Get ready for school

"John, wake up," you hear faintly. Then again, a gentle, "John, you need to get ready."

You bolt upright and see your mother in the doorway. Running late again, you think to yourself. "Thanks," you say to your mom as you start to get up.

"No problem, I just know you have class soon and thought you might want to make it," she says with a wry smile before walking off. Yeah, that was at least mostly true, you think. Though your first few weeks at university haven't exactly been ideal. You let out a long breath, then get dressed, grab your bag, and head downstairs.

You think about just leaving since you'll barely make it to your class at this point but decide to get some cereal first and just be a few minutes late. After sitting at the table and starting to eat, your mom walks into the dining room and asks, "Do you have any thoughts about what you want to do with us this Saturday?"

The fact that it's your turn to choose what you do with your family during your monthly night out hits you, as does the fact that you have to do it at all. You hate choosing, but they always make you do it anyways, and besides, you're not sure how much you like the practice. So you just sigh and say "No, but would you rather get dinner or see a movie?"

"Get dinner," your mom immediately replies, brow furrowing. "Huh, I guess we'll do that then, but you still have to choose the place, or we could make it your turn next time I suppose."

You look at her somewhat surprised that she would actually choose and then stick to it, and then remember the dream. But you laugh, thinking that her finally helping you make the choice must just be a coincidence. You start to eat again, but then consider the possibility that it's not, as you could see how what the being said could apply here. So, feeling out the situation, you slowly say, "Mom, would you rather get dinner at Shamrocks Pub or The Tipsy Cow?" She hated anywhere that emphasized but you liked those two establishments and she knew it, so you wanted to see how she would react.

"Shamrocks Pub is what I'd prefer," she said quickly, "It's not my favorite but it sounds good for that night, so we will go there. Sorry to choose for you, though I suppose you probably don't mind that." Your mom looked confused after that for a moment, but then turned to leave and start getting ready herself.

Meanwhile, the wheels in your head are spinning. Although this seems improbable, you realize that you want to do a better test, but you don't know what to do or how to do it safely. A glance at the clock panics you, however, as you will now at best be ten minutes late to class. You throw the remains of your cereal in the sink, grab your things, and leave after a quick goodbye with your mother.

You run across the street to your car and throw your things in, but before you get in you see a stranger jogging on the sidewalk a few houses down from you. Your quick glance shows that she's a short, curly haired brunette, though her boobs are definitely on the right side of the bell curve. Although it seems stupid, you grab a small textbook from your bag, close your car door, and head to the sidewalk. When she gets closer, you hold out the book as if reading from it, hoping that will somehow protect you from the rude and out of character thing you're about to do, and say, "Would you rather passionately kiss the next stranger you see or grind your butt on them?"

She just scoffs and then looks at you with a disgusted expression before starting to turn, but now that she's this near you can see that she has a beautiful face with plush, round lips and that even this expression looks great on her. You kick yourself internally, but then she stops and blurts out, "I'd rather kiss them."

Before you can fully comprehend that she even answered you, her mouth is pressed against yours. You back up a step but she follows, passionately kissing you. The two of you embrace, pressing together before you finally finish your kiss. She looks at you, shock and embarrassment outlined on her face, before she turns and starts jogging away in a hurry without a word.

Astounded, you look at her retreating form while you notice your hardening dick. Shit, I do have a power, you think to yourself. But then you look around and remember that you still have to get to class. You look back at the girl, who is waiting at a corner that is within earshot and doesn't seem as worried as you would fear, then at your car, and think about what to do next.