Preparing for a party

You feel like an anxious schoolgirl as you twist and turn in the mirror, struggling to decide if this outfit is really what you want to wear tonight. Is this skirt too short? Do you need more makeup, or will Professor Merchant prefer a natural look? And these earrings, aren't they a little gaudy? It's been a very long time since you've cared this much about how you looked. You rather thought you'd grown out of it, not that you've been to many parties recently.

Only, as the week dragged on since you'd graciously accepted the handsome older boy's invitation, your expectations for the evening just seemed to grow and grow out of all proportion. By now, you were half-expecting it to end with you sweeping him off his feet and carrying him back to your apartment for a night of ravaging. You've tried telling both your brain and dick that isn't likely to happen even if the drinks go well and you manage to pry your handsome professor from his numerous other admirers in the female faculty, but the fantasies just refuse to stop.

At least your other problems have largely resolved themselves. You managed to keep it in your pants during your meeting with Sam, and hopefully gave him some good advice on how he can make a few friends during his time in college. Not that you're an expert on the subject, but as a caring authority figure you hope your support can give him some confidence at least. Your useless brother didn't convince you that he was serious about college during his phone call and so you just refused point-blank to host him. Perhaps the sharp shock of rejection from even his doting older sister will finally be the kick in the butt he desperately needs. As for handsome James, you tossed his number in the trash and he was back at your next tutorial sneering like nothing happened. The only disappointment was Caroline, who so far has refused to apologize for her bizarre behavior at the bar. You feel terrible that your oldest friendship might be ending, but she can't treat you that way and expect things to go straight back to normal.

With a sigh, you finally decide you've changed your outfit more than enough times. This one will have to do. You know you look good, a black skirt, stockings and flat shoes, then a buttoned white shirt and a smart jacket over your shoulders. The overall look is that of a sensible, professional woman, one who has plenty of concerns on her mind and isn't going to be drooling over a handsome boy with pretty eyes. No, he's the one who has to impress her! You don't want to come off as **** after all, even if you very much feel like you are at this point.

You nod with satisfaction, but as you turn to leave you almost stumble over a slinky black dress lying scrunched up on the carpet. It hits you suddenly that your bedroom is a disaster area of discarded clothes and rejected outfits. You hurriedly fold them up and stuff them into your drawers. Just in case someone comes home with you of course. The last thing you want is for Professor Merchant to think you were some kind of slob!

A quick check of your watch reveals you're already threatening to be rather more than fashionably late. You gasp loudly and leap for the door, grabbing at your handbag on the way. For a moment panic fills you as you realize you forgot to put perfume on, but you just don't have the time to stumble back into your bathroom. If you do, you know you'll catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror and think you're lipstick is smudged or something. Then you'll have to stop and fix it. You'll have missed the whole party before long.

Hoping desperately that you won't be this frazzled when you actually talk to Professor Merchant, you burst out your front door, heading for the stairs and the taxi waiting to take you back to the college.