Disclaimer: Victorious and all of its associated copyrights are not my property and I stake no claim to them.

A/N: There is truly no real rhyme or reason as to why I wrote this, other than I was trying to kick a bit of writer's block, and a few stray thoughts started to converge. Review and let me know what you thought of it, I'd love to have some opinions.

Pencils on paper. Quiet whispers. Keystrokes on a laptop.

Even the methodical ticking of the clock on the wall a few seats down was deafening.

To an outsider, the room was quiet, aside from the professor's voice. To me, it was like standing in the middle of a packed sports stadium.

I focused my entire being on hearing the words he spoke. His hands moved wildly, as if he were directing an orchestra, enunciating his points. His orchestra only consisted of one instrument, and one musician. The musician was the mind, and the instrument was existentialism.

"...And that, is why I will leave you with this; a first impression is made within ten seconds of meeting someone. You have ten seconds to prove to a person that you are worth their time. An employer, a friend, a lover. It is up to you, ladies and gentlemen, to prove yourself. What would you do in those ten seconds, if you knew that person would lead to the next, and final stage of your life? The person you are, right now, in this moment, is that who you want someone to meet?" He stood still, his hands behind his back, his eyes moving to each and every person in the room. I counted exactly ten seconds until he spoke again, "You are all dismissed."

Everyone around me gathered their things quickly and rushed toward the exit. I took my time, and left once most others were long gone.

I walked the same path as I had done every other Wednesday afternoon since beginning the course. I took the same steps I always did.

Someone was in my path. I only noticed after we'd run into each other, as neither of us seemed to be paying close attention to our surroundings.

1

I looked up at the intruder. I saw an unzipped backpack, and a hand holding a book – the justification for the lack of regard to my strict routine.

2

I then studied the face. A woman, Hispanic, a flawless face. I had to look up at her.

3

Her eyes registered surprise, then shame, and then finally they shined with a radiance I'd never quite experienced before.

4

She smiled at me, apologetically, and tilted her head slightly. The book disappeared into her floral printed backpack, which was then slung over her shoulder.

5

"I'm so sorry, I was trying to fit this dumb book into my bag and I didn't see you."

6

Her smile widened and turned into something more friendly, more open, more affable.

7

"My name's Tori."

8

I smiled back, the movements foreign. "Jade."

9

A light blush dusted her cheeks as she studied me the same way I'd studied her.

10

She seemed satisfied with what she observed."Do you want to go get some coffee or something?"