It was Friday -- and it was it. Having packed into my new bedroom, helped by Alexa who'd driven us up in her Corsa, with the student halls still empty for the next couple of days, I said my goodbyes and walked under a pleasant blue sky across the Recreation Ground, a tarmac path between two football pitches, the air silent but for birdsong. I found my way to reception, where the same woman with wiry grey hair and big glasses was sat. This time, from the lanyard she'd taken off and left on the desk, I knew she was called Dana Sincoskie, and she was all smiles when I appeared.
"Ah, there you are," she said brightly, "welcome, welcome!"
"Thanks," I said, grinning despite my self-consciousness. "I guess I'm meant to present myself here?"
"Well," said Dana, "I know Kam's around here somewhere, they're showing you around, I think."
"Not Nadine?" I asked.
"Oh, no, Nadine'll be far too busy. Students return tomorrow, then we're back to teaching on Monday. She's got a lot of prep. I'll just go chase up Kam for you; if you just have a seat, a moment."
"Okay, thanks," I said, turning for one of the seats.
"Oh, and I should mention," Dana added, "Kam goes by 'they' and 'them,' just so you know."
"Okay," I replied. This was very encouraging -- Dana must have been at least sixty and yet was happy to go around respecting these kinds of things. From the outside, one would assume Crownbird was as stuffy and uptight as it got, but it almost felt like a real university. Except for, you know, that one thing.
After a couple of minutes, the door across reception swung open and what must have been Kam strolled in. They were short, with a mischievous and somewhat androgynous face and full cheeks, short hair dyed bright blonde and curling over their head like a cresting wave, poking from a bright red beanie, while they wore a jumper black but for red along the shoulders and arms, tight dark blue jeans, and bright pink trainers.
"Hi!" they said brightly, rainbow lanyard swinging from their neck, their beaming face on the photograph with the name KAM READ underneath, and I got up quickly.
"Hi," I said back, almost breathlessly, as they reached out to shake my hand and I took it. I thought they looked me up and down as we shook but maybe I was imagining it.
"Kelly, right?" I nodded. "I'm Kam. I guess I'm giving you your orientation, yeah?"
"I think so, yeah, that's what Dana said." Kam nodded -- they spoke and moved energetically, with such loose confidence, that I must have been a total contrast.
"Okay, well, first off, I'm head of Student Services," Kam said, crossing their arms over their flattened chest, "been doing it about six or so months since I graduated from Bath. "So I'm the one you'll be reporting to -- let's do a little tour, then I'll show you your office and we can go over some stuff."
"I get my own office?" I asked.
"Sure, you're Student Officer -- you need an office. It's not much but it'll do. Cheers, Dana!" Dana gave a little wave and then I was being led out of reception and down a corridor, with Kam pointing out lecture halls and the drama theatre and the swimming centre and IT centre and so on.
"This place is huge," I remarked.
"It really is," Kam agreed. "Like, I don't think people realise this is a proper university."
"And really selective, right?" I asked. "Only a little over a thousand students?"
"When it was a school, yeah, but now it's like six thousand," Kam replied, as we split to let someone else walk by between us, then came back together. "About half the students live on campus and the rest in the nearby towns. Dorking, mostly, but a lot in London."
"Oh, okay, that makes sense," I said.
Finally, we got into a lift and the doors closed, encasing us.
"We're going all the way up," Kam said, in a mock-serious tone.
"Oh, top floor office for me?" I asked as the lift trembled before, with a whir, ascending.
"Yep," they laughed. "We're all very jealous." The lift stopped and the doors opened -- here, the corridor was bare, almost undeveloped, with nothing on the walls and the floor unhoovered. Flakes of dry paint covered its corners. "Just round here."
"Okay," I replied, looking around. "Does anyone else work up here?"
"Not at the moment," Kam replied. "It's mostly just storage. Your job didn't exist until recently and, well, you've gotta be somewhere that nobody can hear you." They stopped at a bare wooden door.
"How come?"
"Well, when I say 'you,' I mean 'your hand,' you know?" They opened the door and stepped into my office -- I followed and the smell of dust hit me. The office was small, with a desk pushed into the corner, a computer monitor and swivel chair, window besides the desk with a view over the Recreation Field and line of elm trees past that, and much of the rest of the room's space was taken up by two old filing cabinets and a worn two-seat leather sofa, brown as foreign chocolate. The walls had been freshly painted white and there was plentiful light coming from both the window and a skylight in the roof.
"Oh, this is really cosy, actually," I said.
"You're allowed to say it sucks," sniggered Kam.
"It doesn't!" I said quickly. "I've never had an office before. And my last job was in a Wetherspoons kitchen. I'm not complaining about anything." Kam laughed.
"So," they said, "I'm gonna have to pop off, but if you just turn on the computer, there's some training stuff on the desktop, and you can go through them. You should be sorted within a couple hours. Unless you've got any questions." I did -- one.
"Yes, actually," I said; Kam, having already turned back to the door, stopped and regarded me.
"Oh, yeah?"
"Yeah -- the whole..." They cocked their head. "Red notice thingy."
"Uh-huh?"
"Is that on the training?"
"I don't know, actually," they replied, "but if you've got questions about it, I can help you out, I'm sure."
"Okay, well..."
"Nervous about having to do it?"
"Yeah," I said quickly, more exhaled, crossing my arms tightly.
"I swear it'll be fine," Kam said, "like, really fine. Everybody knows it's the rules round here -- it's so normal to everyone now."
"Are there any rules about, like, how you're meant to do it?" Kam looked at me in a way that was almost suspicious.
"Haven't you been told anything about it at all?"
"Not really, no, just that it's, like, spanking and stuff."
"Yeah, it is, but I'm surprised. Well, to be honest, there's no rules, really -- except that students can get an opt-out if they've got, like, personal reasons to avoid physical chastisements."
"Like trauma and stuff like that?"
"Exactly. Those lot just get detentions and things like that. For everyone else, though, anything goes. Back when it was the individual lecturers doing it there'd be a lot of, let's say, variety to how they'd administer a red notice. There was one, actually, Professor Rogers, if you got your third red notice with him he'd make you strip completely naked before you got spanked."
"You're kidding."
"I'm not." Kam was giggling like it was just a funny little story. "So, if the line's somewhere beyond there, you'll be fine. You've got free reign, really."
"Wow," I said quietly, and Kam nodded.
