Awakening (Covenant College #1) (6 page)

“Fine,” I agreed.

There was an uncomfortable silence. Will finally
broke
it. “I’ll come over and meet your roommates tomorrow.”

“Thank you.”

After disconnecting I couldn’t help but wonder if this wasn’t going to be as great of an arrangement as I had originally thought.

Six

The first day of classes came quick – seemingly too quick, for a slacker like me, anyway.

Technically, I’m not a slacker. I am academically lazy, though. Things have just always come easy for me when it comes to school (math notwithstanding). I have a borderline photographic memory – which has been a godsend when it comes to schoolwork. Also, I can write faster than most people can read – so that’s also been a benefit. The problem is
,
the ease in which I’ve approached school has made me indifferent when it comes to pursuing higher education.

College was going to be different, I promised myself. I was not only going to embrace an academic environment, I was going to pursue it.

I’m not sure I totally believe it either – but it is a righteous goal.

My first class didn’t start until 10 a.m., so Paris and I both got up early and got ready.
Brittany
’s first class had been at 8 a.m. She’d actually been excited about it. I thought that all classes should have been offered after noon. I didn’t get to decide these things, though.

I wasn’t sure what time Tara’s first class was but she was gone before Paris and I even got out of bed. Since we still had half an hour before we had to leave, we decided to stuff ourselves with a quick breakfast. I doubted that would be a normal thing – but I figured we might as well take advantage of being up while we could.

After eating some eggs and hash-browns – I noted with disgust that Paris drowned her breakfast in ketchup – we headed off for our first day of academic success.

“Are you nervous?”

Paris and I were going to the same building – even if we didn’t have a class together until later in the afternoon. She was starting off her day with English 101 just like I was – she just had a different professor. After that we had astronomy together and then I finished the day with Journalism 101.

“No, are you nervous?” I actually wasn’t nervous. I think it was fair to say I was cautiously optimistic.

“Not really. I just don’t know what to expect.”

“Me either,” I admitted. “In high school it was easy. I don’t think this is going to be as easy.”

“I don’t think you’ll have too much trouble,” she said.

“I hope not.”

We walked in companionable silence for a few minutes. I could tell something was on her mind. “How’s Mike?”

“He’s fine.”

“How’s Will?”

He’s an asshole, I thought. “He’s fine.”

We lapsed into silence again.

“Aren’t you glad we both have boyfriends so we don’t have to go through this whole mating ritual of looking for someone, like
Brittany
?”

“Totally.”

“Totally,” Paris echoed.

I wondered if my reply sounded as hollow as hers did.

“
Aric
seemed nice.” I thought that was a little pointed.

“I don’t know about nice.”

“He seemed hot.”

“He’s definitely hot.”

Paris giggled and I couldn’t help but join in. “I just don’t think he’s nice.”

“You don’t know him.”

“No,” I conceded.

“Do you want to know him?”

“No!” I felt like I’d answered that a little too quickly. Maybe she hadn’t noticed.

“I’d want to know him.”

“You seem like you want to know Mark.” There it was. I’d said it out loud.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean you seem interested in Mark.”

“He’s nice. He’s just fun to hang out with.” Paris was getting defensive.

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

“He’s cute, though.”

“He’s totally cute,” she agreed.

The Covenant College campus isn’t big – which is a plus. It’s not tiny like a community college or anything, but it’s not so big that you can’t walk to class either.

The building Paris and I were going to was located close to our dorm and nearly adjacent to the UC. Luckily for me, the bulk of my classes were located in this building. Since I was a journalism major – or at least thought I would stay one – most of my classes would remain in this building. Once Paris started getting into the core of her curriculum, though, she would have to walk to a building on the far edge of campus.

Once we got into
Leeland
Hall we both found ourselves checking our class schedules. My class was on the second floor and hers was on the first. We said our goodbyes at the stairwell.

“See you in an hour for astronomy,” she said brightly.

I smiled and waved to her as I climbed up the flight of stairs.

When I got the class, I was surprised it was so small. It was certainly bigger than my high school classes had been – but it was also small enough to be considered cozy.

The rest of the class filed in before the professor – a dazed looking woman who declared all modern literature dead – made her first appearance. Even though I found the teacher scattered the class looked easy. I only had to read five books for the semester and write five papers. That wouldn’t be hard at all.

After class I traipsed back down to a lecture hall for my astronomy class. Paris had gotten
there
first and saved me a seat. This was what I always pictured college to be like -- a big auditorium with hundreds of kids milling about and forming cliques. I was actually surprised that so many kids wanted to take astronomy – but then again they were probably like Paris and me. They just didn’t want to dissect anything.

The class went by pretty quickly. The actual lecture didn’t seem like it was going to be hard. The lab portion, though, was probably going to be a pain. We were going to have to go up on top of the science building – no matter how cold it was – to draw star maps. Paris didn’t seem deterred – but she was an art major. That didn’t sound fun to me at all.

After class I bid Paris goodbye and walked to the far end of the building where my Journalism 101 class was going to be held.

When I entered I was relieved to find myself in another small class environment.

The class was pretty full, but I slid into a desk next to a pretty girl that looked like she had some Italian heritage to go along with her darker skin and full mane of wavy brown hair. I smiled at her as I sat.

