"Mr. Anderson, can you please tell the rest of the class which battle Napoleon met his end at during the 19th century?"
Wyatt Anderson snapped to full attention at the sound of his name called. All thirty or so classmates had their eyes glued to him for amusement. The only one not so amused was montone Mr. Howard, their military history professor. He also happened to be Wyatt's least favorite professor for exactly this reason, calling out the handsome young extrovert whenever he just happened to be distracted.
"Waterloo?" Wyatt answered hesitantly, having very little hope this his answer would save him this time.
Sure enough, snickers cackled throughout the small classroom. Again, the only one not laughing was Mr. Howard himself.
"Incorrect," he stated simply. "Now for those of you paying attention, who would like to correct Mr. Anderson for some extra credit points?"
A dozen arms shot up, but none as quick at the girl directly in front of Wyatt. She stood up for the whole class to see, clearing her throat in preparation.
"The answer is none, Napoleon didn't die on the battlefield," the cute Filipina girl answered in a bubbly manner. "In fact, most scholars debate the cause of death, stating either it was stomach cancer or arsenic poisoning."
A smile, if one could call that slight smirk such, appeared on Mr. Howard's face. "That's correct Joy. Five extra points for you!" His gaze returned to Wyatt. "But I'll start deducting from your overall grade if this continues Mr. Anderson!"
With one final scowl aimed at his helpless victim, the aging professor returned to his increasingly boring lecture. Wyatt nervously played with his brown, permed locks. This hadn't been the first, nor would it be the last time that he'd be called out in class. His wandering mind had little need for all this seemingly useless knowledge. Unfortunately, this was part of a requirement for college, and this particular course was the one open at the time he registered for classes.
"Should have done it the first day," Wyatt thought to himself.
He looked at the back of the girl that had just answered the question. That too had happened before as well. Joy Angara was her name, and if you looked up the word teacher's pet, her lovely face would have been next to the definition. She was a straight A student, that one extrovert you always seem to have in every class, and ironically was the reason Wyatt found himself distracted so much.
Joy boasted plenty of features that could deviant any straight guy's attention. First, her raven black hair fell beautifully down her back, like decorative curtains. Below that was a heart shaped butt that alone begged to be stared at all night. In the front, Joy's bow shaped lips and alluring eyes drew jealous looks from other girls, while guys looked further down to her ample cleavage.
But Wyatt wasn't staring at any of those things. Since day one of this class, the young man's eyes had been glued to Joy's smooth, caramel legs and her large feet, fully out on a display from the confines of her moccasins. A foot guy for as long as he could remember, Wyatt found Joy's feet to be the most perfect he had ever seen, and that meant something, considering at the time he'd spent staring at classmate's feet. What made this girl's feet special was how well kept they looked, always appearing soft and smooth. Her brown soles were lighter than the rest of her skin, not a callous or speck of dirt upon them. A single toe ring was fitted on the second toe of her right foot. Though out of view from Wyatt's angle, he knew that the toes were painted black, or perhaps a very dark purple. Either way, those amazing feet made paying attention in class impossible for him.
Wyatt attempted to avert his gaze from Joy's peds, feeling several eyes upon him. Everyone all of a sudden was curious why their classmate couldn't seem to pay attention in class so often. He often wonder if anyone could have figured it out. If they did, no one said anything.
Meanwhile, the snore-worthy history professor continued describing the aftermath of the Napoleonic Wars and their effect on Europe culture for the next several decades.
"Who gives a fuck? We're in America for heaven's sake!" Wyatt thought, a joke he had repeated in his mind countless times over the course of the year.
When he though both his peers and his professor weren't paying him any mind again, Wyatt returned his attention to the only interesting thing in the room; Joy's entertaining feet. The right foot was now dangling the shoe from her long, succulent toes, the other foot scrunched down against the soft floor. Though Wyatt honestly did appreciate everything else that made Joy one of the hottest girls he had seen at the university, it was her giant feet that really caught his attention from the day he lay eyes on her. His best guess was Joy wore a size 12, if not a size bigger. Smaller feet never really drew his attention, and Joy's were certainly some of the biggest he'd seen from someone his age.
Mr. Howard turned around again, but Wyatt had already returned his attention to the front. It was a constant battle between them it seemed. The boring professor somehow expected that Wyatt's attention be kept on him when nothing he explained was remotely useful. One day, Wyatt realized, he would get into serious trouble for this, but he simply didn't care as long as Joy seemingly refused to wear socks or keep her shoes on the whole class.
After a gruelling half hour of historical facts, it was dismissal time. If there was any silver lining about this class, other than Joy's peds, it was the fact that this was Wyatt's last class of his day on Tuesdays and Thursday. He picked up his untouched textbook and quickly hopped out of the room, hoping to get away before Mr. Howard decided he wanted a after-class talk with him, accusing him of having some sort off ADD. That wouldn't have been the first time for teacher to say that.
Wyatt made it halfway down the hall when suddenly he heard a familiar female voice call out to him. When he turned around and saw Joy approach him, the young man's heart nearly skipped a beat or two.
Joy gave him an apologetic smile. "Look, I'm sorry that I did that to you," she said. "I feel like I've kinda embarrassed you in front of the class."
Never before had Joy really attempted to talk to him outside of class. She apparently was a popular girl on campus, with friends usually waiting for her afterwards to walk across campus. Today, she was alone and even seemed uncharacteristically upset.
"Naw, don't worry about it," Wyatt answered, trying to appear as cool as possible. "I just can't look at the guy for long periods at a time. He looks like he'll expire any minute now."
Normally, his dark sense had a habit of putting girls off. Joy, however, burst out in a fit of giggles. "Oh my god, right?!" she agreed. "Someone told me he's been here for ages now! He could almost be old enough to be included in this lecture chapter."
Few girls could produce a honest laugh from Wyatt, but today was an exception. Suddenly, he felt more at easy around the attractive Filipina hottie.
"I'd imagine he'd kill enemy soldiers with his boring lectures rather than a musket." he joked, producing another sweet laugh from Joy.
"God, you're funny!" she chirped between her laughter. "You really should speak up more man!"
Wyatt shrugged. "Guess i don't really have much to say."
"Ohhhh so you're the quiet type huh?" Joy ribbed. "Well, nothing wrong about that." She turned her head, as if looking back for someone. "My friends aren't here, and I really like walking with someone? Be a gent an escort a lady home please?"
"Sure!" the nervous young man enthusiastically said. He then went for the nearby exit and held it open. "After you!"
