Your first English Class

After hoofing it up a series of stairs, taking three wrong turns, and then having to hoof it up another set of stairs, you arrive at English 201, patting yourself on the back for setting the expectation of arriving fifteen minutes early. As it turns out, you're now just five minutes early. You glance around and notice an empty seat next to Emma. Regardless of whether you stand a chance of getting in the hot goth girl's pants, it's nice to be next to someone you know, so you take a seat.

"Hey," she says as you sit down, with a small smile.

"Hey back. How are things with your roommate?" You ask her.

"Oh, good. She keeps to herself, and that's what I want. You?"

You do not know how to explain Brandon.

Thankfully, before you're **** to attempt it, she looks past you and says, "Oh, god. That's slutty and cheugy at the same time. Here I was, hoping it'd died out the year we were born."

You follow her eyes and see a slim thick blonde girl in a matching pink velvet hoodie and pink velvet pants. You can only see her from behind, and her prominent derriere is noticeable. What's even more noticeable, though, is what's hanging out of it. A white lacy thong is sticking out of the top of her visible asscheeks. She is sitting there as if oblivious. Most of the guys behind her are trying to look away, but some are snickering.

"I mean, I love thongs," Emma says. "But they go under your pants."

"Maybe she doesn't mean for it to show," you suggest, ignoring as best you can how this is another example of how great college is.

"Well that still kind of implies that it's her fault. Checking yourself is the easiest thing. And she's just sitting there...I mean, honestly, are you saying she's stupid?"

You're not sure. But you do know that you have a few options, here.