The Island of Dragons (Rockpools Book 4) by Gregg Dunnett (best love story novels in english .txt) 📗

bigger. And over the next few days that’s how it goes. That seems to be the pattern that most people are following. Drinking, recovering from drinking (and making a big fuss about how hungover they are), and then this absurd talk about how much sex they’re having, or how they’re going to get lots of sex at the next party. In short, it’s almost exactly like high school was, only a lot messier because there’s no proper adults to clean up.

I guess I’m a bit disappointed, but I’m still hopeful that it’s going to change when the classes actually start, and I get to meet some of the other Marine Biology students. In the meantime I decide not to complain. It’s not that bad. But I’d be lying if I said my first impression of college was great.

My first class is a lecture on Cells: The Building Blocks of Life. It’s my first time actually taking a real class in one of the proper lecture halls, with the steep rows of seating, and the professor at the front behind a lectern. I’m a little bit early when I arrive, and I’m not sure where I should sit. Actually I’m fifteen minutes early, so the theater is empty, which doesn’t give me much to go on. In the end I opt for the second row – near the front but not right at the front, I don’t want to be the class geek. But then there are some geeks who do sit in the front row, as well as lots of more normal students who sit in little groups together in the other parts of the room. I kind of hope someone will come and sit next to me, but no one does. I take notes all the way through. I don’t actually need to, because the whole lecture is incredibly basic stuff, but I feel the lecturer might be offended if I don’t. I’m actually a bit surprised when it’s over and she just leaves, telling us she’ll see us next week. In a way it’s a bit of an anticlimax.

Then I have a gap in my schedule, and later on I have my second class: Introduction to Marine Biology. Again it’s pretty basic, because I’ve been studying this stuff since I was about eleven, but I expect it’ll get tougher pretty quickly. In this class I take the time to look around a bit more. There’s maybe a hundred other students, and most of them look much more serious, at least they’re all writing, or typing things into computers. Which is quite cool I reckon.

The other classes I have are Evolution and Behavior, Biodiversity and Physical and Chemical Processes of the Ocean. Again, none of it is new, or difficult, but I suppose it’s good to have a refresher. And as the days go by I do get to know some of the other students on the courses. In fact, it’s hard to keep track of them all. But while everyone seems nice enough, I guess I’m still a little disappointed too – the Marine Biology students don’t seem very different to the other students I’m meeting, at the parties and at my house. No one seems that committed to the course, it’s more about how much they’re drinking, and how much sex they’re having.

I’m nervous when I get to have my first tutorial with Lawrence. I’ve understood now that he’s only a PhD student who’s doing teaching – that is, he hasn’t even got his doctorate yet, let alone become an actual professor. And at the rate he’s going, I’m not sure if he’ll ever make it. As I suspected when I first met him, he still seems more interested in the girls he’s teaching than about the subject (Marine Ecosystems – could it be more basic?) But it turns out to be a little more interesting than the lectures, because as least we get to answer questions in the tutorials (in fact I end up answering all the questions because none of the other students seem to know very much.) So in a way it’s quite fun.

Then I get a call from Amber telling me we have to meet for lunch. On the one hand it’s hard to believe it’s been two weeks since I last saw her, but on the other I can’t believe it’s been only two weeks.

It’s easier for me to go to her than for her to come down to the campus, since she only gets an hour off from her work and I have large study gaps in my schedule (not that I particularly need them yet). So we meet in Pasta Gusto, which is just across the street from her office.

“So Billy, how’s it going?” She asks, once we’ve both sat down. She’s dyed her hair again, it’s orange now – but only in bits. “How’s my college boy?”

“Good.” There’s a pause, where we smile at each other, but it’s just a tiny bit awkward. “How’s your job?”

“It’s cool. They’re giving me a ton to do, but it’s…” she tips her head to one side. “It’s nice to see you Billy. Really nice.”

For a moment I wonder if she expects me to stand up again and hug her – she kind of sounds like she’s thinking about it, but then gets herself arranged instead, putting a phone I haven’t seen before next to her, and tucking her bag on the seat next to her. Then she spots a waitress and puts her hand up, calling her over.

“You wanna beer?” She smiles. “I know what you students are like.”

“You know what I’m like too,” I reply, then frown. “Are you having one?”

“Can’t. I’m still working.” She orders a coke, and I have the same. “They got me working on this pitch for a re-brand of a bakery. But a big one. And my boss, he keeps having new ideas and getting me to start from scratch.” She gestures to the