“Sure, sure,” she waved over her shoulder as she headed off. “Meet up at the dorms before practice?”
“Yeah. Good luck, Ashford,” I answered.
“Thanks, Price.” She turned around, taking a few steps backward as she offered me one last grin. “I’d say the same, but we both know you won’t need it.”
As I headed off to my lecture, I tried to savor the cool breeze that nipped my skin and carried the faint sweet and woody aroma of pending fall, heavy with the promise of change. Madison’s words replayed in my head over and over again as the building entrance loomed larger and larger before me.
Excitement and nervousness had my stomach twisted in knots, but I was ready. That was what rules were for, after all.
*
The lecture hall buzzed with the energy of a new semester, though it was bound to taper off the longer the months stretched on. But for now, things were a few levels below rowdy. I caught up with some of my class friends, and we picked a safe spot near the top of the steep, tiered seating—close enough to help us pay attention but far enough for an easy exit at the end.
“Have you heard anything about the replacement?” Chloe asked, eliciting a round of “no’s” from the rest of us as we settled in. “I’m hoping whoever it is is better than Oswald Graminski.” Her face contorted as if she’d just sucked on a lemon. “I mean, his first name is Oswald, for God’s sake. Why that fact alone managed to get past the faculty, I have no idea.”
“Ease up on the man,” James laughed. “He’s like a hundred years old.”
“Exactly!” Chloe threw her hands up. “The guy should’ve retired eons ago. Before bringing in his archaic bullshit ideals and ridiculous grading standards. Total capitalist lapdog.”
She wasn’t wrong. I’d done okay in his class, but I wasn’t the biggest fan of his work ethic and principles. Which tended to sully the course somewhat.
“It’s okay to say you flunked out, you know,” James teased.
“Stones and glass houses,” I said glibly as I placed my laptop on the desk. Chloe chuckled.
“Hey, I’m only in this for the money. Don’t care how ugly my transcript looks, as long as I do well enough to get a job, I’m golden,” James replied. “So are most people here, professors not exempt. This isn’t exactly a field of passion.”
Not necessarily, I thought to myself. But I remained quiet while the two of them continued to bicker and pretend not to flirt until our aforementioned professor finally made his debut.
Very few people even noticed at first. He didn’t come in bellowing for silence like Professor Graminski had last semester. But there was nothing timid about his entrance, either. He was tall, broad-shouldered beneath his gray sweater, and walked with an air of quiet authority. The kind that didn’t need to be demanded. He just dropped his satchel behind the podium, then leaned slightly forward, holding onto the sides as he waited for the class to settle down.
He didn’t wait long.
Soon enough, a hush fell over everyone as they silenced each other impressively quickly. I blinked, the knots in my stomach from earlier twisting even tighter, but for a very different reason this time.
“That's definitely not Graminski,” Chloe whispered, her own gaze transfixed. I shook my head.
“Welcome back, everyone.” His deep, smooth voice filled the hall with a confident projection that didn’t match the youth of his face. “I’m Lucas Blackwell, your professor for this semester.”
There were a few whispers and some giggling scattered throughout the class. I couldn’t help but lean closer. Lucas Blackwell looked young, easily the youngest professor I’d seen on campus. He couldn’t have been more than a few years older than me, twenty-nine or thirty at most. He straightened, folding his arms across a broad chest that matched the shoulders.
“I suppose this is where I introduce some kind of ice-breaker and wait awkwardly while you all wish the time away,” he said. A few more laughs at the truth behind the statement. “But rest assured, I won’t force anyone to speak unless they want to. I doencourage it, though. I like to know who and what I’m working with.”
He hadn’t so much as stuttered once since he started speaking. Lucas’s eyes combed over the class, and even though they never lingered on anyone longer than the rest, I still felt the back of my neck heat up when his gaze passed over me. Looking around, I could tell that I was far from the only student who seemed affected.
Completely unaware of the effect he had, he continued. “I won’t waste time on your favorite colors or most embarrassing childhood memory. If you’re sitting here, it means you’ve stuck out the bulk of your degree, and that means you’re serious about graduating and finding your place in the field. One thing I want to impress upon you guys, though, is the need to move beyond the technical. We’re not just dealing with infrastructure, we’re working with living communities.”
The longer he spoke, the more enthralling he became. Many professors had tried to give cheesy speeches in an attempt to inspire motivation at the start of the semester and had soon given up when they realized it was impossible.
But you could hear a pin drop in the active silence.
“Much of urban development so far has rested solely on commercial development and what looks best when squared up with the bottom line. Which is ultimately pointless if you plan on building anything that will last,” Lucas said. “If you want a resilient infrastructure, there are other things to consider. Anyone want to guess what that could be?”
For a moment, no one dared to answer. A boy’s hand went up in the back of the class, and Lucas nodded at him.
“Uh… adapting to improving technology?” he offered, sounding unsure of himself.
Lucas’s head tilted from side to side, like the answer was not quite there. “That’s not wrong, it’s definitely an important pragmatic consideration. But I want you guys to dig a little deeper.”
