Learning to love me

Ciara's POV

I've been to the Grand Canyon's North Rim many times, and I can't even count them. I asked my parents to take me there for my 18th birthday, and although I've already been twice, I'm excited to go again. My dream is coming true in a week. I finished my Bachelor's degree in Art History in June, and after a stressful summer of interviews and applications, I got accepted to Princeton. My friends don't get why I don't want a break or why I want a Master's in Archaeology and Painting. While they're ready to start working, I'm more into the academic side. I guess it's the European in me, wanting to be part of academia and earn a proper Master's degree.

As I was packing my whole life into suitcases, I scanned the old books I kept in folders. I had saved every book about different mythologies since I was twelve, ever since I made up my mind I'd want to become an archeologist and pursue that professionally. I kept them not only for their sentimental value but also for research purposes, as I wanted to visit every site of mythological significance and also do more research about things yet discovered.

I also wanted to become rich and famous. Oh well, a girl can dream.

I put some of them in one of the suitcases. I wasn't sure when I'd be back home, so I wanted to take them to remind me of how far I had come.

As I packed them neatly, my phone started buzzing.

It was my ex, Jack. Well, he was my first ex.

"Hey, I heard you're leaving in a week," he said through the phone, "I want to see you before you go. God knows when I'll be seeing you again, you're moving so far away."

I really liked Jack. We were each other's first loves. We started dating when we were 13, but it didn't work out between us. It's not like we had a big disagreement and broke things off. We just fell out of love, but still remained good friends.

"Yeah, I'm so excited to be going to Princeton. It's the perfect college to pursue painting, it's so well-ranked. And yeah, sure, let's meet up sometime." I said, cheerily inviting him over. Although there was no definite time mentioned; I still looked forward to meeting with him again.

"Awesome." I could hear the shuffling of chairs and a clink of porcelain on glass. He probably took a seat for a cup of coffee. "I heard Princeton was an old convent that had been abandoned and the State just remodeled it and turned it into a university—is that true?"

"Well, i don't know how true that is but I'm sure the Battle of Princeton took place near the university's Nassau Hall.

"I bet it'll give you loads of inspiration. But anyway, what lectures will you be taking?" He asked. He was not a myth enthusiast himself, he was more into economics, but he still wanted to know what I was up to.

"We'd be doing quite a lot that I can't spell out on the phone, it's a long list of activities. We'll be studying Egyptian mythology and we'll be analyzing sites where mummies have been excavated and why those places were chosen,, painting complex ideas, and lots of other boring stuff."

"Doesn't sound boring to me sincerely" He said.

"Well, it covers such a broad time span, It's gonna be a pain in the ass," I said, folding some shirts and placing them in my suitcase. "But anyway, these are the lectures of the first semester. Then the real work starts. We have a final Master's project, the equivalent to a thesis in the second semester."

"Oh, je suis désolé, c'est dur! Seems like you've got the work cut out for you, CiCi." Jack said in his perfect French. Jack is a French immigrant like I am. Maybe that's why we clicked when we first met so many years ago.

"Yes, but I'm excited anyway," I said, smiling through the phone. "Anyway, I'll talk to you later. I have to finish packing. Thanks for calling! I'll text you when I'm free."

He chuckled a little, "Alright, goodbye Ciara."

I hung up the phone and finished my laborious task. I zipped up the bag, as it was thoroughly packed with my belongings; and that was when I received an email, the notification appearing on my phone's notification screen. I unlocked my device and opened the app; it was from one of the professors of the school, Prof. Rufus Woodley. The subject was "Reading Materials - Art History Course 2022/2023". I opened the email, a little surprised that we were already receiving emails from professors.

"Dear students,

For your Art History Course, I expect you to come prepared to every lecture by reading the papers assigned for each one. You can find them on the e-learning platform. As you have surely noticed, the syllabus is extensive and demanding, and even though I expect many of you to know some topics from your previous studies, this course won't be easy. For your first lecture, I'll be asking students at random to answer questions from the first paper. I will be doing this every lecture for every single paper. If you think you won't be able to keep up with the demand, I suggest you drop the class now. There are plenty of other courses to choose from to get an easy A.

See you all next Monday.

Prof. Rufus Woodley."

My eyes widened at the email. Who the hell was this Prof. Woodley? This was such an awful way to "introduce" himself to the class. He didn't have to be so intense, especially before meeting us in person.

I searched for his profile on the University's website. His page had no image, but his resumé was extensive. He was most probably one of those old, grumpy, lifeless professors who found joy in tormenting students. He probably gave awful grades too.

I'd find out soon enough what this Prof. Woodley was all about.