CROSS OVER

SASCHA

It's a scorching sunny day as I make my way back from the university competition to my dormitory. Laden with plenty of materials to review, I can't help but feel the weight of exhaustion settling in. "Looks like it's another night of burning the midnight oil," I mutter to myself wearily. Pushing open the door to my room, I'm taken aback by the sight of Hannah's dress strewn across the floor in her characteristic carefree manner."So, you've returned," she quips with a playful grin. "I half expected you to be permanently glued to your seat at the university."Hannah Wells, my closest companion at Briarvale University, is a music major and undoubtedly one of the campus's most popular figures, thanks in no small part to her relationship with the charming hockey player, Noah Schmidt."Oh, come on, Wellsely," I chide gently. "Can't you keep your room tidy? It's not good for your mental health.""Don't call me 'Wellsely', I've told you a million times, girl!" She retorts, tossing a pillow in my direction.I chuckle as I settle my belongings onto the desk, but my attention is soon diverted by a notification on my phone. It's an email from Mr. Arlen Breg, detailing his schedule. "Just as I instructed," I remark to myself.Hannah swivels her attention towards me, leaning against the doorframe. "Why do you look like you've seen a ghost? How did the elocution competition go?""It went well," I reply with a hint of optimism. "Fingers crossed for that first prize – it's a cash award, after all."Hannah rests her hands on her hips, teasingly. "Alright, alright, spare me the details. But what about that run-in with Arlen Breg? I heard there was some drama."I can't help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. "Oh, that? It was nothing. Just a brief encounter – though he does come across as rather arrogant."Hannah pulls out her phone and shows me a video clip. "This says otherwise. It's like something straight out of a teen drama. Our classmates have been passing it around like wildfire.""Delete it," I demand, trying to snatch her phone away. "I've got more than enough on my plate without getting caught up in some scandal."With a mischievous grin, Hannah darts away and shuts the door behind her. "Come on, Sascha, focus!" I remind myself with a deep sigh. "Stay focused."

It's my time to hit the books, and being accepted into Briarvale University was a dream I couldn't have realized without my Fullbright scholarship. I'm determined to work hard, not just for my own education but also to improve the financial prospects for family. In Briarvale, excellence in Music, Sports, and Academics is the norm, making it one of the top institutions in the Europe. Armed with a cup of black coffee, I dive into revising my notes for my upcoming French session. Within an hour, I've completed my preparations and made significant progress. However, my thoughts stray to Professor William's assignment. I reach for my laptop and open the email from Arlen Breg.

"Hi Sascha,

I'm reaching out to see if we can schedule some tutoring sessions as Professor William suggested. My schedule can be quite busy, but I'm eager to get some extra help with my studies.Here's a breakdown of my weekdays.

(Monday-Friday):Morning: Basketball Practice (5:00 AM - 7:00 AM)

In-between: French Class (Time to be determined)

Core Papers: Business & Communications (Time to be determined)

Evening: Basketball Practice (9:00 PM - 10:00 PM)

As you can see, my mornings and evenings are pretty booked with basketball practice. However, I have some flexibility with my class schedule, especially for French.Would you be able to suggest some times that might work for both of us for tutoring sessions? I'm open to any day of the week, Monday through Friday.See you soon, Ms. Tooth Gum [ an winked eye emoji ]

As I read through his schedule, I realize that finding a suitable time won't be too difficult. But then, my eyes catch the sign-off – "Ms. Tooth Gum." A surge of annoyance flares up within me. "The audacity to call me tooth gum," I mutter to myself, teetering on the edge of frustration. Taking a deep breath, I bang the desk in annoyance before regaining my composure and returning to making notes, I slammed my hand on the desk in frustration but quickly regained my composure to focus on preparing notes for this 'Axe man'. As the hours passed, I found myself dozing off at the table, only to be rudely awakened by Hannah packing her bag for university and thumping me on the desk. It dawned on me that it was already 8 am, so I hurriedly grabbed my clothes and dashed to the bathroom, getting ready in record time.

