classmates

POV Lydia:

I glanced around to see if Jay was nearby, then walked in the door for neurology with the other brave souls willing to subject themselves to its torment. Class with Professor Friedrich Nietzsche, (or Mr. Nietz as we usually say), was always an odd combination. Usually, we would be dealing in the physical components of the lessons: memorizing parts of the brain, analyzing how nervous transmissions are sent and what factors can play into it, and especially the science's primary use of treating disorders in this field. Yet he would often go into tangents about philosophy too and assign homework concerning that. I didn't care much eather way, to me it was just another credit.

This tended to be one of my smallest classes, seeing as how many of those who had finished this course would either become brain surgeons, psychotherapists, or philosophers who'd linger on the streets. At this moment, though, all of us were caffeine-fueled, sweat-pant donning students who awaited their next trial that would determine their success in life.

The Professor was an unassuming sort of man. He was stern at times and had his fair share of complaints against him. His hair was slightly long, black with signs of aging at the roots, although grey it was still well-groomed. He was lean, but not scrawny or frail-looking, and he was definitely tall. From far away, he seemed relatively normal; just a man wearing some new variation of a suit each day. Although when I could actually see him, there was something in his bright green eyes that quelled a suppressed anger. For now, it only creeped me out. Probably normal for most professors. But still as he glanced along the length of the lecture hall and gradually set his eyes on me, I felt the unsettling feeling of being stocked by a predator. The ora he lets off when he enters a room makes us all cringe as in expectation of a slap in the face.

Several minutes passed in his lecture concerning neurological responses to certain methods of teaching, about thirty, give or take a few. Then he concluded it with an announcement.

"Alright, now you each are going to be working with something else to see how well you have a grasp on this course so far, and how well you can apply what you've learned," He said, switching to a different slide panel in the projector. On it was displayed a simple question that he read aloud to us, as well as a bulleted list of requirements.

"You will be completing a group project for forty percent of your grade for this quarter. The question that you will be answering is-"

At this moment, I quietly groaned, knowing this question would plague me relentlessly.

"What defines intelligence?" He stated, without noting how much this seemed like complete bogus. Typical. "What are the requirements for the assignment, you ask? You're going to examine how it affects different areas of the brain, such as emotion and what their strategies are, how messages transmit through their minds, and what this means to you. Once you have your information, you are to submit an essay from around eight to ten pages to me, then present the rest of your information to the class."

He checked his watch part way through this, then looked to his assistant who was working on other homework and grading previous assignments. I didn't really know the name of the girl who sat there, all I really knew was that she was a senior here and was almost jaw droppingly beautiful without a stitch of makeup, but she still seem a little young for the job. As if she had just gotten out of high school. She barely looked up as Professor Nietzsche continued.

"I'm going to allow you time now to get with people in your group. There can be no more than six people in one." Then he stood, almost like a proud military general with his feet planted firmly and far apart. His hands were placed behind his back as though a riding crop belonged in one hand. I gave a weird glance, then ignored it. I had more important things to worry about... this stupid project... that nightmare-

"Yo, Lydia!" Jay was already at my desk, vaulting over the one in front of it with one hand. "We're totally doing this project together, right?" He sent a small smirk that would have normally made me blush. But right now, it seemed far too similar to the one he had in the dream when he threatened me. My skin began to itch as he watched for my response with a confident glow in his always hungry eyes. I wanted to leave the room, run to the bathroom, the moon, anywhere. Any place besides bare inches from the man who literally haunts my dreams.

No, what was I even thinking?! He wouldn't do anything to hurt me. He wasn't the kind of person who'd do that. I knew him right... I still haven't responded to his question and with each passing moment his head tills farther to the side and the terrifying smirk fades.

"Well?" He offered a softer smile. "Come on, it'll at least be slightly more fun with you, Lydia. I wouldn't think of asking anyone else- "

I thought only for a little bit more. At this point, I realized that it would have looked suspicious in his eyes if I suddenly said no. If he really did want to hurt me, which was completely absurd, then now was not a good time to make him think that I was wary. Besides, if he wasn't, then it's best if I'm with Jay for this project.

"Of course!" I answered quickly, bringing myself to hurriedly smile back to him. His eyes lit up a bit, then he chuckled and got out a whole stack of paper.

"Good, because we need to plan this thing," He said out loud.

"And don't you think it'd be better if we plan this thing in secret?" He thought to me, doing what I would usually think of as the most adorable eyebrow wiggle when he did. "Make it all special, no one else trying' to steal our ideas."

I managed a small chuckle when he started to project the Mission: Impossible theme into my head.

"Alright, alright, sounds good." With a strained laugh, I continued. "God, what are we even gonna do for this?"

"No idea. We're dead."

"Yay. Well, let's at least get a structural idea." I started to create an outline, hoping to boil it down to the most basic principle of it. If it was ordered out with a nice structure like a simple algorithm, I could probably manage it. I could already see his mind going in a different tangent. "We need a method for ordering this, just like how you would want a lesson to be. Organize each part into different categories-"

"Do you think it could be possible to animate the part where we mention the nervous system? Then after a few seconds of watching sparks flow along little transmitter strings, then we have the words flow with them."

"Jay, now is not the time to think about the special effects!"

"Come on, you gotta admit it looks cool-"

"TAKE THIS SERIOUSLY, PLEASE-"

"God shut up, I can't even hear myself think?" Said a new voice and my heart fluttered at the sound.

My eyes widened, and the pencil fell from my hand. Oh god, not now. I looked down hesitantly at my hand were it layed on the table. As I watched it gradually began to twitch and my heart twitches in unison. As if joining in on a great symphony my brain began to pulse. The pain that followed had me gripping the bottom of the desk. I struggled to maintain a strait face as I watched Jay look around the room.

"Alright, who exactly are ya, pal?" Jay growled.

"The one in the hoodie. Look to your left. Ten o'clock."

We turned our heads, finding a guy leaning against a desk with slightly messy hair poking out from underneath his hood. He sent a small hand gesture to us to say "'sup". Not hello, just "'sup".