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“But he confessed, right?”
“Yeah, but if you have enough money, no one’s serving a murder charge.” Penny wrinkles her nose. “I swear, the justice system in this country is so fucked up. I can’t wait to change it.”
While her intentions are admirable, I’m fairly certain that no matter how far up the legal hierarchy she makes it, she’s going to have a hard time with that one. But as she’s going into a rant about that, I know I’ve lost my opportunity to find out more about Cole.
Instead, I reach for my bag, grabbing my notepad. As I search for the pencil I put in earlier—I’ve always preferred taking notes in pencil instead of pen—I’m very aware that everyone else around me either has a laptop or a tablet in front of them.
“Welcome to Communications 101.” The words aren’t shouted, but they still carry clearly around the room. “No matter what profession you wish to work in, your ability to communicate effectively will be the key to how far you’re able to succeed.”
My head is still down as I search my bag for the pencil, but the voice has the hairs on the back of my neck standing up on end.
Because I recognize the voice.
Clenching my fingers around the pencil, I sit upright. And standing next to the professor’s desk, at the side of the whiteboard, is the guy I spilled coffee on.
Fuck my life.
“Communication isn’t just what we say,” the professor continues. “It’s what we wear, it’s how we stand, and it’s the silent language our body uses.” The gaze that has been gradually sweeping the room pauses on me, but like he doesn’t recognize me, he continues looking at each student. “Every moment you’re in this class, you are being graded.”
“He can grade me,” I hear someone behind me say. They’re loud enough for almost everyone to hear and start sniggering.
The professor doesn’t crack a smile. Instead, he walks to the board and picks up the pen to write on the board. The board is a smart board, and he switches settings so whatever he writes appears in his own handwriting instead of being changed into a font.
Dr. Payne Wright.
His handwriting is immaculate, and despite the length of the board, he manages to keep his name almost perfectly straight.
“BDSM King,” another girl says, earning another chorus of sniggers which Dr. Wright continues to ignore.
Instead, he walks back to the desk and pulls an iPad out of his leather case. “Attendance is mandatory.” And with that, he proceeds to read through the list of students in the class, marking us present when we answer. Once completed, he sets the iPad down and looks at us all. “By show of hands, who here has read the introductory guidebook?”
Everybody’s hand goes up. Guidebook is generous. It was a two-page document listing a few ground rules, like mandatory attendance and no talking in class, as well as how the class was going to focus on written and spoken form this year. At the bottom was the list of required reading for the year. Thankfully, all but one of the books, I’d found in the library.
“Then you are familiar with the rules.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good.” Dr. Wright’s gaze snaps to me “Ms. Anderson. Perhaps you could share them with the class?”
“Attendance is mandatory, be on time, hands in the air if you wish to speak, and ensure all readings for the class are completed.”
Slowly, Dr. Wright tilts his head. “And?”
My lips part, but I’ve got nothing. There were four bullet points on the sheet: four rules. I glance at Penny, who tries to angle her iPad to face me, but stops when she sees Dr. Wright staring at her.
“Our grades are based on points?” I ask, wracking my brain for anything else that was on the guidance document.
“Anybody else?”
Instantly, a dozen hands shoot up into the air.
“Yes, Mr. Lister.”
Noel Lister is sitting a couple of rows in front of me, but he turns his head to look pointedly at me before standing. “As per the required reading for the first class, one must stand when answering a question or addressing the class. Listen actively and attentively. Do not interrupt anyone who is speaking, instead, raise your hand and wait to be acknowledged. Critique ideas but not people. Provide evidence instead of opinions. Turn your cellphone off in class, and finally, do not leave class early without permission from the professor.”
My skills at keeping a poker face might be excellent, but they’re doing nothing to combat the heat I feel on my cheeks. But as much as I am embarrassed, I’m angrier at myself for missing this. And how had I missed something about required reading for today’s lesson?
“Thank you, Mr. Lister. And Ms. Anderson, that’s a point deducted for not doing the required reading and an additional point for failing to stand.” Dr. Wright nods at a guy in the first row, who stands up and turns to the class. “This is my TA, Quentin Harrington. One of his jobs is to record points awarded and deducted, which are then included with your midterms and finals. Anyone who Mr. Harrington records as ending this class with negative figures, regardless of your grade will receive a fail. No exceptions.”
