Go to the studio and check on things

As much as I’d like to remain and flirt — or possibly do more — with Lu, duty calls. Something needs to be done quickly if I am going to salvage this scene, and if you want something done right, you’d better do it yourself.

“I need to get back to the studio,” I announce. “Let me see what is going on. Can someone drive me over there?”

A clipboard-carrying woman steps forward. I recognize her as Tracy, an intern from the university, working with us while she learns the behind-the-scenes aspects of business administration for a major media company. “I’ll drive you,” she says. “My car is right over here.”

I follow behind the college student, trying not to get distracted by her short skirt and long, shapely legs or by her cute ass that sways in a very inviting manner as she hurries toward her car.

“I appreciate the ride,” I say, as I get into the passenger seat of her vehicle.

“Glad to help,” she replies, as she tosses the clipboard in the back seat and begins the brief drive to the studio.

I take my eyes off her legs and look behind me at the backseat. I almost laugh at what I see. As professional as Tracy looks while carrying a clipboard, it is evident from the state of her car that she is a stereotypical college student. Actually, she seems more like a stereotypical male college student, in terms of the messiness of her vehicle. Fast food wrappers, crumpled ATM receipts, and an assortment of college textbooks lay haphazardly on the seat and the floor, along with a dufflebag, sweatshirt, and other things.

She turns and sees what I am looking at. She grins sheepishly and says, “Sorry about the mess. I keep meaning to clean this thing out, but I never seem to get around to it.”

“Not a problem,” I say. “You’re probably pretty busy, between your work at the studio and your classes. I don’t blame you for not scrubbing out the inside of your car, too.”

She smiles, but I can sense she is a little on edge. I don’t know if it is because she is worried about the glitch in production, or if she is nervous about having me in the car with her. I’ve learned in the past few weeks that even though I’m barely eighteen, the employees at the studio have a hard time thinking of me as anything other than one of the bosses.

I decide to try to put her at ease.

“Is it difficult managing school and your work?”

She forces a smile. “Not really... I just have to give up having a social life; that’s all.” After a bit of a pause, she says, “But I’m sure you know what that’s like. You’ve got way more responsibilities than I do, so you understand how it works.”

“Well, actually, I don’t,” I admit. “I turned eighteen right after graduation from high school, and I started immediately at the studio, so I never had to worry about studies.”

She turns her attention briefly from the road and looks at you with renewed interest. “Really? I keep forgetting that you’re actually a couple of years younger than me. You seem so mature that I just assumed you already had your degree.”

You accept her words as a compliment. “Thanks. I guess that’s a good thing. No one wants a pimply-faced boy running around and shouting orders.”

“True,” she admits. “But probably ‘pimply-faced boys’ have a better feel for what the customers of Cum-On Productions are looking for.”

Then, as if suddenly remembering that she’s talking to the boss again, she loses some of the relaxed informality I was just beginning to enjoy.

I try again to break the ice and keep it broken this time. “Well, it’s true that I’ve basically known all my life what I would be doing once I got out of school, but there are some times when I find myself wishing that I had taken the time to go to college and live a little before entering the workforce.”

Tracy looks surprised. “Seriously? You think college is ‘living a little’? It’s a lot of work.’

“I’m sure it is,” I say, “but it’s not all work, is it? I mean, you’ve got parties, social groups, fraternities, and all the interaction of living in a dormitory.... Isn’t that rather fun?”

She shrugs. “I really wouldn’t know. I have been pretty focused on my grades, and I haven’t really indulged in all that other stuff.”

The car pulls into the studio parking lot, and the two of us hurry inside to find the source of the problem. As we walk, I notice again just how attractive Tracy is. If she would just relax a bit, I’m confident she would be able to have a lot of fun in college. In fact, I’m surprised that guys aren’t beating the door down, trying to take her out.

We arrive at the control center just as my phone rings. I answer it, and hear the news that the glitch has been fixed, and everything is up and running smoothly again. I put the phone back in my pocket and tell Tracy, “Well, it looks like we made this trip for nothing. It’s all fixed.”

Tracy looks relieved. Then, looking around, she says, “You know, this is the first time I’ve been in this part of the studio.”

Seizing on this revelation, I say, “Well, then you should have a tour. And then, perhaps, you can tell me all about your school while we have dinner together? It’s the least I can do to help a starving student who is so willing to be helpful.”

Tracy blushes and looks uncertain.