“Good to see that you’ve managed to make it to my class, Mr. Beltrami,” Professor Feargus Seaghdh states plainly, a little visibly pissed off that his first day of discussion of the subject syllabus must be interrupted by someone wishing for a special treatment. “You must take note, young lad, that I don’t tolerate tardiness. Rather be absent for the day than to come late.”
“Noted, sir,” Sam replies with his usual easy smile, but I could also hint some tremor on his side.
Anyway, what is he doing here? And hell, why is he in this university? College, to be precise? There are countless of universities that won’t doubt take him as their student if he so badly needed to enter in one, and his father will wish him to graduate at one prestigious school that will surely elevate the view of their society to them. Though University College Dublin is also one famous and a great university, there’s the Trinity College of Dublin that will equate for his heritage from lines of counts and barons. Another thing, why would he take up a course in Chemical and Bioprocessing Engineering? He was an actor. He should be… no, his father won’t even allow that one. But he could simply choose law, or history, or culture.
“I don’t want you to mess up with my class, Mr. Beltrami. If you would be so kind to finally find a seat you want to,” Professor Seaghdh offers dully, turning to face the whiteboard again for him to continue his discussion. “And please, please… don’t cause a riot in my class. Everyone, spare the rest of the time in what I am saying. I am sure that Mr. Beltrami will be so open to answer all of your questions later.”
Sam chuckles softly as his eyes finally scan the room, ending to meet my own. As he slowly ascends the stairs, he smiles at me, and sits on the vacant seat next to me, causing few murmurs to heighten much more from both girls and boys inside the room. He greets as quietly as he could, “Hey.”
“Hey to you, too,” I counter back softly. “What are you doing?”
“Taking up Chemical and Bioprocessing Engineering, starting my first day on a class of Chemistry.”
“I know that. What I mean is that, what had gotten into you?”
Professor Seaghdh clears his throat. All the hush voices inside the room quiet down at the threateningly move.
Next to me, Sam runs his hand onto the locks of his dark hair. For others, it might be an ordinary movement. But me, knowing him for more than half of my life, I know too well what that means. It’s a secret code that we’ve made when we were kids.
Talk to you later.
------------------------------
The remaining twenty-five minutes after Sam arrived for class turns out to be one complete dangerous and tepid one. The tick of the clock’s hand seems to slow down five times fold that I almost have an inch of finally getting out of here.
Not to mention as well that Sam remains listening attentively at whatever Professor Seaghdh is saying, probably in order not to get the professor’s nerves again after his tardiness on class’ first day, and casually keeps on glancing at me and scanning his eyes onto the rest of the people around the room. But he’s no longer smiling at all since then. On the other hand, I though successfully finished one round of writing a music sheet that I want to play already because of boredom.
A minute before classes end, I’ve already fixed all of my things and way so ready to be out of this room all ready to head for my next class. But at the exact moment that Professor Seaghdh announces the dismissal of his class, Sam has his hand closing around one of my wrists already and hastily drags me out of the room. I am no longer able to shout at him why, when all of my limbs has the every urge to run.
“Come on,” he tells me, urging me on to come along with him.
“Why should I come with you? I just want to talk with you,” I reply back as we head down the halls of the college littered by students of different courses for engineering who stops mid-way of their walks and conversation to see the commotion.
“There should be some secret place around here, don’t you think?” he questions as he casts a quick glance behind us as we continue running on, before finally returning his stern glare right ahead of us. “I hate them.”
“Them?” I finally dare myself to look behind us, and I don’t expect that I’ll see a huge crowd of fans, mostly girls, dashing to where we are heading. All of them are screaming on and holding banners with Brión Siadhail’s name written on it. Others though have cameras along with them, snapping pictures already, and the flashes almost blind me.
I turn to Sam again and I am slowly hastily catching my breath. I am so tired already, and I can feel my heart about to burst from my chest if we are to run another turn. “Why do you need to drag me along with this? You’re practically letting them know that we know each other personally.”
“I’ve already retired from the industry, and I expect that they’ll stop following after me. It appears that it became way too mainstream for them not to do so right away,” he replies. He stops abruptly that I almost bump against his back. He continues holding my hand as he drags me on another turn and then to one door. “In,” he orders as the two of us slip from everyone’s eyes.
It appears that Sam had led me to a fire exit.
