The book may well have insulted his whole family line, that's how unhappy he was with the thing. He was studying to be a cryogenist, and yet here he was having to read over dry literature from the likes of Byron and Shelley. These men were supposedly the cream of their crop, but trying to decipher their words was akin to explaining below-zero physics to a child.

Add in the horrendously condescending manner in which the whole class had been controlled by his oaf of a professor, and he would be so lucky as to pass by the minimum. At least he would keep his scholarship...

He almost didn't notice when someone came to the other side of him. He thought at first it was another student finding a location to sit for finals, but once he realized the works spoken were for him, he looked up.

"I'm sorry?"