Somewhere Else

Chapter 5: Versus (v)

I shove my hands into the pockets of my coat as I near the building. According to the crumpled piece of paper in my fist, my classroom is somewhere in this building. A45 – but the number means nothing to me. I don't even know which floor the room is on.

At the entrance, I almost hesitate. But I can't, because there are people heading for the doors, too, from behind me. I'd be in the way if I stopped. So I reach out and push into the building.

And then I really do have to stop, because I have no idea where to go next.

The students right behind push past me to head down the corridor. I stare after them, pursing up my lips. If only I were more like them. Self-assured; completely certain of where to go.

Then I blow out a long breath, feeling a lock of hair flip against my cheek at the action. Okay. I can't stand here forever. I need to start moving, too, so that I can find my classroom. I swivel my head to the left, then back to the right. There are students heading in both directions, so that tells me nothing. I have to choose.

Right, I decide. Because I need something to go right for once.

Decision made, I turn on my heel to head down the long hallway.

I walk past room after room, barely pausing enough to glance at the numbers printed on the doors. After the first two rooms, this much is obvious – I'm walking in the wrong direction. But I press on, because to turn around now would seem stupid. Anyway, I know this corridor loops back around. I'll get to where I need to go. It's just going to take a longer time than it should have, that's all.

The hallway is completely empty by the time I catch sight of the golden embossed 'A45' on the nearest door. Okay. This is the classroom I'm supposed to be in.

If I'd taken a left at the start, it would've been the second room I'd come across. As usual, I've made the wrong decision.

Then I shake my head. No more negativity. I'm here as the first step in turning my life around. But my footsteps, instead of quickening, slow to a drag against the squeaky floor.

Class has started. I'm late. What kind of impression is this going to make, being late on my first day?

Well, better late than never – isn't that what they say? I take a deep breath and step through the doorway. And immediately cringe as multiple pairs of eyes swivel over to fix in my direction.

How did they all get to class so quickly? I find myself wondering, as I take in the textbooks lying on the tables before each person. Isn't this their first day, too? Didn't they have to search for the classroom, too? How did they all manage to find it without any problems?

"Hallo," I whisper, as I meet the curious gaze of the teacher, who has stopped mid-sentence to watch my entrance with the rest of the class.

She smiles at me. "Hei," she says.

Hei. Of course. How could I have forgotten? People don't say hallo here, they say hei. Or one of the other variations of hello that have never come quite so naturally to me.

"Hei," I mumble, looking briefly down onto the floor. "Ehm... Anteeksi..." And then I am left biting my lip, because I don't know how to continue this sentence. I look up and see that they're all still staring at me. Almost instinctively, my feet start to shuffle backwards, before I forcibly plant them onto the carpet and clear my throat. My face feels hot. My neck is starting to freeze up again. I need to finish this and find a seat as quickly as possible, so that they all stop staring.

The teacher apparently takes pity on me. "This is the beginner's class. Are you in the class?"

"Ja," I say, only to clamp my mouth shut when I realise I've pronounced the word the German way. In Finland, it's jo. Ja, over here, means 'and'.