Say Yes To Forever

Chapter Four

Pulling into a free space, of course, I am perfectly fifteen minutes early. I listen to another Backstreet Boys song on the radio and triple-check I have everything I need for my first day of class. Luckily, I’d walked the full campus at orientation and took the time to find my classes when I’d picked up my textbooks last week.

With a high of seventy-three today and the campus surely going to have the AC blowing, I reach to the back seat to grab my favorite denim jacket. Door closed, car locked, I sling my messenger bag over my chest and drop my sunglasses back down. The Autumn chill is noticeable as I walk across the parking lot but my anxiety about college isn’t letting me enjoy the morning.

Just before entering the linguistics building for Sub-human Anthropology, I take a long drink of my coffee. You can do this, Valarie… I remind myself, and I totally can! I had A’s and B’s in high school, I love reading, and all the core classes for Freshman year seem easy enough. And Sub-human Anthropology being a part of it? Not only do I find the subject fascinating but made me optimistic for my generation.

Down the hall, I double-check the classroom number on the door and then peek inside. The professor’s already here, setting up what he needs at the front desk. There’re already a couple of girls seated and deep in conversation in the front, and to the side there’s a guy leaning up against the wall with his eyes closed. I strategically pick the middle seat in that back row, able to see the whole room.

Coffee down, bag on a spare chair, I take out my textbook, notebook, pencil, and highlighter. I try not to seem too eager by getting comfortable in my chair and nonchalantly watching as the rest of the class files in. Maybe ‘cause of how early it is or maybe the subject itself, but there’s maybe twenty of us total by the time the professor closes the door and gathers our attention.

“Hello everyone! This is Sub-human Anthropology, a required class for incoming Freshman. I’m Professor Anthony Ramsey and I’m excited to have you all this semester.”

Suddenly, the door opens, and we all look over. A young man enters and apologies to Ramsey. But instead of slipping into the closest open seat, he passes the front of the class and puts his bag down on the front table.

His dirty-blond bangs fall across his forehead as he searches for something in his bag. After lifting out a stack of papers he shrugs off his black leather jacket and pushes up the sleeves of his forest green sweater. With a nod to the professor, he moves back across the room.

“This is my TA, Cyrus Laveroi,” Professor Ramsey clarifies, “and he’ll be here to help you guys as much as I am. This subject is extremely important, especially in the recent social climate, and we,” he gestures between them, “are here to make sure you thoroughly understand everything we’ll cover… and please! Don’t be afraid to ask questions.”

Cyrus – the Cyrus Laveroi – hands out the papers at the end of each row as Professor Ramsey moves to get the projector ready. When I have my copy of the syllabus, I start skimming it. In the background, I hear names being called and people replying “Here”.

“Valarie Ward?”

My head snaps up. Cyrus looks around the classroom. As I stare into his handsome face, I lose my train of thought. The way he called my name… it – I blink a few times; it’s exactly like my dreams. The deep tone, the hint of an accent, it had been so unique then and now a perfect match.

Only when he says “Valarie?” again do I raise my hand, “Here!” His intense expression softens, and he smiles at me before moving on to the next name.

---

Blinds closed, lights off, Anthony is going over the syllabus point by point via the projector as I lean against the far wall. Most students are reading along, some are taking notes… I don’t really have any work to do today except answer questions at the end. So, seeing as I apparently cannot help myself, my eyes keep drifting to Valarie, hoping to catch her gaze.

Just as captivated as I had been on the bench, I have watched her directly and indirectly over the past twenty minutes. I feel a connection that I have only felt once before… seventy-eight years ago when I tranziție. A deep, unexplainable, astral-based connection that I had as a Newling with my Sire. The connection that I lost when my Sire died.

This connection drove me to want to get to know her, to protect her, to take care of her… to… to love her. Just then, Valarie catches my eye and smiles. Heart racing, breathing unsteady, I must exit the room. Running to the empty classroom across the way, I close the door and lock it. Leaning against it, I slide down and extend my fangs.

Feeling a rush of relief, I close my eyes and moan. I need to calm down, but all my senses are on overdrive. The same way they would after fighting or drinking from a Human… my heart is racing, my mind can’t focus, I can hear every little thing, and still smell Valarie from this far away. Not just her blood, but her perfume, her shampoo, and her coffee.

This seems to finally soothe me, the more I focus on it. The scent of her vanilla and honey perfume; a subtle, warm sweetness, reminding me of one of my favorite macarons. I could imagine the scent all over me, just as my scent would be all over her. That way people would know I am hers and that she is mine.

---

Biting my lower lip anxiously, I watch as the classroom empties, holding my notebook with the syllabus on top against my chest. Professor Ramsey already left, needing to get to a meeting, so I wait for my turn to talk to Cyrus. Finally, when the last girl leaves through the doorway, I take a step closer to where he stands putting things in his bag.

With a deep breath and a hard swallow, I force myself not to focus on how he’s even more attractive up close. “Cyrus?”

He looks up, double-takes then smiles. “Valarie… hi.”

Our eyes lock, the color of his irises reminding me of the fresh green of Spring. There’s a sort of electricity between us as I look up at him, and without my permission or control, my body over-reacts. Heart racing, breathing shallow, cheeks warming, I have to draw my gaze away.

I point to the syllabus. “So… I noticed there isn’t anything about required attendance or how many allowed absences there are. Of course, I wouldn’t want to miss class,” I backtrack, “But if I have a doctor’s appointment or something… should I still let you guys know?”

“If you’d like. Some professors are stricter than Ramsey, but as long as you’re here when you can be and do all your work, I’m sure it won’t be a problem.”

I nod, my head sort of bouncing as I look around. “Cool.”

When I finally look at him again, there’s something in his expression that causes butterflies. I clear my throat and pull out the paper I’d stuck behind the syllabus. “So, um, I know you’re new to Stars Hallow,” I hand the paper over, “so, if you, like, want a tour guide or something… here’s my number. Um, you can text message me any time or call after six when my minutes are free.”

I start backing up, overwhelmed with butterflies and nerves and the inability to get a deep breath. “So, yeah! Um, see you Wednesday!” and I bolt out the door.