A fortuitous encounter on the quad with Charmaine

You’re out for an early evening stroll to clear your mind from working on the Seminar Assignment when you spy Charmaine and the prof talking in the distance as they exit some building. The old professor, who you swear must have terrible eyesight with the size of his glasses, somehow spots you from across the quad, and he waves at you, giving you **** but to approach him.

“How are you doing, Alex? You look like a man with a lot weighing on his mind,” the professor chuckles. “Thinking about the assignment due tomorrow, perhaps? Charmaine’s already had the chance to pepper me with many questions, so it’s only fair that you get to ask yours now.”

He gives her a friendly smile that makes you wonder am I here to hit on her, or is he?

“Oh, I actually came here to speak with Charmaine for a second,” you respond, and she looks over at you, seeming a little surprised.

“Ah. In that case, Charmaine, if you have anything…” the professor begins, but Charmaine shakes her head.

“I think I’m good,” she says quickly.

“Alright,” the professor chuckles, turning back to the building and giving the two of you a cheery wave. “You two have fun at each other’s rooms, or wherever you young’uns do it these days!”

“It’s not like that,” Charmaine blurts out, but the professor is already off on his merry way, the door to the building swinging shut behind him.

She turns to face you, looking red in the face.

“Wow, he got under your skin,” you comment.

“That man knows just how to get on my nerves,” Charmaine says, shaking her head. “I swear, there’s only maybe… two other people in the world who can do that to me?”

“Oh, and who would that be?”

“One of them’s my da. He’s a trial lawyer, does product liability and personal injury stuff, and he always knows how to twist my words against me,” she says. “It’s crazy! I’ve never won an argument against him.”

“It sounds like he would be a useful resource for this assignment,” you say, thinking back to the argument that Charmaine delivered earlier this week.

“I asked him about it, and he just laughed at me, telling me he wasn’t about to do my work for me,” Charmaine says. “I don’t know why, but he seemed kind of awkward about it.”

“I get it,” you say, nodding knowingly.

She gives you a questioning look.

“It’s erotic,” you say, draping an arm lazily over her shoulder, “and that makes him uncomfortable. But that doesn’t mean we all have to be such prudes.”

Your hand slips beneath the top hem of her shirt, rubbing a bared dark shoulder.

“My da’s not a prude,” Charmaine says weakly, but she does nothing about your hand, which now traces lower to her collarbone.

You’re about to go for more, when you suddenly recall what others have said about Charmaine—she still hasn’t put out for anyone yet. Plus, you’re out in public, and though it’s getting dark… it’s not worth it. She might seem receptive now, but by pushing too fast, you’re risking everything later for the sake of just a little bit more, now. Better to take things slower.

You retreat your hand, bringing it back to a more neutral position by her shoulder, and you feel her body shift under your arm, less tense, more relaxed.

“And neither am I,” you say. “By the way, I thought more about what you were saying about love and sex, and I think you might be right. They can work together well.”

“Yes, I think so too,” Charmaine says, glancing at you. “The professor seemed quite receptive to my argument too.”

“Interesting,” you say. “But I wonder what the professor actually thinks. You seem to have spent some time with him talking over this stuff, so… maybe you have a lead?”

“Are you just asking me this so you can regurgitate his thoughts in your essay and get a good grade?” Charmaine asks.

“No…” you begin saying, but seeing her raised eyebrow, “but uh… yes?”

She smiles and shakes her head.

“Come on, you should know by now that our professor isn’t the type to give people good grades because he agrees with them,” she says. “Besides, I don’t even know what he thinks! I’ve tried to get his opinion, but he always turns the question back on me, saying, ‘That’s a good question, Charmaine, what do you think about it?’”

“Very disappointing,” you say.

“Yep,” she sighs. “Like I said, he’s always on my nerves.”

She pauses, checking her phone, and then she starts typing, and types and types and stares at her phone for a good minute, causing you to second guess yourself.

“Uh… much like I am right now?” you ask her.

“No, just something that’s come up,” she says. “Family stuff. But… if you want to talk more about the assignment, I’ll be free later tonight?”

Charmaine +10