one

Lay's POV

I walked down the university's hallway clutching my bag strap. I wasn't sure where my first course was taking place since this place was much larger than my other school and all I was given was the classroom number. How did they expect students to find the right classroom when they don't even provide any other forms of aid? Especially in a school so large.

However, putting that aside, I kept walking. My mind only barely perceptive to the thing occurring around me. It was the beginning of a new school semester and I'm now in my first year of a degree programme. This wasn't my first choice for a degree but it was what was available at the time. And rather than waste my time at home doing nothing, this seemed like a more productive way to go.

With my bag filled with about three notebooks and a couple other items, I was able to move faster than I did in primary school or even secondary. Which meant that walking down the hallways were much easier this time. Thank God since it seemed so damn long.

After five more minutes of searching I finally, I found the classroom. It was the last one at the end of the hallway.  I stood in front of the door, looking up at the number painted on.  Things of this sort always tugged at my nerves.  I took a deep breath and reached for the door handle, carefully pulling open the door.  I was greeted with a gust of cool air from the ac units.

I entered the quiet room and looked around. There were rows of desks and chairs all lined up neatly, while a single desk was at the front of the room. That was most likely for the lecturer.  I picked a desk at the front left, close to the door and placed my bag on the chair.

That's when I noticed that there weren't many people in class this morning for some weird reason. Maybe this degree wasn't popular with the students that attend here. Or maybe, everyone is just late. Not that it mattered, I usually work better with smaller groups of students. I sat down and got a notebook out. I opened it and penned the date before taking out my phone.

No new messages.

I frowned. It would have been nice to get a message or two every now and then.

Not before long, the class started and more people came in - one of which was an old friend who happened to be in the same programme as me.  That was quite a lucky coincidence.

By the end of the day I was quite tired. I had to introduce myself to about 2 lecturers, who mostly seemed nice for most parts. There was this one in particular though that was a bit laid back and pretty funny. I think I liked her the most. She had dark brown hair which fell past her shoulders, however it was tied up in a high ponytail and eyes which were a deep shade of brown. Her name was Ms Flynn and she taught multiple courses for my degree and I was excited to get to know her more. I'm not really sure why,  maybe it was the way she just lit up a room as she came in.  Or probably it was in the way she articulated her words and only ever sounded intelligent.  Come to think of it, I haven't felt like this about any teacher before.

But she's just my lecturer. Nothing more and nothing less. However, after today - part of me ached to get to know more about her.

That evening I came home a bit later than I intended. Due to the awkward parking lot, where I had to wait longer to actually get out of the parking space than I had planned.  The first place I chose to go to was of course, the kitchen to get a snack.

That's when my stepfather came downstairs. He was around my mother's age and seemed to really care about her.  His name was Matthew.  A bit generic but he more or less lived up to the name. Matthew had a son,  my stepbrother who I barely interacted with. However, Matthew seemed happier today than usual which was a pleasant surprise. Once he's happy the entire house lights up for some reason.

"Lay? You're home already?" He asked. I was surprised he asked this since this time I came home later than I told him this morning. Did he really forget this? Or was he just trying to make small talk as usually? I don't  mind the small talk with him, since he was the father I never had, but.... well sometimes I can tell he tries too hard to relate to me.

"Yeah, I'm just looking for food." I answered, not even bother to remind him that I returned later than intended.  I opened the fridge and peered at the contents, ever since my mom remarried the fridge had been stocked with random food items that Matthew insisted on buying. A frown tugged at my lips as I leaned forward to look behind a couple of jars.

"Okay, well I'm going to pick up your mum. See you for dinner." He said right before he headed towards the front door.

"Stay safe." I called out, right before the front door was closed.  I headed over to the front door and locked before peeping out the window and watching as my step father left the house.

My real dad died when I was ten and my mother remarried Matthew. He's pretty cool, for most parts and all. He's tall and charming, he has a decent amount of money since he is employed in the business sector. I think its dealing with accounts and financing but I've never really sat down and had a heart to heart with him in a long while so I'm not too sure.

Due to his job and my mother's, I was left home alone which was fine. Afterall, I've gotten used to it and I actually like the quiet time. Plus Matthew's son is away at his university dorm for the while.  Which meant more space for me.

After locking the door, I headed back into the kitchen and fixed myself a plate of chocolate chip cookies and a bottle of juice, I headed up to my room and started on my homework. Can you believe that they still gave homework at university level? I thought it wouldn't have been a thing but I guess I was wrong.

I attempted to complete my homework before I did anything else since I tend to procrastinate a lot. But who doesn't.

Thankfully since it was the first day of uni, I did not receive too much work. Just a couple of questions in two courses. After finishing, I ended up watching TV for about three hours before having dinner, which consisted of leftovers.

Then it was bedtime.

It was surprising though, my parents didn't return home at dinner time that night. In fact, it was probably around 12 am when I finally heard the car pulling up outside. Guess tardiness runs in the family.  I didn't bother to check them, but I did hear my bedroom door open.  My mother's scent filled the room as she ensured I was asleep before leaving.

The next day at school I had the same course that Ms Flynn taught, for my first class. I headed to the designated room and waited for my teacher to arrive.

Darcy sat next to me for this course. She had black hair and grey eyes unlike me. She had been taking another undergraduate degree but for some reason she switched out and join the same degree as I did. Which was a bit of a relief since we knew each other we.

Finally, after a while of waiting, our teacher walked into class wearing a black shirt and black pants (which were kind of tight). Her pretty hair was tied up in a high ponytail and she wore a pair of dark heels.

"Good morning." She said cheerfully.

"Good morning." Some of us answered back definitely not matching her levels of enthusiasm.

She smiled and started to write on the board, I turned to Darcy and spoke.

"Don't you think that pants are a little to tight?" I asked slightly worried. Was there even a dress code in this university.  Couldn't she have gotten disciplined for wearing something of this sort to teach? Or maybe I'm just overthinking it.

"Stop being a perv-" Darcy teased as she nudged me.

My eyes widened as I began to tap the pencil against my notebook.

"I'm not, it's a serious question." I responded.

"Nah, she looks good in it so it doesn't really matter." She answered with a small chuckle. Darcy gripped her pen, pressing down at the top and clicking it as fast as she could while following my gaze to Ms Flynn.

"Well yeah I guess so, I mean she is really pretty," I said accidentally a bit too loud.

At that moment Ms Flynn turned around and looked at Darcy and I,

"Are you girls going to continue to speak about pants and how well they fit, or are you girls going to actually write something?" She asked sarcastically.

My face heated up at the comment and immediately I looked down to avoid eye contact with her. She must have seen my awkward reaction. This was so embarrassing.

Thankfully, Darcy answered for us, apologising in a tone that sounded pretty genuine. Ms Fynn smiled, flashing her perfect teeth at us, and continued to write on the board.