this is one of those random ideas that i have in the middle of the night. it's pretty weird...but what the hell. read on! and this is a bit of a tribute to "Rumors", a story by EloraCooper4. It's got a little of the same structure to it, basically because that story rocks and i liked the idea. hee hee.
Lizzie slid into her seat, looking back and forth across the classroom. Students were slowly coming in and drifting to their usual places, chatting and laughing and chewing gum. Usually, she spent the before-class time talking with Miranda, but her roommate was sick today; Lizzie had warned her against the suspicious looking clams at the cafeteria, but nooooo, she had to eat them. And now Miranda was curled up in bed, whining and shivering and turning an interesting green color. Lizzie sighed and flipped open her textbook. Might as well get something done…
"Hey, would you mind skooching over?" said someone. Lizzie looked up to see a young woman with tangled brown hair and a purple-blue tie-dye shirt leaning towards her from the aisle. Behind the woman were five other people: two blonde men, one with glasses, a black woman who had a cell phone peeking from one coat pocket, a Latina with giant brown eyes, and a Hispanic young man with short cropped hair and a strikingly effeminate face.
"Oh…sure." Lizzie got up and moved down a few seats; it seemed that Sam and his buddies were skipping class again, which opened up the row. Smiling gratefully, the woman edged in and sat down beside her, gesturing at the others in the aisle to sit in the vacant chairs.
"Thanks, honey," said the Hispanic man, flashing Lizzie a brilliant smile. She blushed and nodded; Miranda always told her she needed more confidence around men. Then it hit her. Had he said honey?
"Roger, move over, I'm falling off the seat," complained the Latina as she took the seat that opened onto the aisle. The blonde man without glasses (who, Lizzie noticed, was pretty hot) rolled his eyes and pulled the Latina into his lap. She giggled and wrapped her arms around his neck. The black woman, who was sitting next to them, sighed.
"Do you two have to do that every time we sit down anywhere? I mean, we're visiting Collins for God's sake; this isn't the Life." The woman with brown hair leaned over and poked the black woman in the stomach.
"Pookie, leave them alone. You just feel lonely because I'm waaaay over here…"
"Thank God for small favors," muttered the blonde man with glasses. The Hispanic man stifled a laugh and patted the blonde's leg.
"Let it go, Marky. Let it go." Lizzie smiled in spite of herself. She was intrigued by these people. They didn't seem like students, and she was pretty sure that she had never seen them around campus before. She was just about to ask if they were new to NYU when Professor Collins, who had been bent over something on his desk, straightened and turned to face the class. His eyes focused on the right half of the classroom, which meant he didn't see the six new strangers.
"All right; which of you lazy bums actually got off your asses and read those chapters I assigned yesterday?" Professor Collins looked around the classroom and raised his eyebrows as three hands tentatively went up. Lizzie cringed; she had been up last night helping Miranda, and she hadn't remembered to do it. Beside her, the strange group giggled and whispered to each other.
"I see. Well now, ain't that a pity. Because I got a rule, you know, and this rule has to do with people like you, who don't bother to read four damn chapters on a Wednesday night. Anyone remember that rule? Max, how about you?" The pimpled boy in the second row looked up nervously. The other students leaned forward, eager to hear his answer. Beside Lizzie, the woman with brown hair grabbed the Hispanic man's arm and whispered something loudly. The man had to work hard to stifle his laughter; he shook with the effort.
"Um…I know this…something about oatmeal?"
"C'mon, man, that's the talking-in-class rule. I want the didn't-do-the-easy-assignment rule." Another hand shot up to the left. Professor Collins turned and pointed at the girl who it belonged to.
"The rule is that anyone who didn't do the work has to sit on the lap of the person next to them." There was a general groan from the rest of the class, and Professor Collins nodded happily. The group of six burst into barely contained laughter, elbowing and nudging each other with glee. Lizzie looked at them with raised eyebrows; she wondered what it was they found so funny. Sure, she liked Professor Collins's antics as much as the next kid. But there was obviously some inside joke they had that she didn't get.
"And Alexa, I'm just taking a shot in the dark here, but is that why you chose to sit next to Jeremy today?" Both Alexa and the boy sitting next to her turned bright red. The rest of the class laughed, and Professor Collins spread his arms wide, like her was going to hug them all or something. His eyes swept across the back row, missing Lizzie and the new people yet again.
