s t o r m y  e y e s
COVEY'S POV:

Holy dino chicken nuggets.

All I can say is: Dang, my English professor. That's it. Just, Dang. I'm not sure if that's a good dang or a bad dang, but holy dino chicken nuggets—dang.

He walks into the brightly lit auditorium as soon as the clock strikes 10:00 a.m. with a couple of papers in his hand, eyes scanning over the pages intensely, and he starts to speak gibberish without lifting his nose from the crisp whiteness. "Hello," his voice is deep and flat, echoing against the classroom walls, "my name is Conrad Monroe, and I will be your English professor in Creative Writing this term. Call me Sir, Professor, or Dr. Monroe. I will not tolerate being called by my first name."

And he has a hot name. I think holy huckleberry, yes.

"I expect to see you give me a hundred and ten percent, nothing more and nothing less. Anyone who cares to break my expectations is more than welcome to leave the room." Professor Monroe takes this as his opportunity to finally draw an image of his audience, his sharp eyes flickering over the flood of students. "Any takers?"

No one dares to move a muscle.

"Great. Hopefully I have a classroom full of students who came here to get a degree and write captivating papers. If not, this is just a waste of my time and yours."

I catch the color of his hard stare, and his eyes just so happen to be a deep, stormy gray color. Fitting enough.

"I'll start today off with an attendance count so I can put a name to a face, and we'll go from there. Sound good?" He gives us a curt nod even though no one answers.

While he's listing off the names of different students, I lean back against my chair and get a deeper look at him. He has jet black hair that's neatly slicked back, piercing gray eyes that look like they're living daggers, his nose was for sure sculpted by the great Michelangelo, his white button down shirt fit snug but not too snug around his lean physique, but what bothered me was the way his cupid's bow curled so perfectly but never etched a smile.

In fact, the way he talked, the way he held his chin up high, the way he said everyone's name like it was a chore—that bothered me. But he was hot. And distracting. And his lips were the only thing I could concentrate on. It takes me three more seconds after this semester-altering thought to realize that Dang, my English professor is way too good looking.

Like Vogue magazine kind of good looking.

Definitely not a good dang.

"Covey Jensen," he deadpans like he did with every other name.

"Here," I say, my voice raising an octave unexpectedly. I clear my throat. "But I like to go by Coco or Cove or I guess Covey is okay too." Why do I have to ramble?

"Alright, Miss Jensen." He raises an eyebrow and cocks his head to the side in... amusement?

I tilt my own head like a confused dog.

His eyes narrow for a moment and he nods to himself before snapping out of it and moving on to the next name. And it goes like this for at least a few more minutes—him saying a name, matching a face, stealing a glance at me—until he runs out of names to read aloud and he turns his back to us to write something on the big whiteboard behind him.

He starts talking about the syllabus, the coursework, workload, etcetera etcetera. Things only the ancient dinosaurs need to know about. Yes, my dino chicken nuggies.

"Since it's the first day of lectures, the assignment will be an introductory paper. I want you to write a one-page memoir of a time in your life where you've had to think about who you are. For example, what your identity is, who you want to be, why you are who you are. One page, nothing more and nothing less. Understood?"

This time, the other students nod their heads in agreement.

The guy next to me, Venice Harper, leans over and nudges my shoulder. "He seems a little intense, huh?"

"I think intense is an understatement, or just the nice way to put it," I observe, glancing over at him. "I don't understand how someone can go so long without smiling. It seems miserable. And sad. And I think he has daddy issues." Wait what?

"Oh, I'm sure." Venice lets out a low chuckle and crosses his foot over his knee. "I'm definitely gonna hate this class. But if you're here, maybe I'll have something to look forward to."

I laugh and blush and become an awkward mess because I have terrible social skills, and I go to open my mouth, but someone clears their throat. When my gaze drifts to the mean looking man, I shrink in my seat a little.

"Something funny, Miss Jensen?"

"No, Sir." I bite my lower lip in nerves, looking anywhere but his eyes. "I'm just awkward and stuff." And does that apply to his question?

"Well nobody said you could talk," Professor Monroe says, his jaw twitching.

"I'm pretty sure the US Constitution states that I have the freedom of speech—" I shut my mouth when I realize I just back-talked him. Oopsies. I want to disappear. Someone please dig me a grave six-feet deep.

I earn a few snickers from my classmates and a glare from Dr. Monroe. "What'd you say?"

"It's just that the First Amendment has five basic freedoms granted to citizens, and one of those freedoms is the right to free speech." I shake my head. "At least I think it's one of the five basics—wait—I don't know. Nevermind, I forgot. My apologies."

"Did you sign up for a government class or a writing course?" he asks, raising a not-so-nice eyebrow at me. Why do men always have the better eyebrows? They were nice and thick and full and—oh my god I need to stop looking at this man.

"Sorry, I'll be quiet," I mumble, playing with my fingers under the desk.

He eyes me for a moment and I can tell he's picking me apart inside his horrible and judgmental mind, and then he starts talking as if nothing happened. I'm gonna die in this class.

******

When the lecture ends, I try my hardest to slip out of the class without being seen.

"Covey."

Hearing his cold tone makes my legs feel like jelly.

Turning around, I gulp and look up into his gray eyes. He's a lot taller than I thought. "Professor Monroe."

His lips press into a fine line and he waits for the rest of the students to file out of the auditorium before speaking. "Miss Jensen, I didn't like your behavior in class today."

"Well, no one necessarily said you had to like it," I reply, my hazel eyes innocently meeting his glare. "I mean, I'm sorry that you didn't like it. It's a shame. I tried to explain—"

"You disrespectfully interrupted my lecture and then gave me an attitude about it," he continues, crossing his arms over his chest. "And you're still giving me an attitude about it."

I inhale and exhale, and inhale again. "Listen, Conrad Monroe," I pause for a second, appreciating his name. Still a hot name. "I was just stating my case."

"Just save your explanations and opinions for your assignments, and don't disrupt my class." He gestures to the room around us. "When I'm standing down here, no one is to speak but me. That is, unless I ask for audience participation. If you fail to remember that as you continue attending my lectures, there will be consequences. I like to feel respected."

"Oh, um, of course... consequences," I say, trying to clear my throat. "And not to say anything offensive, but if you were to smile a little more maybe people would feel inclined to be friendly to you." I try my hardest to refrain from reaching up and stretching his cheeks into a smile.
Oh my, I'm weird.

His glare deepens. "Go, now."

I purse my lips together and try to swallow air. "And Dr. Monroe?"

"Yes, Covey?" The way his voice is so deep and manly.

Okay, I seriously need to stop this.

"You can stop glaring at me," I voice, giving him a witty smile before turning on my heels to leave the lecture hall.

******

At night, I open my laptop and begin my writing assignment for Professor Monroe's class. And like every time I'm given an opportunity to write my thoughts down for the greater good, my fingers dance along the keyboard in thoughtfulness.

They say I'm immature, but I think I just care to appreciate life for what it is...

******
AUTHOR'S NOTE:

Ah, welcome to the first chapter- I literally always hate writing intro chapters, so bear with me on this one XD

I'd appreciate it if you voted and commented! And it wouldn't hurt to add COVEY  to your reading list <3

I love you all, like I love love love you.