It's Not Like I Like You!

Chapter 1

"Ms. Pastor?" The secretary called Yasmin's name from her desk, as she continued typing on her computer. Yasmin stood up and grabbed her bag from the floor and made her way over to the secretary's desk. "You can go in now. Mr. Brown is going to explain everything to you." Yasmin nodded at the elderly woman's words and tried to process the information. Her English wasn't the best and the woman was talking a little too fast for her liking. 

Once her mind caught up, she walked over to Mr. Brown's office and knocked softly, a loud voice calling for her to come in. The young woman stepped into the office and closed the door behind her, sitting herself down in front of the man's desk and crossing her legs. 

"Yasmin Pastor. Correct?" The man asked, fixing the square glasses on his nose. The girl nodded and stared at the man with a blank expression painted on her face. The man sitting on the opposite side of the desk was a middle-aged, short man. His hair was dark with several strands of grey hairs sticking up from his, otherwise gelled back, hair. He was well kempt and formal, wearing a suit and tie with a pair of square spectacles to match, placed on the bridge of his nose. 

"Welcome to Maple Ridge University. We are all very glad to have a bright, young person like yourself studying here. My name is Mr. Brown. I am the headmaster here and I will be in charge of enrolling you into your chosen course. Your accommodation has been paid for by the school and you will receive funding." Mr. Brown spoke in a formal tone. His hands were folded over on top of his desk and, unlike the secretary, he spoke clearly and slowly. The man was obviously aware of Yasmin's English skills, or lack thereof, and made sure to enunciate all his words properly. 

Yasmin nodded slowly and looked down to her knees, suddenly feeling nervous with the whole ordeal. In her home back in Spain, there weren't any Universities that would accept her application and she was forced to emigrate if she truly wanted the education she had dreamed of for so long. Her whole family was still back in Spain and, due to the time difference, it was difficult to talk on the phone. 

"Alright. You chose to do Photography with French. Correct?" Mr. Brown looked at the young woman in front of him from under his glasses as he glanced at the form in front of him. Yasmin cleared her throat. 

"Y-Yes. Photography and French." She replied quietly, her English broken and her Spanish accent clear. Mr. Brown nodded at the answer and ticked one of the boxes on the piece of paper in front of him. 

"Good. Do you have your own set of equipment?" He questioned further. Yasmin looked at the man with confusion written all over her face. She didn't understand the question and silence filled the room for a minute or so. Mr. Brown looked up from the paper and pursed his lips. "My apologies. Do you have your own camera?" He asked again, this time making his question clearer and easier to understand for the young woman. Yasmin nodded and looked down once again, embarrassed at the fact that she hadn't understood the question the first time. 

Mr. Brown wrote something down on the form again and cleared his throat. "Okay. That is all as far as the course is concerned. Now. For your accommodation..." He trailed off, reading another form and circling a possible home for the young woman with a green pen and crossing out full apartments and homes that would be completely unsuitable. "Unfortunately, most of our accommodations are full." Mr. Brown started as he tapped his pen on the papers. Yasmin's face fell at the comment and she began to fidget. Her chest tightened at the thought of having to go back home with the news that she had no place to live and, therefore, was unable to begin her studies. 

Mr. Brown noticed Yasmin's distress and looked up. "As I said, Ms. Pastor, most. Not all. We have one left, however..." He trailed off again, thinking for a moment. Yasmin's face brightened ever so slightly and she looked at the man, waiting for him to finish. "This apartment has mostly boys living there. I have no doubt that you would set them straight, of course, but I am worried that they may bother you in some way." He sighed softly as he spoke, his worry so severe that it furrowed his brow. Yasmin almost shot out of her chair, worried that she might be rejected yet again.