History Always Repeats Itself

Chapter 3

It was completely silent and I could just feel all the awkward stares from around the room centering their attention on me. Finally after what felt like forever, he cleared his throat, bringing the class's attention back to him,

"Yes well, as I was saying, I am Professor Fitz and this year our studies will include-"

I was already feeling faint and my mind would not stop flashing back to my junior year at Rosewood High. The room felt like it was spinning and I was sure that my heart had already jumped out of my chest. Sam grabbed my arm and tried to get my attention,

"Aria, are you ok? You don't look so good..."

"Huh?"

"I said, you aren't looking so good, is everything ok? Did Professor Fitz, like, run over your dog or something?"

"What? No why would you ask me that..." I said, turning so that I could see her.

"Uh maybe because you two were awkwardly staring at each other for, like, ever. Do you know him?" she said.

"No, I mean kind of, he was just my high school English teacher..."

"Oh what did you like fail his class or something? Did he give you a hard time?" she threw her head back smiling, trying not to laugh as she mocked me.

"I guess you could say that..." I said and turned back to face the front of the hall. I was done talking about this, and I think Sam understood because she immediately stopped smiling.

My high school English teacher... It stung more than it should have to refer to Ezra like that, and it was basically a giant slap in the face to that first year we had together. I remember it so clearly, which I find strange since I've spent the last two and a half years trying to forget. I can remember sitting next to him as his stage manager (I admit, not the smartest idea on my part), and the day we talked about our future, or I guess we talked about if we were even going to have one.

"The whole point of college is to broaden your world, not pack up your high school English teacher and bring him with you," Ezra said.

I tilted my head, I almost couldn't believe what I had just heard, "You are not just my high school English teacher. Is that how you see yourself?"

He backed away from me, avoiding my eyes, "No. But you will, when the time comes," he said.

I remember opening my mouth to speak, but I just couldn't find the words. I searched his eyes for some sort of sign, something that would tell me he wasn't serious, but I knew that he was. I thought that he was crazy to think I would ever see him like that, but here we are, almost three years later and that's exactly what he is to me, my high school English teacher. Funny how these things work, isn't it?

I finally brought myself back from my little trip down memory lane just as Mr. Fitz- I'm sorry, Professor Fitz, was finishing up the syllabus for the year. For the year. It just hit me that I would be sitting in this class every other day for the next year being taught by the one person I wanted to stay away from most. I probably could try to switch out into another class, but were there even any other classes for this major available? And if there were, would they be full? No. I thought to myself. I wasn't going to let one person destroy the plans I had for my future. He had already destroyed my life in high school and there is no way I was going to let him ruin college for me too. This was supposed to be my year to forget, and if he wanted to show up and try and take that from me, I wasn't going to let him. I have new friends, a new boyfriend, and a new life. Nothing was going to change that, not even Ezra Fitz.