Claire was sitting in her desk beside the window in the rear of class with rumbling to her core and a heart pumping up a storm.
She needed to pass college chemistry and to have any chance of that, she had to get a passing grade on the test she took the previous day but the professor wanted to wait until the end of class to post their results. Like she drew some pleasure from watching her students squirm in their seats with uncomfortable looks on their faces.
Claire grabbed some of her shoulder-length red locks and stroked them while she watched students outside with their backpacks and earplugs shuffling around campus. It was a temperate spring day with blue skies that seemed to never end. All that would have been great to admire any other day but all Claire could focus on was her test score. She almost rather run down the hallway in her birthday outfit than sit through another semester of Chemistry.
No one in her family had ever stepped onto a college campus. A near crushing amount of pressure fell upon her to be the first to graduate. Most of her family chose to drive trucks, work in factories, or stayed at the family farm. Claire's interest laid in how the human body not tractors operated. Some members of her family jeered her even chastised her for taking the road less (not) traveled in their experience. College provided relief from them but also a chance to do what she wanted. Not that what they did was wrong if worked for
them
but Claire had other aspirations.
She sighed, unzipped her backpack, and pulled out her tablet. She turned it on and the time read 8:08AM—a full 52 minutes before the end of class! Claire was certain a half hour had passed.
"AAAHH!"
she screamed in her head.
She was so overrun with anticipation of her test score that she slid out of her seat and headed for Ms. Patton's desk.
Natasha Patton. The instructor men and women dreamed about taking to their dorms for wild nights of fun. She had long, black tresses that rested upon her back, cinnamon eyes under the cover of naturally long lashes, plump pink lips, breasts that fought to escape her turquoise cotton dress, and wide, curved hips that would drive anyone crazy.
She had more degrees and certifications than could be counted on one hand and a circle of friends that might make the most social butterfly jealous. She could have walked around with her nose tilted upward but she was sweeter than chocolate cake. The only reason Claire had a chance of passing was because of her after-class tutoring sessions. Ms. Patton wasn't beyond cancelling previous engagements to be there for her. That did not escape Claire's notice.
Natasha recently checked off the final item on her list of things to provide to her parents: a paid-for home. Having grown up in modest surroundings as they worked five jobs between them to care for her, it was the least she could do. Their health was on the downside but throwing herself into her work distracted her. Distracted her from their endless pleas for grandchildren as well. The university was her current husband but the urge to change that remained. Giving up her position to fly back home continued to tempt her. Claire spotted cracks of sorrow through the instructor's smiles and wished she could be the one to take that away.
Claire never thought of herself as one to "consciously" be attracted to another woman, let alone her instructor, but one almost had to be inhuman to not notice Ms. Patton's allure.
It was also possible Ms. Patton awakened a sleeping side of Claire that had yet to see the light. They always said college was a period of experimentation and exploration. Ms. Patton had Claire wanting to explore things that were once but a passing thought. She didn't have the slightest idea how to make it happen. It looked like she would have to stay in silent frustration.
Claire was crumbling to her toes as she approached Ms. Patton who was thumbing through some folders and organizing papers for the day's lesson.
"Um, good morning," Claire said from Ms. Patton's left side. Her nerves caused her to wring her hands and bounce on her toes.
The instructor paused for a moment to radiate a smile with wink and squinted eyes at her student. "Morning, sweetie."
Claire gasped. It wasn't the first time Ms. Patton gave her that look.
Claire had butterflies, a tightening in her stomach, and a rush between her legs. She had a loss of breath like she experienced when she met her first boyfriend. Maybe she looked at everyone like that? Either way, Claire's brain was like hot grits and she nearly forgot where she was for a moment.
Claire wasn't sure if she measured up to someone Ms. Patton would be attracted to if she did cross over to the girl's side. The young student didn't wear a dash of makeup and thought herself to be cute but never felt she'd find herself on the cover of Cosmo. She was rivaled in height by a fairy and skin was like cream but didn't feel as though she had distinguishing features. Her breasts were bite-sized and her ass was proportioned to her small frame. Like many girls, she was much more attractive than she'd ever give herself credit for.
Aside from that, Ms. Patton was 35, a decade and a half older than Claire.
Claire gathered herself enough to speak to her teacher. "I was wondering if I could see my test score now. I kind of have somewhere to be."
Ms. Patton pointed her pen at the wall clock while shuffling through the papers before her. "Pretty sure I said I would do that at the end of class. That's at 9AM central time not eastern, my love."
Claire entangled her fingers. "Ugh, I know! I just can't wait! Please."
"You look lovely today, Claire," Ms. Patton said as she lifted her gaze again.
"Th...thank you but..."
Ms. Patton pushed away from the desk and walked in front the class with tablet in hand. "Class is about to start. Shouldn't you take your seat?"
Claire pouted under her breath and shuffled her flip-flops back to her desk. Her presence was enough to have the student quivering with arousal. Claire was certain that she and her instructor shared something that went beyond the student/teacher bond formed during their time together in class. Claire was becoming overwhelmed with curiosity as to what that something might be unless it was just her imagination. The latter she hoped not.
She sat at her desk and grumbled with her head propped up by her hand while Ms. Patton spoke of chemical reactions and periodic table elements. If anyone else was teaching, Claire's face would have slammed to the desk in a deep snooze by now.
Throughout class, tension was rushing from her nether region throughout her whole body and was distracting enough that taking in the lesson became quite the chore. She couldn't believe simply being near Ms. Patton caused that.
Class seemed like it was three hours long but was soon mercifully nearing its end and she realized her notebook was empty save for a few scribbles of notes. She wanted to shove all of her textbooks and notebooks into a wastebasket and take gasoline and a match to them. That's a chemical reaction she'd really enjoy.
"Okay, class," Ms. Patton said, "your scores from yesterday's exam should now be posted on your personal webpage for this class. You can come to me for questions but other than that, class is dismissed. Have a great day and remember the final exam is in three weeks!"
Claire's nerves were a mess. She settled them as best she could, took a breath, and navigated to the webpage on her tablet. She found her list of classes and clicked the one named Chemistry and a link called "test scores" appeared. This was it. The moment of truth. Though her fingers trembled, she inhaled, and clicked it.
Her eyes were sealed as the page appeared. She opened her right eye, ever so slowly, and peeked at her score. When she saw it, she opened them both followed by her mouth in utter disbelief.
"55? No! This has to be a mistake! How did I make a 55?" she said to herself. "I'm never going to pass this class now!"
A 55 was a far cry from the 70 she needed for a passing grade. All those hours of studying for a damn 55. She didn't know what else to do though leaping out of the window yelling seemed to be an increasingly good option.
She folded her arms over her chest, squeezed her eyelids together, and a pair of tears trickled out. Her face warmed and her nose sniffled. Her emotions were ripped with devastation. Claire's cries became more audible and she laid down her head to let her wails out into her desk.
She hated that about herself, how she became so emotional about things. Some thought it was endearing while others thought her to be a baby. It couldn't be helped. It made Claire who she was. It wasn't like this was an occasion to throw confetti anyhow.
A few minutes passed when she heard Ms. Patton's voice, which was somewhat drowned out by Claire splashing around in her despair.
"Claire! Claire!" Ms. Patton called to her.
