Chapter 2: Professor Smith

It was early in the morning when Clara woke. The clock showed six o'clock, but Clara felt like it was much much earlier. "Really? Only six? Ughhhh!" Clara groaned as she rolled out of bed.

"Shhh! Still sleeping here." Amy whined. She was always grumpy in the morning.

Clara got dressed in silence. In the end she wound up wearing light blue skinny jeans and a long, XXL knit green sweater. Clara liked how comfy it was on her. Looking down at her outfit, she shrugged. 'This is as good as its gonna get.' She thought to herself. Before heading out the door, she slipped on a pair of white converse and grabbed her large black book bag.

Clara jogged down the sidewalk hurriedly. Her watch said 6:58 and her first class of the day was at 7:00. Luckily, it was only the next building over from her dormitory. Clara ran inside the building and ran up two flights of stairs before bursting into the classroom. "I'm here!" Clara shouted before the professor had the chance to count you tardy.

"Good to know, Miss. It's only 6:30. You're early." The professor said dryly without looking at her.

"My watch says that it's 7:09, though..." Clara said with her face bright red and looking down at her watch.

"Well, your watch is wrong." The professor finally looked up at her and his eyebrows lifted in curiosity.

"Oh, uh, sorry then." Clara pushed back a piece of her hair behind her ear and then looked at him. It was the grey-haired man. He had piecing sharp eyes and his short hair was silver. "And your name is?"

"John Smith, but you will call me Professor or Professor Smith." He held up his head regally. Clara was almost positive that he was trying to hold back a smile. "Since you are early, you may stay, but only this once. Sit anywhere." John gestured about the room, unconcerned.

Clara nodded and sat down in a chair near the back of the class. "My names Clara Oswald, by the way." she smiled.

"Good to know." He replied plainly, resulting in Clara frowning.

After about fifteen minutes, students began to pour into the classroom, early. Not as early as Clara, but still early. When the clock struck 7:00 the professor stood up from his chair and walked to the white board and wrote in plain black lettering 'Professor John Smith' then turned to the class. "Hello, class. My name is Professor John Smith. Address me as Professor or Professor Smith, nothing more, nothing less. Understood?" The class nodded subconsciously. "Alrighty then, I am passing out your agreement forums. You will sign these by class tomorrow and turn them in by two o'clock." Professor Smith passed a stack of papers to front of the class and had them be passed back. Everyone got a paper except for Clara. "Profes--" she begun.

"Do not talk without raising your hand, Miss Oswald." He interrupted without even a glance. Clara raised her hand with a frustrated huff. "Yes, Miss Oswald?"

"I didn't get a paper, Professor." She replied.

"Then take your feet--you have those right?--walk up here, and get one off the table." He said rudely.

Clara pouted as the class begun to laugh at her embarrassment. "Fine." She stood up and walked towards the front of the class.

"Don't get up during class, Miss Oswald. Sit."

She looked at him with a distraught face, "Then how can I get a paper?"

"Wait until the end of class, use common sense." He rolled his eyes and smirked. Again with the laughter. Clara sat back down angrily and put her head on her desk. "No sleeping during class." Even more laughter.

Clara held up her head with a scowl and stayed quiet the rest of class.

--

By the time class ended, Clara's anger had subsided and she was simply exhausted. Professor Smith finally let them go at 9:00. "And bring those papers back tomorrow." He said before turning back to his desk and sitting down.

Clara stood and walked up to the front of the class to--finally--get an agreement forum. She glanced over it a bit before stuffing it into her messenger bag. "Have a good day, Professor." she called back to him.

He pursed his lips and held back a smile. "You too, Miss Oswald."

Clara smiled when she heard that. By the time she walked back to her dorm, she was starving. "Hey, Amy, wanna go get breakfast at the café?" Clara said to her roommate, who was still sleeping. Lucky for little miss Amelia, she didn't have her first class until 11:00.

Amy tossed in her bed and looked up at Clara sleepily. "Uh, sure. Just a minute." Amy got out of bed and headed out the door to the bathroom with toothbrush/toothpaste, a brush and mascara. Ten minutes later, Amy returned with her teeth brushed, her hair brush and mascara applied. "Ok, let's go." Amy wore baggy Victoria Secret sweat pants and a black tank top, which she covered with a red Aeropostale jacket. She slipped on a pair of blue slippers and headed out the door, wallet in hand. Clara followed her.

"So how was your first Advanced English class?" Amy asked as they walked down the sidewalk.

"Rubbish, the professor picked on me the whole time for no reason."

Amy pouted, "Whose the professor?"

"John Smith." Clara replied dryly.

"Oh, that's why it was rubbish. He is a complete jerk to everyone. My friend, Rose, had him her first year."

Amy walked down the sidewalk, not noticing all the boys looking at her. Clara rolled her eyes. She never got looks like that. Guys weren't distracted with her looks. She had accepted the fact that guys will never see her as this beautiful thing.

Once they reached the café, Clara and Amy sat in a cozy corner booth. Soft jazz music was playing and the air inside was warm, but not too warm. Everything about the café reminded of what a café would look like if it was run by her deceased grandmother. Comfy and inviting.

Clara ordered a plate of scrambled eggs with salt, pepper and American cheese while Amy ordered a stack of buttermilk pancakes topped with butter and maple syrup. The food arrived quickly since they were the only ones in the café except for two bearded guys on their laptops and a lone red-headed, gauged girl with tattoos all over her body looking through her iPhone (probably posting to Instagram).

"Yumm!" Amy exclaims as she shoves a pile of syrupy pancakes in her mouth and drinks a little of the milk she ordered.

"Let me guess, it's good?" Clara asks teasingly while stabbing pieces of cooked egg onto her fork and munching on it.

"Shuddup." Amy laughs and piles more food in her mouth.