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(Midterm Maelstrom, continued...)

You go over to Lara, who is a year ahead of you, two years older than you, and more than a little bit intimidating. She gives you a little half-smile which is impossible to read, but she doesn’t tell you to go away, so you sit down next to her.

“Have you finished writing your midterm paper for Sullivan’s class yet?” you ask.

“Naw,” she yawns, “I never do anything before the last minute. Besides, I’m pretty sure Sullivan doesn’t bother reading papers: he just scans them for key words and phrases and grades by word count. Have you read his book? The man is kind of a douche.”

You have read his book, and you largely agree with Lara’s assessment. “Did you really sleep with him?” you blurt out, and immediately regret it.

Lara rolls her eyes and takes a big swallow from her beer. “Sheesh, you screw one lousy professor, and you get yourself a reputation. I fuck whoever I want, whenever I want, and I don’t make any apologies for it. And I get good grades because I’m smart, and because I work hard.”

That isn’t actually entirely true; Lara is the queen of turning work in late and missing labs; but she is smart, there is no doubt about that, so point taken.

“Hey,” she says, setting her empty beer bottle on the floor, “You wanna see something funny? Follow me out back.”

Without waiting to see if you are going to follow, she gets up and heads for the back door. You watch her ass wiggle as she walks, soft and jiggly in those loose, faded blue jeans. There is a lot of surface area. For the first time, you realize why she gets so much male attention: it’s not because she has a swimsuit-model’s figure, she doesn’t. It’s the attitude.