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10.34% Pre-disposed / Chapter 3: Chapter 2

Kapitel 3: Chapter 2

I am so ready for the new day, well, who wouldn't be. It's my first day and I'd go to the part where ,the wind was blowing and the compound was neat, with beautiful trees and the smartest building I've seen all my life and people, but the part where I tripped, okay literally fell like missed a stair on my way out, made it's way through.

"Hey, don't they have buildings with stairs where you come from freshman?"

"Tripper"

"Tripper"

"Tripper"

"What is this that she's wearing?"

"You're in campus not some old care home."

If I was in my country, I'd simply pick myself up and ignore them but _ I lay there and stare at the mocking crowd until _

"Hey, fuck off!" A hand is held out to me, they start whispering as they disperse and I get up.

"You alright?" She asks with a smile, not any pity showing on her face.

I nod.

"Wanna grab coffee? Kiara. My name is Kiara."

"A..." My voice is broken and I cough to clear it. "Abbie."

"Welcome to UCLA. Abbie." She smiles back at me.

UCLA? Is she recruiting me to some messed up club? Is that why she saved me? Well, not saved just helped me up. Stop thinking that Abigail! But mom said... What does mom know about America. Wait why is she smiling at me. Wow, she seems rich... Should I say thankyou?

"What is UCLA?" I'm almost running to catch up with her. Maybe because she is taller or maybe I'm just trying not to embarrass her, here she is looking like some model and here I am looking like a warrior nun.

That last bit made me stop a while to examine what I was wearing but then I recovered fast and walked fast to catch up.

"Seriously," she stops dramatically, her long curled hair falling to her shoulder and covering part of her dark face. She points out to the top of the building and the initials UCLA are scribbled at the top.

"Oh, this is UCLA." I bring my lips to a line and blush at my stupid thoughts.

She receives a phonecall and rushes forward holding a finger up to let me know it's important and there I am again, alone. I walk to the hallway and there is a map to all the rooms in the building. I smile to myself in satisfaction, this is what I imagined campus to be, well, exept the "tripper" part. I brush off the thought amd make my way to my first class 'BTOM 110' which was French. This is going to be interesting. I thought to myself as I walked around checking the map I had just snapped on the wall now and again.

The room was not as packed as I thought it could be, you know like conference halls, with small mics on each seat like I had seen in movies, it was just a rare setting of desks and students strewn chatting. Was I the only one in this school that knew no one? I pick a desk looking away from the eyes that were focused on me most with expressions of disgust, from my clothes I presume.

A man, middle aged, I presume, places a bunch of unattached papers on the front table. He stares down at me disapprovingly but recovers fast when he realises that I have noticed.

"Bonjour." ( hi) He says and everyone but me answers back. okay, what the hell? He looks at me and I slide down my seat as if I'm hiding from him.

"Français, chapitre un... "( French, chapter one...)

I should have listened to mom and not taken this scholarship. How am I supposed to maintain my grades with this?

Don't be foolish Abigail, you don't belong here, find a job and stick to it.

Rather find a rich guy around and get married. Oh, yea you are not good with guys either...

"Oui mademoiselle ?" (yes miss?) He startles me when he taps my desk softly.

"Uuh ?" I say lowly

He points out something he scribbled at the board. I thought all lecturers do is lecture no student lecturer interaction. That's what they told me in my highschool.

"I... I don't know."

"Focus." He says as the rest burst in to chuckles and whispers.

Great.

"I could help you out." I hear a voice behind me as I gather my backpack to leave. I turn around and a tall guy with dark eyes and dark skin, well shaven hair is standing over me grinning and holding his backpack on one hand.

"With..." I struggle to find my words but he beats me to it.

"French." I smile at how stupid I looked in class today and I really have nothing to loose.

"Abbie." I hold out my hand to him and he gladly shakes it.

"Brandon." He smiles again and I pick my backpack to leave. "Lunch?"

"No, thankyou, I have plans."

What plans Abbie? It's not like I want this guy to think he can start hitting on me because he offered to teach me French... He is just being nice... You already said you had plans, walk away.

"Tomorrow then?" He says behind me and I turn. I should definitely loosen my hair tomorrow this burn is not dramatic.

"Tomorrow." I smile and turn back taking tiny fast steps.

Tomorrow? Seriously? That's the best you could do?

My inner ego smirks at me but i push her behind my head.

"How was your fist day?"

Prudy is busy pulling out a pink transparent guitar from her closet. What is it with girls and pink.

"Good." I barely manage to say and she drops her shoulders and turns to look at me, her bright brown eyes filled with what looked like concern. She holds up her phone, _ a pink case seriously _ and turns the screen to face me. I scramble out of my shoes as I steadily grab her phone to look at the video. GIF actually.

America sucked so far.


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