Where Fires Dare to Burn

Chapter 03 - Something You Might Have Mentioned

After a week on campus to get settled into his accommodation, it was time for Luke to do what he actually came here to do. He'd breezed through the first couple of General Education seminars without a hitch, which had settled his nerves, but now the real challenge was about to begin. He glanced down at the piece of paper in his hand headed: ANT 1619: Cultural Anthropology.

This was the first test to see if he really had picked the right path. It made his heart flutter with excitement and trepidation in equal measure. He was here to study for an Anthropology Major, and if he ever wanted to make it to that major, he needed to rack up credits in these groundwork courses.

People fascinated him, their quirks and cultural eccentricities. He always marvelled at the divergence of human societies, from continent to continent, country to country, and even from city to city. The trail of breadcrumbs that you could trace back through history to pinpoint just where those forked roads were laid down, that was what had snared Luke's imagination for the longest time.

His bag hung on his shoulder, crammed with formidable textbooks and a laptop, heavy with the weight of what it represented. Luke steeled himself, straightening up. Other worlds waited beyond that door. He reached out, clasped the handle and pushed.

The hinges didn't make a sound and he almost tripped forward from the lack of resistance as the door swung open. He caught himself in the nick of time, straightening up and inhaling a sharp breath as he released the handle. Thankfully, no-one seemed to notice his near-miss and he crossed the threshold, pivoting to face the front desk. The tutor – a middle-aged man with a bald head and an impressive bush of a grey beard bristling around his mouth – straightened up and looked at him expectantly. His waistcoat and trousers boasted a colourful crimson of tweed.

"Good morning. Name?"

"Luke Arbor," he said, trying to speak at a normal pace.

The tutor glanced back at his screen for a moment then nodded. "Welcome to Cultural Anthropology, Mr. Arbor. I'm Doctor Maresfield. You downloaded the introductory material?"

Luke patted his bag and nodded. "Got it all right here."

"Then grab a pick a desk and get settled." Maresfield gestured to the room and his attention fled. Luke turned.

Ten desks were arranged in pairs facing the front desk, and a dozen students were already sitting, chatting animatedly as the minutes ticked down for the class to start. A couple of them glanced up – one or two even offered a wave or smile. Luke smiled back but before he knew what he was doing, sat down at the desk on the front left of the room, turning his back to the other students in a moment of nervousness. He sank into the seat, feeling blood rush to his cheeks.

It's just the first class, it's just the first class.

Luke blew out his cheeks in a sigh and started to dig around in his bag. He deposited three textbooks onto the desk, followed by a rickety looking laptop he'd picked up second-hand. It didn't look like much, but it would do the job for his coursework. Ready to go, he relaxed back against his chair, pulling up the introductory notes and skimming over them yet again as the minutes ticked by. As they approached eleven o'clock more students trickled into the room, moving past him and filling the room from the back. That didn't bother him unduly. He knew it was his own fault for inexplicably planting himself right at the front of the room – the proverbial hot seat – but the swell of voices behind him did lend a sense of exclusion to the whole exercise. He drummed his fingers on the desk, willing the second hand on the clock to move a little faster

At two minutes to eleven the door opened again, and one last student entered the classroom.

Luke looked up.