He keeps his hold onto my hand tight as he urges me on to descend one floor. A second later, the two of us are both catching on our breaths. He leans against the concrete wall with his hands against his knees, and I helplessly sit down by the corner clutching against the front of my shirt, trying to ease the uneven beat of my heart.
“I don’t think we’ll make it to our next class,” he tells me between his heavy breathing. “I’ve never run that far and fast for a long time.”
I haven’t run that way just as he does, either. I am never that athletic when it comes to physical fitness, and this completely makes my heart seems to clench its surrounding veins tightly. It hurts. I call for him softly, “Sam…”
The audible weakness on my voice is possibly the reason why he suddenly snaps and walks to where I am sitting. He kneels in front of me and holds my hands. He says, “Shit, I forgot. I am sorry. Just… just focus on breathing right now. It’ll be okay, I promise.”
I close my eyes and does as he said. I try to focus on breathing. I try to forget everything and clear my mind. I push away the troubles that I am to face from my mother, searching for me among the number of students she’ll be having for Physics today since I am not present. I think that it’s only me and Sam here, that there are no fans of his trying to find us or what. I force myself not to blame Sam for having me be caught up in such a chase. I just need to accept the fact that everyone in campus just doesn’t know still that we’ve known each other, and they want to be with him.
“Easy there,” I hear him whisper. “I’ve got you.” I feel his hand surrounding by my shoulders and his other hand behind my knees. I let my senses overpower my mind as I realize that he’d keep me on his arms as he settles on one of the steps for him to sit on. His hold tightens comfortingly.
I don’t know how many minutes have passed before I finally open my eyes and stare straight into Sam’s brilliant grayish-green eyes. I realize that he’s looking right into me as well as his brows furrow in worry.
“Feeling better?” he inquires.
I nod timidly, even though I could still feel a little clutching in my chest, it doesn’t feel too hard to breathe than before. That’s a relief to find out as well that the beating of my heart slowly returns back to its normal pulse.
Sam seems to realize how awkward and intimate the two of us are that he decides to gently and slowly let go of me, placing me in one fragile glass just on where he previously sat, before returning on. He starts, “I’m sorry. I have countless of things to apologize for.”
“You didn’t tell me that you’re entering UCD. Not to mention at the same course as I do,” I mutter.
He smiles softly. “That’s my fault. We’ve been together for the rest of the day yesterday, and it somehow slipped my mind to tell you. Perhaps I really like surprises.”
“This is the reason why you’ve retired from acting, do you? You wish to enter university peacefully with no one following your trail.”
“It ends up that it doesn’t go as planned. I won’t be surprised if the news has scattered already that I am a College student of UCD, and that you are my childhood friend that I’ve been keeping under their lashes for too long already.”
“What’s wrong with it?”
Sam looks at me with a curious frown. “You’re asking me what’s wrong? Everything. I want some privacy in my life. I thought that after almost three days, the news would die already and that people will finally move on with the fact of my wishes. It appears that I am wrong. I’ve been keeping you from the media knowing about you because I owe your father so much. The two of us knows how much you don’t deserve to be under the watchful eyes of the media. I want to protect you. And the only way I can do that is not to worry about the privacy of your life meddling with the publicity of mine. Believe me, if the news were leaked about this things, people will try to judge you.”
“Whatever we do, people still judge us,” I counter. “We just need to accept that that’s how the world works.”
He places his hands on my shoulders and helplessly looks at me. “I don’t want to destroy your future.”
“You’re not destroying my future. We’re making a future for you where you no longer need to hide.”
“You make it sound way too easy.”
“Because there’s only one way to make it clear to everyone then. You need to face them.”
“I don’t know if I could.”
“You could. You faced a huge crowd before. Right now, you’re answering the questions they have.”
In the silence that followed my words, my phone ringing instantly echoes in the dullness of the fire exit. I and Sam made a long look at each other before I finally reach for it from my backpack and answer it, forgetting to look at the caller’s ID.
I answer, “Hello?”
“ADA!!!” Airin’s voice rings out too loudly that I need to pull away from my phone from my ear for a moment before settling it closer to my ear again. “Breaking news, breaking news! Did you received a text message from a so-called person calling him or herself as ‘Chitchatted UCD Gossip’?”
I cast a look at Sam for a moment. I could bet that he could also hear whatever Airin is saying for him to check his own phone, and almost curses against his breathe, but he freezes in his place, upon seeing something. He furrows his brow for a moment and shows me his phone.
It is a message. The sender’s name doesn’t reflect a series of numbers, but a fixed name.
Comments (0)
See all