Seeing as he was the only one in the classroom, Aleksandr closed his eyes and let his forehead silently thud against the desktop in front of him.  He drew in several breaths, feeling a bit of nervousness begin to bubble inside of him.  He had not touched school for a whole two years, and today seemed to be the start of a new adventure of his life.  He was not really feeling up for another adventure.  He was not much of an adventurous human being.  

His ears perked when the door opened.  He could smell her keenly as she walked through the entrance of the classroom. His eyes immediately shot open at the first whiff.  Every once in a while his sense were keener than normal, and it would startle him.  He did not have much of an explanation, but at this very moment he was dead set on blaming his nervousness.  She smelt florally, and it was nice.  He choked down a smile, keeping his usual stoic face.

The door opened, again.  Footsteps walked over towards the window and stopped. A loud sigh was heard.

The door opened a third time but stayed open this time.  A crowd of students started piling into the classroom and filling the remaining empty desks. Aleksandr picked his head from the desk and slouched back in his seat, watching carefully as all the each student took his or her place.  They were all like pawns, just picking their places on the chess board. [i]Where's the Queen?[/i] Aleksandr wondered in his head. His eyes watched the door.  [i]The professor should be here any minute.[/i]  He ran a hand through his wavy curls in anticipation, and dropping his hand back into his lap.

There was a incoherent chatter drifting through the room in small waves.  Aleksandr had always felt a little odd when this phenomenon would happen because he usually had no one to talk to.  It also did not help with his father being a priest.  There was always something so strange about admitting his father to be a widower priest.  His sense kicked in, again when the suddenly swung open.  He straightened his back, trying to contain the noise that pierced through his ears.  He looked around.  No one else seemed to be phased by the noise.  It was as if he was the only person that had heard it. A small hint of anger took over his nervousness.  [i]There's the Queen.[/i] His eyes narrowed slightly, realizing he needed to get a notebook of sorts out of his messenger bag. He bent over to remove a pad of white paper from his bag.  He placed the pad of paper on his desk and stuck his arm back into his messenger bag, fishing for a pencil.

The professor had pepper hair. He seemed youngish, except his hair gave away his age (along with his crows feet, which were hiding under his tortoiseshell framed glasses). A pesky smile was perked on his lips as he took long, lean steps towards the Professor's desk.  He set his brown, leather briefcase on the desk.  He did not say anything for a while as he unpacked.  He ran a hand over his nicely slicked back hair and readjusted his glasses on his face.  His smile was still as perky as when he first entered.

"Hello, everyone," he stood quietly.  There was something very quiet about his demeanor that annoyed Aleksandr.

The silence lasted for several, long seconds.

"I said, 'Hello, everyone,'" his smile widened.  Several students responded with greetings. Aleksandr remained silent, glancing around to see if everyone was participating in the professor's introductory dance.

"Hmm," he said dissatisfied with the amount of students who responded, "For such a large class, I would have expected a more wholesome response."  He looked down at the desk in front of him, and unlocked his briefcase.  He pulled out a black binder and opened it, "This is Western Civilization I.  I am Dr. Ethan Jones, but you may simply call me Dr. Jones," he paused, looking up from his desk and smiled at the class, "I am passing the roll sheet around, if you could please initial by your name so I know you are present," he opened the black binder and pulled out two pieces of stapled paper and walked it to the desk closest to his right, "Just find your name, initial, and pass it along," he said quietly to one student.  He winked at the student and walked back to the center of the classroom, "This is a core class, and I know most of you are Freshman and Sophomores.  Unforunately, Darcy University has a tradition of weeding out students that do not quite meet the academic criteria.  I do not hand out A's. I rarely hand out B's, and I do not give 'Gentleman C's,'" he looked around the class through his spectacles.  There was something diabolical about him.

Aleksandr felt twitchy.  Not only could he smell [i]that[/i] woman, but every move the professor made was some sound of inappropriate proportion.  He clenched his jaw, quietly grinding his teeth back-and-forth, trying to keep his composure.

"Don't worry, I am on your side," Dr. Jones continued.  His pinched smile grew to his rosy cheeks, "I have pre-selected groups in which you will work, because I understand the importance of networking in college.  Each group will be giving a presentation at the end of the semester.  I think starting on the project early is better than starting on it later in the semester.  Doing the latter will only make you frustrated, and remember, the presentation will be worth 25% of your grade. Might I also add that you should exchange numbers, e-mails, and socials with each other.  You never know from who your next job shall come," Dr. Jones rubbed his palms together as he spoke.  He flipped through several papers in his black binder and held the paper up, "I have your groups assigned and named.  The project will be over a famous historical figure we shall be going over in this class.  I have a list," he held up his other hand which was holding another piece of paper, "of historical figures your group may choose.  The groups are to read at least one work by the historical persons the group has chosen. I expect PowerPoints, handouts, and twenty minutes minimum per presentation.  You also must have at least five sources, [i]not[/i] from the internet.  One will be the primary source.  See? I am on [i]your[/i] side," his smile grew back to touching his cheeks. He pulled out scotch tape from his brief case and taped the papers on the large, white-wall dry erase board.  A student stood up and handed him the sign-in sheet. "Class is dismissed."  With that, Dr. Jones put the sign in sheet in the pouch of his black binder, slid his binder back into his briefcase, and buckled his briefcase. Swinging the briefcase as he took long, lean steps out of the classroom, the professor quickly disappeared from the students' presence.

Aleksandr sat like a deer in headlights, his eyes were glazed.  As students began to leave their seats, he slowly started packing his things.  He placed his notepad back into his messenger bag.  He never did find a pencil, so there was [i]that[/i] positive aspect of the lecture.  He stood up, slinging his messenger bag over his body.  If the class was going to be that aggravating, he may actually kill the professor.  The thought lingered in his mind for several seconds too long. A student pushed past him and jolted him from the sadistic thought.  He walked to the front of the classroom but there was already a crowd of students gathered around the Group Sheet. [i]I feel like I'm in a herd of sheep.[/i]  Unexpectantly, the fact that he had not had breakfast caught up with his psyche.  A pain in his stomach pained him. [i]I hate life[/i]. [@Arista]