Posted in Short Story Sunday, Writing

Short Story Sunday #44

BLACKBOARD

            It was my first day of college. I kept telling people that I wasn’t nervous, but I kind of was. I didn’t know any of the people in my class, I didn’t know how nice the professor was going to be, and I certainly didn’t know how tough the class was going to be, either. People always warn you that college is harder than high school. I wasn’t too sure if I was going to be prepared for the amount of homework I was most likely going to get. Plus, I was taking four classes. So I had to go through all this three more times before the day was over.

I sat down at a small wooden desk way in the back of the class. I was the last seat in the first row. I wanted to be in the back so that no one could see me. I didn’t want the professor calling on me for answers whether I had my hand raised or not. Yet, I still sat in the first row because I wanted to be as close to the door as possible just in case I needed to make a quick getaway. Depending on how the class goes today, I was sure that I was going to end up bolting it out of the room as soon as the class was over.

When I entered the classroom there were only a handful of students already in the room. The class didn’t start for another ten minutes. I wanted to be early so that I could get a feel for the place and also so that I was able to get the seat of my choice. I didn’t want all the good seats to be taken.

The professor entered the room about five minutes before class started and since then a few more students trickled into the room. When there were about 11 of us sitting in the room before the professor, he looked up at the clock and shrugged his shoulders.

“We’ll wait a couple more minutes for some more students to stroll on in and then we’ll get started.” He announced.

I nodded my head, but no one else seemed to pay any attention to what the professor said. A few people were texting under their desks; some were doodling in their notebooks. Some of them didn’t even have notebooks or pens or their textbooks. Why did they even bother to show up for class?

I watched the professor gather his things out of his briefcase. He placed a laptop on his desk, took out the textbook and a notebook. He opened the textbook to a certain page and then he opened his notebook. I could see the notebook was filled with scribbles and notes. Holding it in one hand, he took a piece of chalk in the other and began to write a few notes down on the blackboard.

I lifted an eyebrow. At this day and age the college still had blackboards with messy chalk? I was paying the school a lot of money to take these classes and they couldn’t afford to have the school buy brand new white boards? In fact, why were we using a blackboard—or a white board—at all? Most of the notes and lectures were online anyway. Why did we even have to bother coming to class in the first place? We should have been able to do the class online.

“Okay, let’s get started.” The professor stated as he looked up at the clock once more It was exactly eight o’clock which was when class was supposed to start. Only about three more students came into the classroom since then making fourteen of us all together. I had a feeling there were supposed to be more students in the class. It was one thing to come to class unprepared, but to come late on the first day? What was wrong with these people?

“I’m Professor Calvin Andrews… you can just call me Calvin. Or Professor Andrews. Or Professor Calvin, I guess. Whatever you’re most comfortable with.” Professor Andrews explained. At least he seemed to be laid back. That was a good sign.

“We’re not going to do too much today. We’re just going to get to know each other a little bit and learn a little about the class. Does everyone have their textbooks?”

I nodded my head, but I was the only one who responded. Looking around the room I noticed some kids had their textbooks on their desk, some were taking it out of their bags, and others… were still texting under their desks.

“There’s an introductory chapter in the textbook that explains the textbook and basically what this class is about. While I pass out the syllabus I want you all to read that chapter silently to yourselves.” He explained.

I skimmed the chapter, I’ll admit. Others seemed to skim it as well. Some were actually reading it and some opened the book to the correct pages, but were only pretending to read it. The students who didn’t have their books were still texting with nothing on their desks. Professor Andrews didn’t seem to notice… either that or he didn’t care.

The person in front of me passed the syllabus back to me. It was a rather thick packet. I thumbed through the pages and looked at it with disgust.

I looked up hearing the chalk scrap against the blackboard. Professor Andrews was writing something down on it about the homework we were going to have that night. I thought we were just going to get to know each other and what the class is about? I didn’t see any point in having homework on the first day of classes.

I sighed and opened my notebook. I began to copy everything down from the blackboard into my notebook. It was better to have everything written whether I needed to know it or not.

One class down, three to go.

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Author:

Born and raised in Massachusetts, Rachel Poli is a writer and blogger. She has an associate’s degree in Early Childhood Education and a bachelor’s degree in English Studies. She enjoys writing young adult novels, middle-grade, and children’s picture books. She is currently working on her first novel.

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