Rowena Adams sat alone in the small empty classroom, on the right in the front. It was her normal spot if she was aloud to choose where she would sit. White walls were bare except for the Student Goverment Association approved bullentin boardand the pencil sharpener. There were a few filing cabinets nearest the door, the black and tan paint had been worn away from years of use. The blackboards had hardly been used, not unusual for the first day of the semester. This would be the setting for her College Algebra class this semester.
She was dressed in the typical college uniform. A pair of faded blue jeans that hugged her curves in just the right places, yet were baggy enough to hide her legs. A black tank top with spaghetti straps hid under the flannel shirt with its red and black plaid print tied around her waist. Her scuffed up but ever faithful doc Martiens completed the grunge look. A beat up brown leather bomber jacket had been thrown on the back of the chair the right shoulder barely hanging on to the plastic chair back.
She was way too early for her 6 p.m. College Algebra class. Thanks to a computer glitch this would be the class for the semester. It was just her luck to have only one class for the semester, luck had never been good to her. She had a good fifteen minutes before anyone began to show up. Pulling out one of her many sketchbooks, she began her sketch for another page in her own comic book series. Pulling out some of the faces of some of her past classmates, she became so focused on her drawing that she failed to notice that the fifteen minutes were gone and the class had filled up around her.
Richie Ryan, college freshman, sprinted across campus at a dead run. Whoever was to blame for the distance between these last two classes was gonna get a peice of his mind. Glancing at his watch as he barreled through the double doors, he saw he had two minutes until the start of class. He knew he was going to be late.
Half-jogging, Richie hurried down the hall glancing periodically at the paper in his hand. Room 315...316...317. Oops, that was it! Attempting to stop, Richie felt his feet slide on the slick floor and made a grab for the door frame on his way by. Just then the professor appeared in the opening, reaching to close the door. Richie apologized to the man as he attempted to explain his tardiness, but the professor just nodded his head, replying it happened quite a bit and then gestured for Richie to take a seat.
Richie glanced around at the class, it was smaller than most his classes that day. For one thing it wasn't a lecture hall. It was a room similar to most of his High school classrooms. He didn't see a student aid, which ment that the professor would be doing most of the work.
Richie strightened getting a faint buzz from someone in the room; someone in this class was a pre-immortal or had just become an immortal not too long ago. Looking at the other attentive faces in the class, as they were surveying him he didn't notice the panicked expression that he had seen on most new immortals' faces.
Richie looked around and saw that there was only one seat empty, beside a girl who was busy sketching in a book. Nearing her, the faint buzz grew slightly stronger. The dark hair, and from the breif and hurried glance she gave him, her eye were green. She barely noticed him as he took a seat. He took the opportunity to catch his breath as the professor began the opening day lecture. While the syllabus was passed out along with a tentative schedule of the fourteen-week course, Richie's mind trvaeled back to what had brought him here.
Richie had gotten the subtle hints that Mac still wanted him to go to college. The volume of the mail which the Young Immortal recived had grown considerably. Most of the envelopes were large, heavy, and laden with paperwork. All of which were addressed to the name Ryan Richardson on it, Richie obviously got the hint. Duncan had sent away for numerous catalogs and packets. Richie couldn't see arguing with the Elder Immortal life was kind of empty even with his job.
Here they all were, Joe, Methos, Duncan and himself at Duncan's Loft sitting around drinking beer and eating pizza. Plates laying around with peices of pizza in various eaten stages, napkins scattered among the beer bottles sitting on the coffee table. Each had a stack of catalogs from various colleges from around the states and some were even from overseas. The three older men were trying to help him narrow down his choices.
Methos held up one from the University of Avalon and remarked, "Is this a hint that you want one of us to watch the brat?"
"Brat?" Richie asked.
"Hey," Joe said with a grin. "Methos, lay off of him. He did better than you did on the SAT."
"It's a multiple choice test. It was sheer luck that his score was higher than mine," Methos shot back at the Watcher.
"Look, Richie, you should go back to school. I donít care what you study," Duncan said.
"Iíd think about pre-med," Methos said with a smirk. "that does take a lot of time."
"I thought about something like accounting," Richie said looking around at them. "An accountant can find a job anywhere."
"At least he's thought about it," Methos muttered.
"You enjoy keeping my books?" Duncan asked with a grin.
"Not really, but I thought it would be something I could take with me, so to speak."
It had only taken them a few days before they decided that Ball State University would be a good choice. Joe suggested that there weren't many Immortals in Indiana at the moment. Most of Immortals were in bigger cities, like Pairs, New York, and London. Indiana would a great place for Richie to be minimaly involved in the Game. Duncan agreed with the Watcher, it would be best if Richie were in a area that had a low population of Immortals so he could get his education. Methos knew someone teaching there that Richie could contact if there was trouble. Richie saw that the universtity had a good selection of programs he could choose from. They had went through enough pizza and beer that Richie would be glad if he didn't see either of them for a while.