Hannah quickly slipped into her bootcut jeans and rushed, "Noah's waiting for me. I'll make sure you catch the bus. I'll catch up with you during break. Bye, love ya!" With that, she left her guitar and bag behind. I hurriedly descended the stairs and sprinted towards the bus station, managing to hop on just in time. I was panting heavily as I settled into a seat. The sun was shining brightly, and people were dressed in vibrant colors. This is why I love summer – it's the season when everyone wears colorful clothes. Unlike winter, where everyone seems to be draped in black, it's just dull and lifeless. But now, everything is bright and beautiful.

I grabbed my notepad and started analyzing my to-do list. Everything was checked off except for the tutoring session with Arlen. Frustrated, I absentmindedly scratched my nails on the pad. Suddenly, I was jostled by the rush of people, signaling it was time to get off the bus.

I finally reached the university and dashed towards my department. I attended the entire class and then I texted Arlen: "What's up? We gotta start our session. I know we've got a break and no classes. Let's start. Come to Studiehuis. I'll be there. And remember, you can't be late, Mister."

I grabbed my books and packed my bag, meeting Hannah for lunch before heading towards Studiehuis, a haven for uninterrupted studying. Pushing open the café door, my eyes landed on Arlen. He looked up, his gaze locking onto mine, and I suddenly felt like a mess. He sat there, sipping his drink, clad in a crisp white shirt and beige chinos – a sight I'd never seen before. Shaking off my surprise, I approached him."Sorry I'm late," I blurted out, flustered. "I had lunch with Hannah, and time got away from me."He set his mug down and turned his attention to me, a smirk playing on his lips. "Ah, so now you're late. I'm always punctual, you know," he teased."Just because I ran a bit behind doesn't mean I'm entirely late," I countered, offering a hurried apology. "Anyway, let's get back to our business."He pulled a chair closer to mine, his gaze still fixed on me. "Listen, I used to excel in academics, but lately, personal issues have distracted me from my studies. I just need some guidance and updates on the notes," he explained. "That's all.""Alright, I'll help you out. But now you're starting to sound a little bossy," I joked, trying to lighten the mood. "Here are the notes we'll cover today – Participe passé. I'll send you the detailed notes tonight so you can review them later."

Learning French isn't a walk in the park, especially at Briarvale University where you're expected to master three languages. Dutch in your first year, French in your second alongside your regular coursework, and classical English literature thrown into the mix. It's a linguistic juggling act that requires serious dedication. I found myself explaining the intricacies of French grammar, from the ABC de la Grammaire Française to the elusive Participe passé, to Arlen. It's easy enough to grasp when you're listening, but when it comes to putting pen to paper, the questions can be downright tricky to tackle.To my surprise, Arlen showed remarkable patience, attentively listening as I navigated through each explanation and query. "Looks like we've covered half the module," I remarked with a relieved sigh."Yeah, and I didn't even nod off during your lecture. You're pretty good at this, Ms. Tooth Gum," he said with a hint of amusement.Embarrassment flooded through me as I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. "Please, stop calling me that. It's embarrassing. I don't want to be reminded of our little collision incident. People might think we're starring in some cheesy rom-com," I blurted out, oblivious to the curious glances from nearby tables.He chuckled softly, his eyes meeting mine. "What's the harm? Do you really care what others think?"His gaze held mine, his lashes widening slightly. "Well, maybe I do," I admitted sheepishly. "Alright, I'll send you the study materials tonight. And do me a favor, tell Professor Williams that I'm a competent tutor, will you?" I added with a wry smile.I gathered my things, ready to head back to the dormitory, when suddenly his hand tightened around my wrist. I turned to face him, feeling a strange flutter in my stomach. "Would you like something to drink?" he offered, his eyes searching mine.I shook my head, suddenly feeling too flustered for conversation. "No, thanks. The thought of breaking bread with the great Arlen sits heavy in my stomach, like a meal that won't digest" I quipped, folding my hands tightly against my chest as I made my hasty exit. 

As evening descended, Damsquare came alive with the glow of chimed lights, casting a magical aura over the scene. The canal shimmered with reflected lights, while bicycles lined the streets. The birds gracefully descended, adding to the enchanting ambiance. The sky was painted with hues of blue and pink, reminiscent of a scene from a Taylor Swift music video, evoking an era of lover. I savored the serene beauty of the evening before reluctantly making my way back to the dormitory.