Chapter 2

I peeked inside the lecture hall's doors first. There was a good number of people seated in the far back rows of the classroom. They were all still on their phones and talking among each other. It seemed like class hadn't started yet which made me feel a little more at ease. Although the professor wasn't completely visible through the almost plastic windows on the doors, he seemed to be writing something on the large chalkboard.

As I stared on lost in thought I started to feel light headed. There was this sharp but very faint sensation in my chest as I stared at our Professor. My body wanted to turn and leave. Why was I so afraid?

"Come on, he isn't paying attention. Let's try to not make a lot of noise," I whispered and Elise nodded in reply.

We opened the door and took three quiet steps, planning to take the seats at the far left of the room and in the very front to avoid going up the steps. However, once our feet touched the next tile on the floor, we froze.

"You girls are late... Let me guess, a little late-night drinking the night before your first day of class?" Our professor hadn't turned around, and I had sworn we made no sound whatsoever. He just knew that we were late. He also happened to know about our little night. What the hell was his problem? Though in his defense, it simply is common for college students to drink, right?

He never turned to look at us and simply gave us a wave of this hand. "Just go, take a seat."

I turned to Elise and mouthed the words,

what the fuck?

She just shook her head and pushed me forward until we reached the seats we had our eyes on. Thankfully, the rest of the room hardly even noticed we were there and kept on with their activities. I shrugged off what had happened and took out a notebook and a pen. The first day of classes was always easiest. I would take down some notes on things we actually needed for the class including books and other things, then write down some assignments and get our syllabus. I was hopeful that this would be a simple day and an enjoyable class nonetheless.

But that faint stabbing in my chest lingered and kept me on edge. Something wasn’t right. There was adrenaline coursing through me at the moment for no apparent reason and it was making it impossible for me to not fidget in my seat. I wanted to attribute it to being embarrassed at being called out by our Professor, but that wasn't it. The nagging feeling started the moment I laid eyes on him. What was going on?

I took a deep breath and looked over at Elise. She was usually quiet during class. I was used to her focusing on her phone, or on notes. I was usually the one asking questions, giving my opinion—even when it wasn't needed—and accidentally starting conversations in the middle of lecture. So this time, I followed in her footsteps and stayed quiet.

With the professor still standing with his back towards us, I couldn't help but glare at him. I was angry for him calling us out in front of everyone. I wanted to insult him—like the child I was—and tell him he looked stupid, or his clothes were stupid, but I hadn't even seen his face yet. From what I gathered, he was tall and probably in his fifty's just like every teacher I've had. He was wearing jeans with a white collared shirt and his hair was this mess of tousled waves like mine, only his was obviously much shorter than mine, which reached past my shoulders.

He's going to be such an asshole.

I rolled my eyes and dedicated him another glare, and for a single moment, I heard a snicker! Had he felt me burn a hole into the back of his shirt? Could he feel my hostility towards him already?

"Okay, class. Now to get started, sorry for the wait," he turned around, his eyes meeting mine for a split second, which was long enough for me to feel uneasy, "I'm Professor Wyatt. I'll be teaching Existentialism, or rather, probing your minds to see how much depth they have, all the while causing feeling of discomfort. I have copies of my updated syllabus on the table by the door, so before you leave, make sure to take one with you. The needed book for the class is on there, so are the attendance and tardy policies for this class."

I had to bite my tongue, the bastard was looking straight at me. I looked away immediately, his glare made me nervous and I did not want to be the one student that stuck out to him. I for once wanted to just blend in.

"That's really all I had to say as an introduction. So let's get your minds working. I've written a question on the chalkboard. I want you to jot it down and then, I want someone to give me an answer to that question." Professor Wyatt paced back and forth, keeping himself at the far side of the classroom where we could hardly see his face. I wanted to glare at him so bad and see the look of uneasiness from him, the way he made me feel just moments before.

I sighed and watched Elise take notes, already well ahead of everyone else. I reached in for my backpack and took out a notebook and a pen. I strained a little to read the question on the board,

What does it mean to exist?

Was he serious? Such a vague and annoying question. It was almost as if he knew how to trigger me because deep down I wanted to blurt out my opinions and years of study, but I knew I had to hold my tongue.

"Anyone come up with anything?" He leaned against the far right door, arms crossed, and though I really couldn't see his face I knew his expression was smug.

He pointed to a guy sitting in the back row who had his arm raised. He ran his fingers through his hair, nervously, before answering, "Well, to exist means to live right? So existing means we're living."

I bit my tongue, I wanted to answer so badly, there were Descartes quotes running through my mind. I think therefore I am!

"Not exactly—I mean, what you say is true, if we live we also exist—however do we really need to be alive to exist?" he looked around the room, "Anyone else?"

It took a minute but a girl sitting behind Elise raised her hand and he gladly let her speak. "To find enlightenment?" she shrugged her shoulders.

He paused again to interpret what she said. "Not quite what I'm looking for. Anyone else?" He looked around the room while I sighed to myself and jotted my own notes down.

"Something you want to add?" He pointed towards me.

I shook my head. "No sir." My words came out softly, afraid to call attention to myself. I swore I could almost tell it made him a little irritated. He took the packet of papers he had rolled in his hand and pushed himself off the door he was leaning on. I couldn't tell if he was staring straight at me or someone behind me but he made his way towards me. His stride made me nervous, there was something about him that wasn't right.

As he approached me, I could finally see his features. He wasn't in his fifties like I thought he was. He was young, maybe only a few years older than his students. I told myself he must have been a graduate student teaching this class. His eyes were hazel, a swirl of colors combining to something hypnotizing, and his hair tousled and messy, it made him look...attractive? I couldn't believe what I was thinking. I had to force myself to look away and bite my lip.

He chuckled. "Come on, there must be something you want to say."

The feeling of irritation came flooding back, why wouldn't he just leave me alone? "The whole depends on whether you're considering it to be scientific or philosophical."

He nodded. "Well, isn't this a philosophy course?"

His sarcastic smirk annoyed me. "It can go either way."

His lips turned into a smirk. "Enlighten us, Ms. Noelle. What does it mean to exist?"