Sweet Home Page 4

She sputtered a laugh. “How old are you, honey?”

“Erm… twenty.” I nervously looked around the room, seeing lots of wide eyes focused on me.

“Twenty! And you’re already on your master’s?”

“Well, yes. I went to university a year young. I tested out of high school early.”

“Damn, girl, you need to stop bein’ so damn serious and learn to live a little. Life’s not all about studying; it’s about having fun. Lighten the hell up!” She shook her head in bewilderment, her long hair bouncing perfectly with the movement. “I swear I’ll never understand girls like you.”

Several students shuffled uncomfortably in their seats at her candid comments. The redhead seemed pleased with herself. I’m sure in her opinion, her second attempt at tearing me down had worked.

“Girls like me?” I queried, only a slight edge to my voice.

A set of expensive-looking pearly white veneers almost blinded me as she smiled bitchily. “Bookworms, nerds… wannabe professors!”

I narrowed my eyes in response, trying to maintain a professional attitude, gripping the wood of the lectern at her shitty tone, and swiftly decided to screw professionalism. I was going to fight back. I’d had a crap day so far—tonight would be worse—so I decided to fully commit to having the ultimate day from hell.

“Studying and knowledge, I believe, gives a person power, not money or status or what designer you wear,” I said coolly.

“Really? You actually believe that?”

“Of course I do. Opening your mind to unknown possibilities and learning how other cultures function, what they believe, gives people a richer, more holistic understanding of the human condition. Philosophy offers answers to an array of questions.

“For example, why do some people coast through life with ease, devoid of all compassion for others? Whilst others—good, caring, and honest humans—are dealt blow after blow but somehow find the inner strength to carry on? Don’t you think if more people took the time to be conscientious to mankind’s troubles, then maybe the world would be a better place?”

The girl flicked her hair nervously, no answer to my question, her ruby-red lips tightening as she stared at me in annoyance.

“That is why I study over getting drunk every night. The world deserves to have people who think of others before themselves, that strive to be less selfish and superficially concerned.” I glared at her and announced in a pseudo-friendly voice, “I hope that offers you some insight to why I want to be a professor. It’s who I am and I’m very proud of that fact.”

“Fuck! That told you, Shelly! Schooled!” a gruff male voice muttered, causing the rest of the class to break the heavy silence with laughter. My head whipped up when I realised it came from Rome slouched low in his seat, feet up, and currently laughing to himself, the rest of the class joining in. A deep sense of satisfaction settled in my stomach.

Shelly’s mouth gaped and she abruptly ended the conversation with a dismissive, “Whatever! Good luck fitting in ‘round here acting like that!”

Professor Ross tapped me on the shoulder and whispered in my ear to quickly hand out the course syllabus before the class finished. I could tell she was pissed off at my behaviour.

I swiftly grabbed the papers off the oak desk and began handing each one out along the rows of students as the professor explained how she would grade papers and the rules and standards of her classes.

I’d made it to the final row of seats and immediately saw Rome staring right at me, an unexplainable glimmer in his eyes. He dipped his head in greeting with a hard line to his mouth. I gave a quick flash of a smile.

Shelly edged closer to him, never taking her eyes off mine. Judging by the positioning of her body—legs bent, touching his, her ample chest brushing against his arm—she and Rome were obviously very friendly.

I moved to hand the last sheet out to Shelly when she trilled, “Nice shoes, Molly. Do all future philosophy professors have such fantastic taste in fashion?” Students snickered at my expense.

I glimpsed down at my budget-friendly Crocs, viewed her fancy gold—no doubt expensive—gladiator sandals, and sighed sadly through my nose.

Rome instantly pushed her leg away from his thigh and spat, “Quit it, Shel. Why d’you have to be such a f**kin’ bitch all the time?” His remark also effectively silenced the rest of the room, the take-no-shit attitude causing the class to turn away from my awkwardness and cower in their seats to avoid his unwanted attention.

Shelly folded her arms and slumped in a sulk.

Rome ignored her petty attitude and lifted his eyes back to me, flicking his chin. “You really believe what you said just now?”

“Which part?”

He shifted awkwardly on his chair, his fingers combing roughly through his messy blond hair. “‘Bout life bein’ unfair. ‘Bout philosophy givin’ answers to why some people get dealt shit and others don’t.”

“Vehemently,” I replied with unwavering certainty.

He nodded slowly, upturning his bottom lip, seeming almost impressed.

I swung away with urgency in my step and dropped into the seat behind the TA’s desk at the side of the room. I kept my head low while the class was dismissed.

“Molly.”

I lifted my head to find the professor standing before me, censure on her wrinkled face. “Care to explain what happened just now? It was so out of character.”

“Suzy—”

“Erm, Professor Ross in class, Molly. What’s come over you?”

Grimacing, I said, “Sorry. My head is all over the place at the moment.”

“You haven’t answered my question.”

As I met her stern stare, I could see not only disappointment at my lack of professionalism in her aged eyes, but also a flicker of worry.

I sighed. “Just a bad day. Nothing more. It won’t happen again.”

Suzy dropped her arms, her reprimand of my behaviour forgotten. “Don’t let people like that young lady affect you. Never make excuses for who you are.”

A smile spread on my face. “Thank you, professor. Lesson learned. She just… I don’t know… got to me for some reason.”

“I could see that. But next time, block her out. Just ignore it.”

I nodded in agreement.

“Now, why don’t you get yourself home?”

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