, "have a nice class." Layla quickly picked up her bag and took a seat with a few chairs between them, but still so that she was sitting in the middle area of the front row.
The room slowly began to fill as there were 15 minutes to the start of class, and on the dot when the class began, a man with a put-together outfit and a briefcase walked in and stood up in front of the class. He put down the briefcase, leaning it against the lectern, and turned towards them. It was the man from the cafeteria, Layla realised the moment she saw the briefcase, and then their eyes met. He was so close to the first row that she realised that the floor of the first row and the lectern were on the same level. Except she was sitting down, and he was standing. She looked him dead in the eyes, remembering that he was holding a cup of coffee that could have been hers, or at least they could have shared it.
The teacher lifted his eyebrows vaguely, not enough for anyone but her to notice.
"It is a pleasure to meet you," he said, speaking out towards the entire room, but his eyes lingered on her longer than she would have liked. She could feel her cheeks turn red. Now she really wished she had not sat in the front row.