The Spring Semester [On Hold Indefinitely]

First day of the spring semester. Everyone's favorite day, right? Well, actually no. It's everyone's least favorite day. Today starts a new routine, endless papers, early morning, late nights... All that makes college students grow gray hairs prematurely. What is there to like?
I walk to my first class, French, running late. I suddenly regret the decision to take a 7am class. Why did I do this to myself?

"Tu es en retard." the professor says as soon as I walk in. She was mid 30s, strawberry blonde hair, with a lean body. She looked like one of those bitchy professors.
"Désolé je dormi trop longtemps." Hey, at least I was honest about my excuse. I did oversleep.
"La prochaine fois ne montrent pas. Classe a commencé. Assieds-toi." she motions to an empty seat right at the front and gives me the class syllabus.
Great.
"Pardon mademoiselle." I say before taking the worst seat ever and opening up the syllabus she handed me.

You see, this French class wasn't to learn French. I already knew some of that because of my semester abroad in France. This class was to learn about French history. My current major is psychology but I've always been a fan of the history of European countries and learning about cultures around the world. This semester I decided to do something different and take classes that will expose me to those elements. That's where this class comes in. I'm also taking Cultural Psychology, which I'm thrilled about. That class was more expensive than the rest, I'm not sure why, but I'm really excited about it.

The first day of this French class went by pretty slowly. We mostly went over the syllabus and did quick introductions of ourselves. I hated doing that because it was the same shit I had to say every class, every semester.

"My name is Daniella, I'm 23, born and raised in California, my major is psychology, blah blah blah blah blah. Shoot me."

Same shit.

Even though I knew we had to go over the syllabus and do the whole introduction thing, I was looking forward to Cultural Psychology. I sort of just knew this would be my favorite class. I can say that my first day there did not disappoint.

When I walked into the class, I realized that it is not being held in your typical university auditorium type room. It was a regular classroom, with about 25 seats. In the front was 2 large rectangular tables filled with food.

"Welcome, young ones!" the professor greets students as they enter and hands us the syllabus. He looked pretty rad in my opinion. He seemed to be about mid 40s but he rocked boots and a leather jacket like a real badass.

I make my way to the food table and notice that each food has a card with the name, a description, and it's origin. Everyone was helping themselves so I go ahead and grab a plate to fill. I was starving. I didn't have breakfast thanks to me rushing to get to class, going in late, then getting bitched at. Yes, I was still sour about it.

I make my way to a desk in the back of the class with my plate filled with yummy food in my hand. I was going to devour this while doing my favorite hobby. People watching. There was a certain satisfaction in people watching. I'm not sure how to describe it, but doing it gives me a feeling of being normal. It fascinates me what people do when they think no one is paying attention.

I quietly stuff my face as I look around the room getting to know my classmates. Well, at least just the physical aspect of them. There was an interesting mix of people in this class. We have a guy in a polo and khakis, the girl with the hijab, the guy in shorts and a Manchester United jersey...

More people start to come in as the time class is supposed to start approaches. I'm eating the last of my falafel, when my attention is drawn to the door. In walks this tall guy, brown curly hair down to his shoulders, in black skinny jeans ripped at the knees and a white button down with black Eiffel Towers all over it. I didn't know whether to laugh or drool. He looked like he got lost on his way to music class, but he looked rather hot.

I must have been staring a little too hard because his eyes dart to mine and I swear I started choking on my falafel. This is great, I've embarrassed myself on the first day of what's supposed to be my favorite class! I couldn't look back his way anymore, I felt mortified. Instead I took out my phone and decided to check Twitter. Maybe if I looked busy...

"Are you ok, dear?" a strong British accent asks me. Holy falafel balls, Mr. I-got-lost-on-my-way-to-music-class was sitting next to me and talking to me.
"Yes, I'm ok. Just a bit embarrassed." I feel my blood rush to my cheeks. Yes, why not finish embarrassing yourself by blushing at his presence. You go, Daniella.
"I'm Harry." he extends his right hand.
"Daniella." I state my own name and meet my hand to his in a shake.
Just like perfect timing to keep me from further embarrassing myself, the professor asks everyone to take a seat. Class was about to start.

"Good afternoon, students. Welcome to the best class you will take this semester. I am professor Charles Memphis, everyone can call me Charlie." Well, I'm liking this class more and more by the second. "I hope you enjoyed today's food and tried something you hadn't before. Today will be a pretty chill day, we will go over our syllabus and do some introductions. Yeah, I bet everyone is excited, I can see it in your faces." he laughs at his own jokes. How cute. "Now, I want you to lend your attention to the second page of the syllabus and look at the top. These are the required materials for this class." I was surprised to see that our second requirement was a passport. "Yes! You are seeing right. A passport is required for this class because we will be taking a class trip during spring break so don't make plans. A destination hasn't been chosen but we will do that today by choosing a paper from this jar." he holds up a glass mason jar filled with many strips of white paper. Oh, this will be interesting.

After going over his short syllabus, we start with the introductions. I was surprisingly looking forward to it, I wanted to know more about Mr. British. I went first than him and gave my same ol speech. I really only wanted it to be his turn already.

At last it's his turn and I'm all ears.
"The name's Harry Styles, I'm 23, originally from a little town in Cheshire, England. I'm not majoring in anything so far, I'm taking classes to better educate myself in culture, literature, and languages. The food was delicious by the way." His introduction was perfect. Must resist urge to search him on Twitter. Must. Resist.

Towards the end of the class, Charlie asked a random student to go and pick a paper from the jar. I was impatient to know where we'd be going. He picked the guy with the Man U jersey. I looked intently as he picked out a strip from the bottom of the jar and handed it to Charlie.

"Oh, this is a great choice! Class, we're going to Mexico City! Our neighboring country!" The whole class sounded exited about it. I hadn't been to Mexico City but my family were immigrants from Mexico. I was happy that I got to go, though. It was going to be incredible.

Notes

Let me know what ya'll think! I'm excited to write this story. If you couldn't tell yet, Harry isn't in One Direction in this story. Just a regular college student.

Comment, sub, vote please! :)