Page 27 of Storm
Damn! Is it too late to run...For the whole year?
7-Miss Latecomer
Aariz
Getting out of my car, I moved my gaze around the campus. Storm was coming, the rains were heavier now, and still the students were chilling around, rushing everywhere giving the campus a lively feel.
Although I had been here just a day before, I was enamoured yet again by the creative architecture. Especially the stone structure that held classes for Mass, Media and Communication had me spellbound.
I reached the corridor where the classroom for final year Political Journalism was located. It was my first day and I didn’t want to be late. I was just about to go towards the classroom, when a woman Professor stopped me for a chat. She said, since we were both teaching Mass Media students, although mine were from Journalism course, and her’s from Advertising, yet this made us not just colleagues, but obvious friends too. Therefore, we need to spend more time together, so we could have each other’s back in face of the cruel staff of Hill Stone University. Be each other’s confidantes and what not.
That was when a girl rushed passed me, entering the classroom I was about to go in. A latecomer who could now pretend she was not late since I had not entered the class yet. I was unable to see her face as she stormed so fast like a wind. But, looking at her disappearing figure, I felt like I know this girl. I just needed to see her face to confirm.
I stood chatting with Prof Miss Gracie, near the classroom window. Thus, having a clear view of what was happening inside. Because anyway, I had absolutely no interest in being updated with the staff politics. This was better, as I was restlessly intrigued about the girl I had a strong feeling, I had met before.
The girl moved towards the first desk in the centre row, draped her rain jacket on the chair and was about to put her bag down, when another girl came excitedly from behind her, literally shouting in glee.
I supposed they were friends.
Turning around to face her, my Latecomer groaned loudly. But, I could not see her face, due to her friend blocking my view.
Complaining about early morning hour and unable to finish her sleep, my Latecomer presumed the lecture was cancelled, without letting her friend complete. I could not help but chuckle at that, making Prof Gracie stare at me in confusion. Therefore, I tried to focus on her, but could not help eavesdropping on the Latecomer's conversation with her friend.
What could I do? It was interesting and they were so loud. It was not as if I was trying to hear them.
Her friend asked her to guess something, while Miss Latecomer blew air over her friend's burning excitement, not feeling the buzz at all. She responded in obvious tones that Prof Philip would take their lecture, as the so-called new guy, in her words- ‘Mr Whatever-his name-is’ had not shown his face yet.
Mr Whatever is the name she has chosen for me. Nice.
Their chatter went on and another girl joined them announcing, Mr Whatever might just show up today.
I sure will.
I could not stop myself from carefully witnessing the exchange that followed next. Looked like my Miss. Latecomer had a sarcastic bone in her, as she walked forward, dramatically clearing her thro
at, and said louder than ever,
‘Oh I was assigned to teach you guys this year. I got a litttttle late. I was stuck somewhere. Sorry!’ she tried to imitate a manly voice, while at the same time trying to sound innocent.
Well one thing I have understood Miss Latecomer, it is that you are anything but innocent.
Why does your voice sound so familiar? Just turn around already!
If she would have just turned a little from the hurdle of her friends, I would have been able to see her face. She was making me restless with anticipation.
All three girls shared a good laugh.
A few minutes later, Prof Gracie finally decided to leave me alone having had a lot of fun on my acute embarrassment, as we had heard the tid bits of their conversation.
I passed by the row of students and reached to the front of class.
Stepping on the teacher’s podium, it clicked to me, that Miss Latecomer had kept her bag and jacket on the first seat of centre row, which was right in front of me.
I still could not have a glimpse of her, as for some unknown reason she had kept her face hidden behind an open textbook.
How much would she make me wait to see her face and reveal the mystery of whether I really have seen her before, as I think I have?
Giving up, I sat on the desk instead of the chair, mimicking her previous posture.
