I try but you see, it's hard to explain (Julian Casablancas fanfic)

3. First impressions

Weekday breakfast is from 7:30 to 8:30, which means having to wake up pretty fuckin' early if you wanna fuel up for your morning classes. Since it's the first day of term, today's morning classes are replaced by an introductory assembly welcoming the new students and welcoming back the old ones. By the second hour, Albert and I have had enough so we sneak out to smoke cigarettes on the lawn. The sunny weather is unusual for bleak, grey Switzerland. We get back just in time to collect our timetables. We separate because I stand in the A-F line, while his last name is Hammond. I chew on my bottom lip, a habit of mine, and glance around. A lot of old faces, some new ones. Nobody who stands out, but I'm sure there's some groovy personalities hidden somewhere in the crowd. At least, I hope so. The line moves forward and my gaze lands on the person who just received their timetable and is now walking back past the line. He's tall and rugged, with long, brown hair that compliments his big, chocolate-colored eyes and full lips. The shirt of his uniform is untucked and his tie hangs loosely around his neck like a scarf. The dark circles under his eyes are prominent and quite frankly, he looks like shit. But my god, he's fucking gorgeous and I just can't keep my eyes off him. Truth be told, I've already decided that I wanna have sex with him, which is crazy, considering all the very attractive preppy boys I turned down last year. I'm staring, I'm aware of it, but luckily he walks right past me without catching my eye. He looks pissed off. "Lola! Hey, Lola!" a squeaky voice jerks me out of this moment of infatuation. It's Alvin, also known as Alvin the chipmunk, a short and chubby boy who I think has a crush on me, ever since that time I defended him against a bunch of jerks who were picking on him. I like him though, mostly for his innocence, and it sucks that he's stuck here because it's likely this place will turn him into something he's not. "Hi Alvin," I smile politely. "How was your summer? Did you go on holiday? What electives did you sign up for?" He's breathlessly bombarding me with questions that I try to keep up with, all while scanning the room for the guy from before. No luck, he's gone. I don't really care anyway.

By the time afternoon classes start, a set of dark clouds has rushed in. Like I said - grey Switzerland. My first class is advanced English, and just my luck to not have my first class with Albert. I sit in the back so I can doodle when I get bored. I'm so lost in thought that I don't even notice Mr. Scruffy Handsome having sat down at the desk next to mine. I'm immediately nervous and fidgety, chewing on my bottom lip and crossing my legs back and forth - very out of character for me. I don't even know why I'm freaking out, considering he doesn't even look at me, in fact, I don't think he's even noticed me. He obviously didn't sit next to me on purpose, just wanted to be in the back of the classroom and keep to himself, like me. Why does he always look so pissed off? It's so unfair - all those boys who had the hots for me last year, "that Lola with the red lipstick and the long legs", constantly trying to get a date with me, and the one guy I'm actually interested in doesn't give a shit. Not only that, he's blown my confidence away so that I can't even find it in me to talk to him. Mr. Henry arrives and class begins. I learn during roll call that his name is "Julian Casablancas". God damn, what a name. Suits him. We jump straight into discussions and interpretations of a bunch of short texts. This subject has potential, unfortunately Mr. Henry has the passion of a rock. I don't know how long I've been daydreaming but I snap out of him when I realise Mr. Henry is going off at Casablancas. I don't know what he did but with Mr. Henry, not paying attention or simply getting a question wrong is enough to set off his mean streak. The old man just doesn't give it a rest. Then he turns to me and asks me the question Casablancas couldn't answer. I feel uneasy at the uncomfortable situation but I've been on Mr. Henry's bad side since last year and I'm not looking for anymore trouble. I'm just looking out for myself, like everyone else here. I calmly give him the answer he's looking for - I've already read the book that text is from. Matter of fact, I've read the majority of the books we've been assigned during my lonely days at home. Mr. Henry smirks but leaves me alone, and I smile to myself because I've won this time. "Smartass posh bitch," Casablancas growls under his breath. I'm so taken aback at the insult that I don't even retort. What a dick. I guess there's nothing so special about him after all.  

Casablancas and I have a couple more classes together in the duration of the afternoon. We stay out of each other's way though, and there are no more unpleasant exchanges. I can't find Albert at dinner so I sit with some classmates. I don't particularly care for their topics of conversation but it's alright. When I get back to my dorm, I see a note that's been slipped under my door - "room 320. -Al".