“I’m Matilda,” she said immediately. I was glad to see that she didn’t try to shake my hand.

“Zoe,” I replied.

“Is journalism your major?”

I considered her question seriously. “It is right now.”

“Yeah, I’m not all that sure either,” she said.

Matilda and I exchanged mindless chatter for a few minutes. I found out she lived one floor above me in the dorms – oh, and she was obsessed with one of the Ricks. I wasn’t sure which one, but if I had to guess I figured it was the hot one, aka Rick No. 1.

“Do you know him?”

“We’ve met.”

“Do you like him?”

“He seems fine. I haven’t had a chance to talk to him all that much.”

“Well, now I have a reason to be down on your floor.”

I must have looked confused.

“We have class together. We can study together.”

I’d always considered studying to be a solo endeavor, but I let it slide. I figured this was just some mindless infatuation that she’d get over – or maybe I just hoped.

I noticed the class had gone silent and I turned my attention to the front of the room. I wasn’t sure what I expected, but this wasn’t it. The guy that had taken his place up at the podium looked young – not student young -- but like 40 young. Instead of a suit – like I’d seen other professors in the hallway clad in – he was wearing blue jeans and a rock T-shirt. Sure, it was a Strokes T-shirt, but he could have been wearing a
Nickelback
shirt or something and really thrown my day off.

“I’m Sam Blake,” he introduced himself, flashing his bright blue eyes around the room. I couldn’t help but think he was awfully hot for a professor. “You can call me Sam or Mr. Blake. You can also call me professor, but I sometimes forget I’m a professor so I might not answer you.”

I heard a few giggles behind me and turned to see a group of four girls flashing him big smiles. What a bunch of whores. Whoa, where did that come from?

Sam continued to prove that he wasn’t a normal teacher. Instead of pulling out a syllabus he went around the room and had all of us stand up to introduce ourselves.

When it got to be my turn, I was a little nervous but I didn’t see any harm in the endeavor. “I’m Zoe.”

“What’s your last name Zoe?”

“Lake.”

“Where are you from Zoe?”

“Uh, a small town about an hour away from Traverse City.”

Sam Blake’s eyes narrowed slightly as he looked at me. “What town is that?”

“Why does it matter?” I challenged. I don’t know why it was such a big deal, but I wasn’t keen on divulging my hometown.

“I guess it doesn’t,” Sam said. “I was just curious why it was such a secret?”

“I didn’t say it was a secret.”

“So which town is it?”

“Barker Creek.”

Sam raised his eyebrows in surprise. “See, was that so hard?”

I fought to hide my distaste from him.

“That’s a pretty area.”

That surprised me. Most people had never even heard of Barker Creek, let alone been there.

“It’s okay.”

“Good skiing.”

Well, that made more sense. He had been to the nearby resort. “Yes.”

“Do you ski?” Now I was on edge. He hadn’t asked anyone else this many questions.

“Yes.”

“You golf?”

“No.” The resort was a golf course in the summer.

“There’s a lot of legend that surrounds that area.”

Now I was really confused. “What legend?”

“Just legends.”

“What legends? You mean the Dog Man?”

Sam actually smiled to himself this time. “Yes, the Dog Man.”

“What’s the Dog Man?” I wasn’t sure who asked the question but it was someone sitting behind me.

“It’s nothing,” I muttered.

“No, Zoe, tell the class about the Dog Man. It might make a good lesson.”

“The Dog Man is Bigfoot.” My answer was terse, so terse that Sam gave me a pointed frown.

“Bigfoot?
That’s ridiculous.”
Another voice from the crowd.

Sam was still giving me “the look.” I sighed resignedly. “It’s not really Bigfoot. I mean it is, but it’s not. There are all these stories up there about seven-foot tall dog men attacking people.”

I turned and looked and saw that half the class was trying to hide their smirks and the other half seemed mesmerized.

“Weren’t most of the attacks around the turn of the century?”
Sam again.

“Actually, the legend has it that there’s an attack every seven years.” I noticed that Sam seemed to nod ever-so-slightly when I gave my answer.

I was starting to feel uncomfortable. “It’s just a legend they tell to mess with tourists. They even have a song up there that they play called The Legend that’s about the Dog Man. I have it on my iPod,” I offered lamely.

I could hear a few snickers now.

“Have you ever seen a Dog Man?” Matilda had been one of the students enthralled with the conversation. She had asked the question with absolutely no guile.

“No.”

“That’s too bad.”

Sam was looking at me funny. It was almost like he was going to challenge me. He must have decided better.

“So, class, how does this tie into journalism?”

I was relieved to be able to take my seat and listen to the class expound on the virtues of oral legend vs. gossip -- but something about Sam Blake wasn’t sitting right with me.

“This whole place is weird,” I muttered under my breath.

“What did you say?” Matilda was looking at me quizzically.

“Nothing.”

As I met Sam Blake’s cool blue gaze again, I had a weird feeling that nothing was going to turn into something – and soon.

Seven

I wanted to leave class quickly – mostly because I was unnerved by Sam Blake’s insistent questioning. Matilda wasn’t about to let that happen, though. She wouldn’t stop her inane chatter and the next thing I knew we were walking out of the class together. At least Sam hadn’t tried to talk to me again. I did notice him watching me leave, though.