Author's Note: This story features a cameo from a character from my first published erotic story, Ben's Little Aisling.
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Hailey sighed as she shouldered her backpack and walked down the hall, passing between college students equally tired. It was a Monday, the first class of the day.
"Introduction to Human Sexuality." The butt of every registration joke, it certainly was. It was also a viable Humanities general education credit, and Hailey wanted to take something a little more interesting than the rest of the vanilla gen-eds this otherwise-prestigious state college had to offer.
Sadly, Professor Winders seemed to suck the life out of even so provocative a subject. And for the next fifty minutes, Hailey have to suffer through her professor's awkward small talk, her constant coughing and her uniquely uninspired skill with PowerPoint.
The door was open already, and Hailey walked through, noting she was the last to arrive. At least the class size was small. Seven other people, six of them girls. It seems even putting "sex" in the name of the class couldn't get college students to get up at seven-thirty in the morning.
"Hey, Hailey," yawned Sarah, as she took her seat next to her classmate. She was her almost-friend, conveniently available whenever they did partner assignments, though their friendship didn't extend outside class time.
"Yo," said Hailey, as she pulled her notebook from her backpack. "What's the weather like today?"
"Cloudy with a chance of Brad," Sarah said, smirking.
"Didn't you break up with-"
"Different Brad," she said, clicking her pen to punctuate. "This one's on the football team."
"Oh boy," Hailey said. "I've always wanted to fuck someone who loses every game they play."
"Well, fuck you too," Sarah shot back conversationally. "Though, I don't know. He seems . . . clingy. Like he wants to-"
"Could you both shut up?" Jess said from the front row. "Some of us are here to learn!"
"Stick up your ass, much? You see the clock? Seven thirty-two. Ergo, class hasn't started yet. Ergo, I can say whatever I damn well please, fuck you very much."
Hailey laughed at that. Jess flipped them both off silently, then turned back to face the front.
Hailey herself turned back to her conversation. "I'd lose him once he starts wanting to be exclusive. No point taking it further."
"Yeah, that's what I was thinking."
"Good morning, class!" Professor Winders strolled in through the door, her binders clutched against her chest. "Sorry I'm almost late, I had," cough cough, "some issues with my parking pass. Though I," cough, "hope you all did the reading for today?"
The class murmured general assent as she set her books down at the front desk, picking up her flash drive and inserting it into the computer. Then, she hit a button near the monitor and the projector fired up, coating the whiteboard in blue light before resolving into a picture of her desktop.
"Good, good. So, you know," cough, cough, clearing throat, "that we'll be talking about the various gender roles found in Chinese and other far eastern societies historically, and how they relate," cough cough-
. . . aaaand Hailey was safely zoned out. She leaned back in her seat, idly playing with the spiral wire of her notebook, not bothering to take out her pencil.
She looked over to the end of her row, seeing the only male student similarly distracted. Martin leaned over his desk, his pencil tracing wide arcs across a sheet of notebook paper. Hailey craned her neck, trying to get a better look at what he was drawing, heedless of who else was watching.
". . . in African families, Hailey?"
Hailey straightened immediately, facing the front as her professor waited for her response.
"Um," she said, mind spinning. She took a shot in the dark. "Well, wouldn't it be the mother?" She hoped her answer made sense, or at least got her in the ballpark of
I was listening, honest!
Professor Winders looked thoughtful, then nodded. "Close. Mothers are principally responsible, but they work along with their daughters to contribute to the general," cough cough -
Hailey sighed in relief, her eyes darting back to Martin, who seemed to be finishing up whatever he was drawing. He now folded the sheet in half, then tapped the Haitian girl sitting in front of him -- Amy something-or-other -- on the shoulder.
She looked back sharply, meeting Martin's eyes and only taking his note after a long pause. She turned around, placing it beside her own notes, then unfolded it gradually.
And Hailey couldn't see what was written there. The angle was all wrong. She was halfway across the room, but she at least hoped she could make out a word or two.
Sexy
, perhaps, or
tonight
would serve as enough fuel for the usual gossip.
Amy straightened in her seat, then began to squirm as she folded the note shut sharply. She cast a dirty look back at Martin, but couldn't seem to hold his gaze very long. Oddly, her eyes unfocused, as she turned toward the front, losing much of her posture while doing so.
And, to add conundrum to mystery, she passed the note along to her neighbor, Cynthia.