Scandalous Read Free Page B

spread
out over the week. I've been waiting impatiently for this
timetable so that I can organise my life and structure it.
I'll be able to carry on working as well as doing my
studies. I can call the telesales company first thing
tomorrow morning to go over my hours of work.
    The whole process was quite speedy and they were
quick to give me my timetable but I'm now late for my
first commitment. A glance at the piece of paper tells me
I need to get to the third floor for a lecture on Spanish
civilisation. I run up the stairs, eager to learn.
    I slip into the room quietly – the other students are
already sitting at desks – and mumble an inaudible 'Sorry
I'm late.' The lecturer flicks his eyes over me and picks
his register back up.
    'And you are?'
    'Laura, Laura D.'
    He scribbles something on the page and nods at me to
sit down. I choose a chair next to another girl; there are
many more girls than boys in the room, and probably in
the whole year group.
    The lecturer asks us to fill out a form so that he can
get to know us. Another wretched form! So far it's not
so different from school; they're bound to ask for one in
every lesson. By the end of the week I'll be doing them
in two seconds flat.
    The form includes a space for 'career plans'. I ponder
this question for a long time. Do I know what I really
want to do? I want to go into business, yes, but in what
field exactly? I've got very clear ideas about the sort of
responsibilities that would suit me best but is there a
recognised name, a particular job description for that? I
write down all my dreams, reveal my every expectation
for this stranger. Something's missing.
    I chew my pencil and gaze up at the ceiling. A few
minutes later I add the last few words to my inventory
of dreams for the future:
    Live life to the full .
    Of course, this isn't the sort of reply the lecturer is
expecting, if he actually is expecting anything in particular,
but it's the most appropriate one for me.
    The lecture begins and, with every passing minute, I
thank my lucky stars for the gift of being here in this
room. My mother had to shell out more than 400 euros
for me to be here but she did it without a moment's
hesitation, knowing full well my future depended on it –
she's always wanted the best for her daughters. I'm going
to learn and I'm going to do well.
    The whole lecture is given in Spanish. My father is
Spanish and, even though he's never spoken to me in his
mother tongue, I've learned it when we've spent holidays
with his family.
    The lecturer hands out a sheet with a list of books
we'll need for the year.
    'I need you to be very conscientious. If you want to do
well, you'll have to read all of them, and read them
carefully, making lots of notes.'
    I drink in his words. Yes, of course I'll read them all,
I've always loved reading, that's no problem!
    'There are some you won't find in the library. I keep
asking for them but they never seem to come so you'll
have to pay for them yourselves, come to some agreement
to share them . . .'
    Erm, that bit isn't quite so appealing. Foreign language
books are always very expensive, at least fifteen euros
each, and if I've got to buy several I'll never be able to
cover the cost.
    I look at the sheet, worried about how exhaustive it is,
and grind my teeth when I see there are about ten books
that need buying. I shove it into my bag quickly, not
wanting it to ruin the day. There's plenty of time to think
about it later.
    'On another note, I won't tolerate repeated unjustified
absence. After three absences I will not allow you to sit
the exam in my subject.'
    That's clear, to the point and precise. It's my choice if
I really want to succeed or not. The ball's in my court.
    The hour is soon over; I wasn't bored for a single
second, not like school when I checked my watch every
five minutes. I go to the next lecture and this time I see
a proper amphitheatre for the first time. I'm so impressed
it takes my breath away, and I'm not the only one: