The Hockey Lie

Chapter 3

TY

August 24

"Ugh," I groaned as my alarm went off. It was seven in the morning, and I am not a morning person. "Why did I sign up for an 8 a.m. class?"

"Because all the other classes were filled up, I'm assuming," chirped Steph.

"How long have you been up?" I asked her, yawning, as I climbed out of my bottom bunk.

"Oh, about an hour. I woke up before my alarm," Steph replied.

"I take it you're a morning person?"

"Yup," she smiled. "And I take it you're not?"

"Nope," I laughed. "Well, I guess today's the day we officially start our college classes. What time does your first class start?"

"Eight, same as yours," Steph replied.

"What class do you have?" I asked.

"I have English. What about you?"

"Intro to Psychology," I groaned.

"You don't sound too excited for that," noted Steph.

"No, I'm not. When we did a psychology unit in health class my freshman year, I hated it. Well, I hated health class in general, but that was because my teacher was a weirdo. She seriously shouldn't have been teaching, she was so insane."

"Maybe it was just the teacher that made you not like psychology," suggested Steph.

"Yeah, that's probably it. I hope I have a good teacher. Maybe I'll end up liking the class."

"Well, you should probably go into the class with a positive attitude. That always helps."

"Yeah, that's true. I'm just not sure I can do that since I'm already grumpy that I'm up this early," I groaned, looking at the clock. "I hate mornings."

"Well, hurry up. You don't have much time to get ready if you're going to want to eat breakfast and make it to class on time," Steph chided.

"All right, all right, I'm getting up," I grumbled. "I'm so lucky to have you as a roommate or else I would've never made it to class on time."

"I do what I can," smiled Steph.

***

An hour later, I found myself entering my first college class: psychology, the class that I believed I would hate the most. Looking around, I saw absolutely nobody that I recognized, which was to be expected. I had only met a few people so far since I moved in. I looked to my right and spotted a girl in a blue crewneck sitting towards the middle, so I decided to go sit by her.

"Hi, I'm Tyra," I introduced myself as I sat down next to her.

"I'm Michaela," she replied with a smile.

"What are you majoring in?" I asked her.

"Pre-pharmacy," she replied. "How about you?"

"Exercise Science. I want to become a physical therapist."

"That's pretty cool. I hate how we're required to take this class when it pretty much has nothing to do with our future careers," she complained.

"I know, right!" I agreed. "I hated psychology in high school, and I'm pretty sure I'll hate it here."

"Well, you never know. Maybe our professor will be pretty cool," Michaela suggested, trying to be positive.

"Yeah, maybe," I replied. Just then, our professor walked into class. I guess we were about to find out what he was like.

My first impression of the professor was bad. The professor looked to be about forty, and his hair was an absolute mess. He was wearing khakis that were at least one size too big for him with a burnt orange polo that looked about two sizes too small. Oh, and he was wearing Sperrys. Yes, my forty-year-old professor was wearing Sperrys.

"All right, class. I know why most of you are here," the professor started.

"Why's that?" called some guy from the corner of the classroom.

"Well, most of you are here to get credit for this class because it is required. Am I right?"

We all just sat there and stared at him.

"Well, all right then. You college kids don't appear to be morning people." He continued, "Anyway, I'm Professor Robinson, and I'll be teaching you the oddities of the mind. Psychology is a beautiful subject. It's a way to explore the mind in a way you never thought possible. This semester, you'll be learning the basics of the brain and mental illnesses. You'll also be learning other things, but you'll learn more about that later. Oh, and also, this semester you'll get the opportunity to discover why people act the way they do. Take athletes, for example. Once you take a step back and really examine these people, you'll notice that they all have one thing in common. It doesn't matter their age or gender. All athletes are extremely arrogant and egotistical. They care about nobody except themselves."

During Professor Robinson's lecture, Michaela and I had exchanged some weird glances. Who did this guys think he was? It appeared to me that he was a complete nutcase, just as I had feared.

