"Hello students of Kabala Afrar College. My name is perfessor  Shawn A Jackson. Welocme to writing 122. The last writing class." 

I was half asleep. I heard only couple words. I looked around and I saw some students sleeping; some listening to music; some even watching movies/shows on their little screen tv's. I've never seen someone be into screen little tv's or what my best friend Lumaya likes to call it "cell phones". I still don't understand what they are  but it's something to keep these youngsters busy for hours, at times even as far as days if not years. While everyone was busy in there own little world, I was busy trying to think of what to write next for my first novel. I've had 30 pages down so far. It kept me up for the last 5 days. I have been writing and writing non stop. It's a noval about my life. I want to be an author once I get out of college--- "Ms, Masara!!" yelled Perfoser Adams. "Huh? What?" I said clueless and everyone laughed. I was so embarrassed I shrank and became as small as a baby kitten. "Can I get your attention! If you don't mind I would like to continue teaching but I can't because you are thinking too loud." He said as he walked back to the front of the class. "What? Thinking too loud? What does that even mean?" I thought to myself. I kept quite because I was afraid of what everyone heard. Did they hear everything? I wondered. After 3 hours class was over and boy was I thankful. As much as I love writing it was just a horrible first day so I was ready for the day to end.  As I was walking out of class I heard someone calling or attempting to call my name  "Masra, wait up!" I looked back and it was a guy. Tall probably about 6 feet tall with black soft hair. He was wearing a black leather jacket, blue jeans, black shoes, and a white shirt under neath his jacket. I looked back and pointed at myself thinking who could he be calling, "Masra" to? He nodded. I waited for him to run towards me and he stopped for a min and pointed one finger up meaning give me a second to catch my breath. "Let me first interduce myself. My name is Adam Jackson." "Wait, Adam Jackson?" I said. "Yeah," he said with a little laugh at the end. "Are you, you're not." I said without finishing my sentence. I didn't want to assume he was the son of my writing 122 teacher. "What? Oh if you're saying what I think you are saying than yes I am." 

"The son of professor Adams?" 

"Correct," he said. 

Well that was a surprise. I wonder what he wants I said to my self.