Foto bij 662 - Emma

It's strange, being back on campus after all of these free weeks, and it's even stranger knowing I might run into Lucien at any point in time.
I know I will, because he'll be in my third and second-to last lecture of the day, which means I'll get to find his face in a crowd of people. Until then, I'll just follow the same old procedure I've followed for all of my first classes of the term - introduce myself, the subject, let everyone know when their deadlines will be and where they can find me if they really need to.
It's become such a routine for me with new students and new courses, it hardly feels scary anymore, though it's always a little tense for the first few seconds or maybe even minutes, trying to get a feel of the group of people in front of you.
I spend one of my lunch breaks in a supervisor's office, not because I want to, but to adress what Lucien and I found out this morning - that he'll be in one of my classes, even though I've filed an official report detailing our relationship the moment he enrolled. They assure to me that there is no need for me to worry, as one of my colleagues will grade half of that class' essays and tests, and will grade Lucien's as well.
With a cup of coffee still in hand and my sandwich hastily eaten in between the office and the big lecture hall, I open up another powerpoint presentation on my laptop, carefully plugged into the beamer. My background picture, usually being a photo of me and Lucien, has been changed to a simple photo of Frank, as to not raise any suspicion. It may have been handled well, I still don't want to alarm anyone, and I'd love for Lucien to have a peaceful start, or restart, of his education.
Slowly, students are starting to pile in. It's easy to find the stereotypes - the eager ones, sitting in the front, brand new notebooks ready to be filled with every word I say. The rich kids, with their Macbooks and their Starbucks coffees, a pair of expensive sunglasses carelessly shoved into their hair, only here because their parents want them to. The loud kids, who will chat through all of my sentences, in the back.
One face stands out in particular, though, and I try my very best not to grin when I watch him take a seat pretty much in the middle of the room, impossible for me to miss. There's some people around in, though no one seems to follow him because he's Lucien du Castellon, which is good.
When the doors close and the buzzer sounds, signalling for my lecture to start, I clear my throat. The microphone turns on when I flip the switch, and so does the screen.
"Good afternoon," I smile, most eyes immediately on me. "And welcome to your first lecture on Civil Procedure. My name is Emmeline Middleton, and I will be your professor for this course - for some of you, you might only see me this one term, others will be luckier and will see me all year, depending on how quickly you manage to pass both your exams and the essay."
I take a quick peek at the screen.
"Do not worry about those, though. If you pay enough attention to what I tell you and the assignments you get from me, you should be able to pass with flying colours. Speaking of which," I tap to the next slide. "Please do the homework. It's not a lot, and I won't grade it like teachers in high school did, but it's simply to understand what I'm telling you, and to prepare you for the exam that's in October - date on screen. Unlike some of my colleagues you may have already seen, I don't give out busy work. I'm aware you guys have a life besides university, and to be quite honest, so do I. You can eat and drink in my class, just don't be too loud and if you bring chocolates, please do share. If you don't care or don't think you need to pay attention, you're free to leave - you're here voluntarily. Which also means: please don't yap through everything I'm saying. If you have a question, feel free to either raise your hand or, if that's too much pressure, which I totally understand, send me an e-mail - my e-mail adress is," I start writing on the whiteboard, my hands moving faster than my brain, and before I even realise it, I've already gotten half of the surname du Castellon written out. Luckily, my back hides it from most of the class, and I erase it quickly, loudly talking as I do so. "this. That's E.M. Middleton, if you e-mail E. Middleton, you'll find one of my friendly colleagues over in biology. Nice man, but not the one to explain the doctrine of collateral estoppel to you."
I turn back to the class, surprised to find most of them still either looking at me or writing things down.
"As some background information on me and why I'm here - I graduated top of my class from this university a few years ago, was a junior associate for one of Scotland's biggest law firms, and am very passionate about my field of work," I smile. "I work mondays through thursdays, which means friday is my day off and I won't be here, nor will I be replying to e-mails. Now, I'll go over this term with you guys quickly, so you know what to expect, and there'll be some space to ask questions if need be."

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