"In this class, you'll get to explore why athletes are such terrible people and why they have no respect for others," the professor continued.

"Excuse me?" I burst out. Everyone in the class stared at me.

"What is your problem?" Professor Robinson questioned me.

"How can you be a professor of psychology and just stand up there and insult people that you clearly know nothing about? Yes, I'll agree that some athletes have ego problems, but they all aren't like that," I explained.

"Yes, they all are. Clearly you haven't had enough experience with the world," he replied snootily.

"No, I have plenty of experience with athletes myself. I was a hockey player in high school, and none of the players on my team had an ego problem. We all cared for each other dearly and respected each other and everyone else, for that matter," I continued, unwilling to back down.

"Yes, you respected each other because you were all the same kind. You were all athletes."

"That has nothing to do with anything!" I exclaimed, frustrated. "Athletes are not all the same just as people aren't all the same. Each athlete has his or her own specific traits, whether respect and arrogance are present in an athlete depends on which one you're talking about."

"What's your name?" the professor asked.

"Tyra Brady," I replied, narrowing my eyes.

"Well, Tyra, this is my class and while you are in it, you will respect my opinions and keep your mouth shut if you want to pass," Professor Robinson said gravely.

"Oh, so since I don't agree with you I'm not allowed to voice my thoughts? Isn't that a violation of the first amendment?" I questioned.

"Again, this is my class, and you will follow my rules, whether you like them or not. Plus I'm the one with a degree here, not you. I suggest that you shut up about your opinions on athletes so you don't get yourself in more trouble than you already have." I didn't reply to the professor, but I did give him a nasty look for the rest of the class. As soon as the class was over, I grabbed my stuff and hurried out.

"Oh my gosh, I can't believe that guy. How the heck did he manage to get a degree in psychology?" I vented to Michaela as we walked outside.

"I don't know. He seems pretty messed up in the head. I mean, he has a degree in psychology. How on earth can he generalize people like that? Isn't he supposed to know that the brain is a complex thing and that everyone is different?" Michaela said, agreeing with me.

"I know I'm probably overreacting about what he said back there, but his generalization of athletes really hits home. My boyfriend is a hockey player that used to have an ego issue, but he changed. That just goes to show that Professor Robinson is wrong," I said.

"Yeah. I can't believe that the U hired him to teach. Did you see what he was wearing? His clothes didn't fit and he was wearing Sperrys. He's, like, forty. Forty-year-old men shouldn't be allowed to wear Sperrys on a college campus," Michaela stated.

"I agree with you 100%," I replied.

"Okay, enough about that doofus. I think we can both agree that it's going to be a long semester with him," sighed Michaela.

"Right," I agreed. "So where's your dorm at?"

"I'm in Centennial Hall on the fifth floor," replied Michaela.

"Really? I'm in Centennial Hall, too!" I exclaimed.

"Cool! We should hang out sometime," Michaela suggested.

"Yeah, that would be fun. I'll bring my roommate, Steph. I think you'd really like her," I said.

"I'll bring my roommate, too. She used to play hockey like you, I think. You guys would probably get along really well."

"It sounds like it," I said. We continued to chat as we made our way back to the dorms.

When we reached Centennial Hall, Michaela said, "Well, I'll probably see you around. If not, I'll see you at the next psychology class."

"Whoop de doo," I said sarcastically, then laughed. "I'm glad I sat by you this morning. You and I seem to be a lot alike. I'm in room 355 if you need me."

"Cool. I'll probably stop by sometime this week. I might need help comprehending the chapters Robinson is making us read," groaned Michaela.

"Don't remind me," I replied. "Well, I'll see you later."

"Bye," replied Michaela as I stepped out of the elevator.

As I walked back to my dorm, I thought about how awful Professor Robinson really was. I was glad that I had met Michaela so I'd at least have someone to complain to that would understand what I was going through.

It's going to be a long semester, I thought to myself.