Cerice Clairoux

The sun was an imposing orb in the cloudless sky, casting it powerful and warming rays at the beings down in Earth. The rolling sound of waves assuaged my restless thoughts as I was being driven to my first day to university. I looked out the window and watch the sun bathe the sands of the beach with a magnificent radiance. Most of the beach was deserted, a sign that the academic year had started throughout Australia.

"I'm very happy you decided to do something with your life, Cerice," my aunt broke the silence. "At least you'll have something to occupy your mind with."

"Yeah," I replied. My aunt had been kind enough to allow me to stay with her during my holidays and weekends if I did not feel like staying at the university's dorms. The only reason I chose to study in Australia after high school was the fact that finally I was away from my over-protective and possessive parents. They smothered me every day.

"What will you be majoring on?"

"Science," I replied grumpily. My parent's shadow was still looming over me. They were adamant to my decision of studying something art-related and wouldn't have allowed me to study elsewhere if I didn't study science.

"You will do fine," she told me as she was pulling into the drop-off parking. My belongings and stuff had already been taken care of. I got out of the car and waved good-bye to my aunt, promising to visit her soon. She drove away, leaving me alone in this alien place. I squinted through the sunlight and concluded that I was merely a student stranded in university with no money and friends. Not that I had many friends back in France, either.

The heat was beating me down, wearing black skinny jeans and a black top wasn't a good idea after all. I ran the back of my hand through my forehead and noticed beads of perspiration already forming. I shook my head, making my short hair dangle around me. Few students had cast an awkward glance at me but I ignored them and proceed to walk with my eyes cast down. I got into the science building to confirm my schedule, once inside I was greeted by a guy in the reception table. His features were that of a surfer, with golden hair and blue eyes.

"Hey, there pretty," he said, offering me a hand. "The name's Sam."

Pretty. The compliment felt awkward, especially being said by a man. We shook hands. "Hello, Sam," I said, forcing a smile to meet up with his repulsive, blinding grin. I scowled at his cheerful and flirtatious personality. "I came to check out my schedule."

"Sure thing, honey," he winked at me and I cringed. "By the way, I love your hair-do."

Hair-do? I never meant for it to be a hair-do. The red highlights in my hair were meant to be more of a rebellious and artistic expression. I hated him the more. As he was typing in some information to the computer I looked about the room and found a bulletin board full of announcement. One of them caught my eye, it was an afternoon art class taught by a Sasha Tillman. The paper had a photograph of the shadow of a slim woman standing in a ballet pose and next to it a painting of hers. It was a realistic painting of an Australian sunset. I jotted down the address, there was a class this afternoon. Art was very important to me.

"Hey babe, here is your schedule," Sam handed me a paper. I extended my arm and he took advantage of it to take my hand in between his. I quickly recoiled my hand away from him and tried my best not to glower at him. He gave me a smile, "it is a shame we don't share any classes together. I hope we can be friends, Cerice."

"Yeah, sure," I said, folding the paper. I wanted to get the hell out of here.

"I heard french girls were really good in bed," he cocked an eyebrow challengingly, "maybe in a future we shall discover that, don't ya think?"

I gave him a glare full of contempt. "Not. A. Chance." I said and stormed out of the room. I really looked forward for this art class and felt grateful that it was taught by a woman for I wasn't inclined at the morbidity of men when they ran across a pretty girl.

The End

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