"You heard the girl. Move it!" The students, having prior knowledge of Collins, did not question if he was actually serious or not. Instead, they began whirling back and forth, trying frantically to decide which of the people on either side of them was the more desirable. The three kids who had done the reading looked jealous; especially Diane, who was sitting next to Eric Nacomber, also known as the captain of the varsity football team.
Lizzie sighed and looked to her left. She had scooted down so far that she was sitting next to Brad Connor, whose girlfriend was already clambering into his lap. Lizzie realized that the person on her right was the brown-haired woman. She turned and saw that the group seemed to find the whole thing incredibly amusing. They were snorting and giggling and pointing down at the professor with delight. The blonde man and the Latina looked very smug, and his arms were wrapped tight around her waist. Much to the glee of the rest of them, the Hispanic man seemed to be trying to get the black woman to sit in his lap. Finally, rolling her eyes and heaving an exaggerated sigh, she got up and sat delicately on his lap. That set the rest of them off.
"Um…excuse me?" she said tentatively, tapping the brown-haired woman on the shoulder. The woman turned to face her, still laughing. Finally, she calmed herself enough to speak.
"You want s-something, girl?" she said, stuttering with leftover giggles. Lizzie shrugged apologetically.
"I…I didn't do my reading, and since the guy beside me is sort of occupied…" she trailed off, gesturing ruefully over her shoulder at Brad. The woman stared at her for a moment; Lizzie realized that the rest of them were doing so too. She began to feel uncomfortable. They were obviously close friends, she shouldn't have interfered…
"Sure! My lap is your seat, ma'am!" giggled the woman. Lizzie felt a twinge of relief, which was quickly stifled as the black woman leaned over and grabbed the brown-haired woman's arm, whispering fiercely and angrily to her. The others gave each other looks and raised their eyebrows. Lizzie had half-risen from her seat and she stayed bent over, feeling strangely nervous.
"Fine, Pookie! But it's either her or Mark; take your pick!" the brown-haired woman squeaked. The black woman thought for a moment.
" Mark. I know where he lives; it won't be hard to make him pay." The black woman's voice held no trace of joking. The blonde man with glasses paled and held up his hands in protest, while the Latina whistled and the Hispanic man gave her a look. The brown-haired woman sighed and shrugged. She turned to look at Lizzie apologetically.
"Sorry, but the authorities intervened. Just…you know, hunch down in your seat and he won't notice. Trust me, he's half blind." With that, she stood and edged down to sit in the bespectacled blonde's lap. He sputtered and looked back and forth as if trying to find an escape, but he was trapped. The black woman settled back on the Hispanic man's lap, satisfied. Lizzie sat back down, now more curious and intrigued than before. These were not your everyday college students.
"Ok! Everyone comfy?" Professor Collins called. There was a general affirmative reply from the class, which now looked strangely lumpy and bumpy as a whole since half the seats were empty and the ones that were full had twice as many people in them. It was mostly girls on boys' laps and girls on girls' laps, although several of the boys had embarrassedly sat on each other. All of the people on the laps were trying to figure out how to hold their books and papers and pencils and not fall backwards or forwards. The ones who had people on their laps were awkwardly leaning forward, trying to find a way to write without knocking their passenger off or breaking their own arms.
"Good. Now then, let's talk about what those chapters discussed, shall—" Professor Collins stopped in mid-sentence, his eyes riveted on Lizzie. She cringed and thought, here it comes…
But nothing happened. Slowly, Lizzie registered that Professor Collins wasn't staring at her, but at the group sitting beside her. The rest of the class looked confused, unable to understand what was fixating their teacher like that. The group, however, knew he saw them. They were barely suppressing laughter, and the grins on their faces were smug. Finally, the Hispanic man and the brown-haired woman raised their hands and waved casually at Professor Collins. This seemed to snap him out of his trance.
"Um…yeah…okay, sorry. What were we talking about?" he said in a flustered voice. Students called out the answer, but Professor Collins didn't seem to really hear. He just walked back to his desk while sneaking glances at the six people sitting beside Lizzie. She was surprised. It took a lot to throw off Professor Collins.
Lizzie watched the group out of the corner of her eye. They seemed to enjoy the amount of discomfort they caused him. In fact, the brown-haired woman looked rather proud as she gestured down at Professor Collins. After a minute, Lizzie found her curiosity overwhelming. She tapped the woman on the shoulder.
"Hey…sorry to bother you again, but are you guys new here?" The woman whirled to face her. All the rest of the group glanced down the row, aware that someone was addressing one of their number.
"Well…yes. Yes we are." The woman sounded like she was trying to stifle a laugh. "You might say that none of us has ever been in a class like this before at all." Lizzie frowned.
