Screw him! I was absolutely not happy about this stupid situation, but I decided that I would honestly sit out the first meeting with him, so that the management would not have any complaints about me. This, frankly speaking, idiotic idea of the rector did not like anyone, and most of all me. All the bumps fell on me. I told myself that I would obey the rector's order and go to the meeting with Cedric Morgan. But why did I get him out of all the seniors in our department? Why am I being punished like this? I think I'm going to hang myself after my first class. My classmates congratulated me and tried to switch "tutors," but when they found out that the pairs were personally sealed by the rector, they just smiled enviously. Envious of what? I'd gladly swap Morgan for any other senior student! If I had the chance! But there wasn't.
At five o'clock on Friday night, I sat in the library, at table number eight, and waited for Cedric Morgan. I had already borrowed the physics books I needed, and every now and then I looked at my watch. And I was silently getting angry.
Half past six. Morgan was still gone. But I waited stubbornly, telling myself to do my time and leave. Whether he came or not, I didn't care!
The round wall clock in the library read six.
He didn't come.
I was seething with anger. The bastard! Where the hell had he been?
I decided that if Morgan didn't show up in five minutes, I was going to leave. Doesn't want to come? Great! Then I'd have an objective reason to refuse his "help" in the chancellor's office!
I crossed my arms on the table, rested my head on them, and mentally counted down the five minutes. Three minutes and seven seconds later, I heard: "Hello," carelessly dropped by a pleasantly low voice.
Wow! He'd managed to come after all!
My lectures were over at sixteen o'clock (a boringly long time), and, afterwards, I went to the nearest park, made myself comfortable on a bench, took a book of Thomas Mann's musings out of my backpack, and began reading with pleasure, at the same time thinking with immense satisfaction and schadenfreude about how the unknown Viper was freaking out waiting for me in the library. It was a tremendous feeling of revenge against the pimply-faced human youth who had been terribly unlucky enough to be my ward. Though he was wrapped up in the deadly sin of not knowing physics, and if he had known it properly, I wouldn't have had to spend my precious time pounding this elementary, logically correct information into his stupid head. Perhaps Viper is so stupid that nothing can save him now.