Darla Crane

Darla knew the conventional wisdom was to make the first date a lunch date. That way, the man would know going home with him was not on the table.

But Rex had just been so nice! And when he told her that he collected rare books, she of course had to come see. A first edition French translation of Anna Karenina was not something a literature professor was going to pass up!

And so she was waiting while her date retrieved his treasure from his climate-controlled safe when a young man in a rumpled outfit walked in carrying a graphic novel.

"A little light reading?" She asked with unmasked derision.

"Oh! Hi!" The young man said. "You must be my dad's date!"

"Yes, I'm Professor Crane," she said, then blushed. "Sorry. I mean Darla. I'm used to assuming men your age are my students."

He shrugged.

"Maybe you could teach me something," he suggested.

"Do you go to State? Maybe you could enroll in my Intro Lit course!" She said.

"Oh no," he said, waving her off. "No, no, no. I'm agoraphobic. No way could I handle being on campus."

Darla felt guilty at how she had initially judged her date's son. The poor boy was dealing with mental illness.

"Well, you know, there are more and more courses available on line these days," she said. "And with your father's interest in books, you could probably design an incredible guided study program."

"Yeah, I guess," he said. "But it's probably not the same as having a real teacher in the classroom. Your students are real lucky."

"Well, that's nice of you to say," she said.

For such an odd-looking, unsocialized young man, he was really quite charming, in a way.

"I bet they really like watching you walking back and forth in front of the classroom," he speculated. "Back and forth, back and forth, talking and talking while walking and walking, back and forth, back and forth. Everyone watching you walking and talking. Back and forth back and forth."

"Back and forth, back and forth," she repeated, picturing herself in front of her students walking back and forth. Back and forth. It was relaxing. And a little bit funny. She giggled.

"Your students must love watching your long, lucious legs," Todd surmised. "I bet a lot of them take literature just for your long, lucious literary legs."

She nodded sagely.

"Yes," she agreed. "My long, lucious, literary legs. Lots like looking at my long lucious legs, learning about alliteration."

She didn't wear such short skirts when lecturing. But maybe she should. Maybe she should lecture in a bikini and high heels, walking back and forth in front of the classroom as everyone stared. Back and forth. Back and forth.

She liked it when they stared. She liked it when Todd stared.

She shifted in her seat to better display her long, lucious legs with alliterative grace. Todd stole an appreciative glance followed by a more appreciative leer.

"Do you think maybe you might do a private class, just for me, Professor Crane?" He asked. "There's so many things you could teach me."

"Well, I guess I could," she conceded. "But I would need you to give me your full attention."

"Well, my mind does tend to wander," he confessed.

"That is a problem," Darla said. "I can't teach you if you aren't paying attention to me."

She chewed on her spectacles in thought, then had an idea. She ripped open her blouse and stuck out her chest.

"Would these help you pay attention to me?" She asked.

"Why yes, Professor," he confirmed. "I believe they would."

"Good!" She said. "Then we can start the lesson."