"So did you transfer in or something?" The woman shrugged.
"I guess it could be called that. It was a spur of the moment thing, you know?" Lizzie was confused. Transfer wasn't exactly something you decided while drinking your morning coffee.
"I didn't think Professor Collins had approved any transfers or anything…" Lizzie said uncertainly. The woman smiled.
"He hasn't." Lizzie opened her mouth ask what she meant, but decided to close it. Chances were she wouldn't get a straight answer anyway.
The class was an interesting one, or at least more interesting than usual. All the way through, the brown-haired woman kept leaping up and down, calling out some question that was completely unrelated o the topic. Professor Collins tired ignoring her at first, but the other students soon piped up with, "Professor, what is the scientific name for a potato?" and "Hey Professor, I want to know the average weight of a capybara too." Professor Collins finally gave in and answered the inane questions, obviously making up most of the answers. The brown-haired woman looked quite pleased with herself. Lizzie was starting to like her.
The class ended too soon, and most of the students were reluctant to get up (this did not include those unfortunate souls who had to serve as chairs; most of them had no feeling in their thighs). As they grudgingly gathered up their books, many people sent cheerful "Nice class today!" or "Will you be all week?"-type comments toward the brown-haired woman, who stood and accepted them like a queen. Her friends rolled their eyes and stood, stretching out their limbs.
" Joanne, honey, you've got some bony buns. I'm gonna get twin bruises on my legs tomorrow," groaned the Hispanic man as he gingerly stood up. The other men snorted and the Latina giggled. The black woman looked shocked.
" Angel! I do not have bony…I do not!"
"She doesn't, Angel, I can vouch for that," added the brown-haired woman. The blonde man with his arm around the Latina whistled, and the Latina smacked him on the arm. The other blonde turned red for pretty much no reason, and the Hispanic man shrugged happily.
"Whatever. C'mon, let's go." They edged out into the aisle. Lizzie felt a sudden alarm at the fact that they were leaving; but then she heard Professor Collins call, "Hey! You six…gets your asses down here!"
"Oooooh, we in trouble now," said the Latina. The others snorted and descended down the aisle's small incline to Professor Collins' desk and the blackboard. Lizzie followed them with her eyes, watching as they approached the professor. Professor Collins might be a fun teacher, but he could make any college student cry when the need arose.
He appeared to be speaking sternly to the group. They were obviously amused by the whole thing. Lizzie winced internally as the brown-haired woman crowed with laughter. She would be regretting that for a long time if she kept it up. Annoying him from the safety of the seats was one thing, but acting like that when you were in grabbing distance…hazardous to your health. Lizzie saw Professor Collins gesture at the brown-haired woman. The others laughed.
Then the Hispanic man slapped Professor Collins' ass.
Lizzie's eyes widened, and she nearly gasped. Around the room, other people were blatantly showing sings of shock; she hadn't been the only one spying on them. The only kind of student who would do something like that was one who had overworked themselves with finals and decided to just end it all. It seemed certain that there would be some kind of eruption; hopefully one that wouldn't result in loss of human life.
Hopefully.
But nothing happened. On the contrary, Professor Collins laughed and put his arm around the Hispanic man's waist. He was grinning now, and the others were too. The Latina said something that made them all burst out laughing, and then they all gave Professor Collins' hugs. Lizzie felt a little freaked out. It was weird to think of teachers having friends at all…but friends like these? No professor had friends who would act like that around him, Lizzie felt certain about that. These people couldn't be for real. And yet…she got the weirdest feeling that they were.
Professor Collins' took a break from laughing long enough to realize that a third of the class was still there and was staring at him. He laid a hand on the black woman's arm to make her pause in her somewhat elaborate-sounding explanation and called to the class, "For those of you who evidently need a little help with stuff like this, when the long hand of the clock is on the twelve and the little hand is on the three, it means class is over and you can leave. If you need anymore assistance with the concept, let me know."
The class blushed as a whole and hurried towards the door. Lizzie was the last one out; as she left, she turned and got a last view of the group. The blonde with glasses was laughing about something, while the Latina was poking the hotter blonde. The black woman looked annoyed, and the brown-haired woman was trying to tickle her. Professor Collins and the Hispanic man seemed to be in a lip-lock.
Lizzie hurriedly looked away. As she let the door fall closed, she heard someone's shouts echo up from the classroom.
"You two are disgusting! I can't believe that—Pookie, get back here! Where are you go—Pookie!" Lizzie walked away faster.
Transfer students, her ass.