Deborah Westbrook's POV:
The 13th lecture hall at Stanford University had the distinct scent of ink and a faint but sharp hint of men's cologne. Around me, at least fifty-four med students were sitted, all bracing themselves for the ultimate "pre-med weed out"
Human Anatomy.
Adjusting my glass, I tried to get a good look at the projected image on the screen until my eyes burned. At just the age of eighteen, I was already under this much weight. It began with my first class which was the first brick in the fortress of my ten-year plan to success.
But if I wanted to be a top-tier cardiothoracic surgeon, I had to redeem myself—rebuilding some lost family legacy, starting with my grandfather's clinic that went under.
In order for me to achieve this great feat, I couldn't afford a single crack in my focus.
The class was quite exhausting leaving me with a head that throbbed non-stop from reviewing organic chemistry all night. Now this man added to the pain. In that moment, I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs just to let the world know that I was frustrated.
But staying silent was the best cause for me.
Then came the voice, calm and sweet.
"Excuse me, is this seat taken?"
I knew I heard a voice, but the class was already getting to me. I couldn't care less.
Then, the sudden hint of what I could only describe as cologne or what seemed like air freshener forced me to turn my head.
My eyes landed on him, an angel in the form of a male figure, handsome, tall to the point I had to tilt my head. One couldn't tell, but my heart had beaten so fast I felt like passing out. His eyes which was locked onto his books shifted to me.
I turned swiftly, hoping I could avoid any mishap. I struck my cheeks.
*Idiot! You're here to learn not catalogue handsome men*
I gripped my pen, trying to focus, scribbling at least something that could get my mind from him. Despite shifting, I was certain he had my eyes on me still.
In what felt like minutes on end, Professor Harry finally dismissed us, leaving us with a few words that I barely remember.
"Remember, your future lies on whatever path you follow," he said or some other motivational crap.
Finally, I stood to my feet, ready to end the day. I had spent hours on end in the lecture hall, some rest would do.
I needed to get to my dorm as soon as possible. I was sure my roommate Cathy would be awaiting my return.
'I just hope she wouldn't be doing any crazy thing' I said to myself inwardly.
Then something soft hit me, just at the elbow, shoving my things away.
"Oh, I'm so sorry!"
I heard a voice behind me, I turned. It was him again, that angelic male figure. Now, our eyes were fully locked for at least just a second, before he bent—grabbing my things.
I couldn't make out the things he said to me, only words like.
"Believe.... this.... yours"
Then, I snapped back to reality. I noticed that I had been staring and he had still been standing in front of me. From the look on his face, I could tell he was confused.
I took my bag back and watched him walk away, sinking into the crowd of med students.
I returned back to my locker, ready to put an end to the day. Standing there, I regretted every moment.
Why didn't I just talk to him? Maybe we could be friends?
No, now wasn't the time to dwell on it. I had to get back to my dorm. But I was fortunate once again.
It began with a tap on my shoulder. I could feel all the hairs on my neck instantly rise and fall, I turned and there he was once again.
Did he wish to talk to me? In my life I never felt like the pretty type? Was he interested?
He stretched a notebook to me—my notebook. "You forgot this," he said.
In that moment, it felt like the ground could open up and swallow me. Slowly realizing that I wasn't the one that could be approached by handsome boys, I took the book from his hand.
"Th-thank you"
In that moment, I thought my moment was gone. I wasn't the type to talk much in conversations, so there was nothing I could do, but he stopped.
What was he doing? Did he forget something?
I watched his lips as they parted, and words other than 'Thanks, Here you go and this is yours flew out'
I remembered every word he said, better than how I could catch Professor Harry's constant rambling.
"Hey," he began, his voice calm and sweet, "Sorry, I snooped into your notes. Your drawings are kinda cool, did you really draw those?"
My drawings? He took a little snoop in my note?
It was like my head was spinning when I heard him said those. A hot guy was interested in my work, I wasn't the best listener or speaker, but I had a talent for drawing diagrams.
I wanted to speak, but it felt like my voice was caught in my throat. When I finally found a reason to speak, it came out as,
"Oh... Ummm... Yeah.... I... I... I did"
As I tried to speak, I could catch him nodding, possibly trying to understand what I was trying to say.
"Cool," he replied, stepping closer to me, he stretched his hand forward, "I'm Terry... Terry Cassius... I'm new"
For a second, I looked deeply into his eyes, then I shifted my gaze to his outstretched hand, taking it firmly.
I called out my name, struggling too with introducing myself.
"Deborah Westbrook..."
"Deborah.... What a nice name?" he replied.
Just from that mere use of words, I felt a tingling sensation between my legs. In my thoughts. I played out a whole session of both of us engaging in the most roughest sex.
I was always curious about sexual intercourse in the past. Though I successfully denied it, Terry Cassius brought that sensation back.
"Well, I hope I don't waste much of your time," he added, before turning to leave.
In that moment, I knew it couldn't be over. I needed to say something—if I wanted to keep this new found relationship.
I began, my words hesitant, but at least I managed to force them out of my mouth.
"Hey! My drawings are really cool, like you said, right?"
Terry nodded, "Ummm... Yeah," he said with a smile.
Now wasn't chance. I could speak out.
"Well... Since you're new and all... I could... You know.... Teach you some drawings, if you want!"
In my thoughts, I was like 'Fuck? You messed up everything now!'
Terry tilted his head, from the look on his eyes he seemed confused, "Is that... A date?" he asked.
"No!" I said with the most swiftest nod.
Yes? Yes it definitely was a date, a chance to know a male figure. I had come into Standford two weeks ago and during my stay I had only been able to make one friend.
Catherine Kennedy, my only roommate. A redhead with a knack for crazy things.
"Well," Terry began, "I'll see you tommorow, maybe after class"