How To Love (Tyler Seguin)

Chapter 15

Amy's POV

Fuck my alarm didn't go off. I'm gunna be late for my first day of school.

I hurry to the washroom, and quickly brush my teeth. I run back to my room, and throw on a tshirt and jeans. I rush through my makeup, only putting on mascara and some concealer, and quickly do my hair.

I grab my phone and my school bag, and rush downstairs. I go into the kitchen where Dylan and dad are sitting and eating breakfast.

"I made you an omelette and some bacon," dad says.

"Thanks, but I don't have time. I'm running late," I say and grab an apple.

I take a bite from the apple. I ruffle Dylan's hair, and give him a kiss on the top of his head.

"Ok bye," I say, and go to the front door.

I slip on some flip flops and grab my car keys. I rush out the door, and start my car, putting my bag in the passenger's seat.

Fuck this traffic. I'm gunna be seriously late. I tap my fingers on the steering wheel as I wait in traffic.

"C'mon dammit," I yell at the cars in front of me.

Eventually, traffic clears up a bit as I drive further down. I start speeding whenever I think I won't get caught.

I finally arrive at the university. I park my car in the student parking lot. I grab my bag, and head to the pharmacy building. I'm glad that Tyler talked me into going on that tour otherwise I would be seriously lost right now.

I enter the building, and roam down the halls looking for the room. I find the lecture hall, and put my hand on the doorknob, praying that it isn't locked because I know that some professors like to do that.

Fortunately, it isn't locked and I open the door. Everyone sitting in the rows and the professor all look at me. I feel my face start to burn from all the eyes staring at me.

"Late on the first day," the professor says.

"Sorry, traffic was bad," I tell him.

"What's your name?," he asks.

"Amy."

"Well would anyone like to summarize to Amy what I just said?," he asks, looking at the class.

This nerdy looking guy, with glasses, a dress shirt, khakis, and even a pocket protector containing a variety of pens, sitting in the front row, raises his hand. Typical.

"Yes," the professor says, pointing to the nerd.

"Before you so rudely interrupted this class, Mr. Collins was telling us that he graduated from high school at the age of fifteen, and went to Harvard. And in addition to teaching pharmacy, he teaches microbiology here at the university," the nerd tells me.

I really want to punch this guy. He has such a smug look on his face while he talks. He seems like a total kiss ass.

"Mr. Collins is quite amazing and a genius," he adds.

"If he's so amazing and smart, why is he teaching here and not somewhere like Harvard? Or better yet, why isn't he a doctor and saving lives?," I ask the nerd.

He doesn't know what to say. His face is in utter shock at what I just said. I smirk at him, and mentally pat myself on the back for shutting this kid up.

"Take a seat," Mr. Collins coldly says.

I roll my eyes, and walk up the stairs. I find an empty seat near the back of the room and take it. I sit down, and set the desk down over my lap.