It's pretty quiet. But you meet two new students.

You dress and leave the Cummins girls with another warning to clean up and leave before leaving your cottage and heading to your afternoon class. This is "Introduction to Biology," a course that seems designed for people with only the most basic interest or knowledge of the subject. If anything, it seems to be designed for a high school level, but you remind yourself that Pink Rose is not exactly an academic powerhouse.

You reach your classroom a few minutes before the class is scheduled to begin. A few students are already there, scattered throughout the room, some of them nodding a welcome at you as you enter. You sit at your desk and pull out the file on the course, running your eyes down the list of students, noting they are all first year girls, and that you recognise none of their names. The remainder of the students file in during the next few minutes, taking seats and chatting quietly to each other.

At three you take attendance, the girls holding up hands and smiling as they identify themselves. That done you set the list down and launch into a lecture about the basics of the course. Your students run the gamut from disinterested to smiling and attentive. As you speak you let your eyes roam over the students, trying to put faces to names and get a sense of their personalities.

Two pretty blondes in the front row catch your eye. One with her hair in braided pigtails, slouches, her knees spread and her skirt hiked up to show a length of creamy thigh, her pink lips shining as she nibbles on the end of her pen. She had answered to Harper Morgan during roll call with a diffident lift of her hand, seemingly disinterested in anything to do with the class.

The other girl wears her hair in a pony tail, her pretty face adorned with a pair of rectangular glasses. She crosses her legs, one foot rocking as she takes notes, looking up at you, intent on every word. When you catch her eye she returns a shy smile, a faint blush colouring her cheeks. Her name is Elsa Heatherington, and you find yourself directing your lecture at her, since she seems to be the student most interested in what you have to say.

When the class ends and you dismiss the students they file out, once again chattering to each other. Harper drops a notebook and makes a show of bending over, her skirt riding up to show off a flash of white panties. She gives you a smouldering look before tucking her books under her arm and swaying out of the room.

Elsa remains behind for a moment, hesitating before approaching you.

"Thank you so much Professor Carter," she says with a nervous smile. "That was really interesting."

"You're welcome Elsa. But I'm not a Professor. Mr. Carter will do."

"Oh...oh I'm sorry...I didn't..." she blushes as she stammers prettily, pushing her glasses back up her nose.

"It's alright," you smile in reassurance. "Thanks for your kind words."

"Um..you're welcome. It was great. You made it really interesting."

"Thank you, Elsa. If you have any questions, don't hesitate to ask them."

"Um...sure...yes I will. I...thanks...thanks so much Prof....Mr. Carter. And...um...welcome to Pink Rose..."

"Thanks again Elsa," you smile. "I really appreciate that. It's great to have a student who enjoys the class."

"I really do," she says with a pixie like smile. "Thanks again sir." She gives you another pretty but rather shy smile and steps away, smiling again before she turns and leaves the room. You shake your head and put your stuff away, amused at the innocent exuberance of the young woman, and contrasting it with the brazen, even crude, sexuality of some of the girls you've met so far.

Which reminds you that you told Margot and Rose to come to your cottage for tutoring at four.