Thank you all for reading, please note I will not be updating super frequently as my work keeps me very busy and often a little sleep deprived. That being said, please enjoy this humble offering and don't be afraid to comment or criticize.
Summer Skies Chapter 1
It was a cool dewy Georgian morning, the kind where you knew the humidity was just about to lift its sleepy head as the sun peaked over the horizon. A tired looking college student diligently trudged up a tree lined hill toward the education building like she did every weekday morning. A note book full of half written ideas, funny blurbs, sayings, and story lines was tightly held in her left hand as the shadows of those towering oaks bathed her in the coolness of their shade. Chocolate eyes surveyed the tall oaks, the broadness of their trunks, their out stretched branches, and then lower over the crest of the hill to the track below. Those same chocolate orbs narrowed slightly in recognition as she beheld a familiar blond as she ran on the newly re-done track.
A small smile played about her lips as she observed the leggy blond. Even from where the Latina stood she could see the glimmer of sweat on the blonde's brow and how it made her clothes stick to her body. The girl was seriously hot, even sweaty, especially sweaty. Suddenly as if she could hear the Latina's thoughts, the blond on the track threw her arms skyward in some sort of victory dance.
The dark haired Latina paused in shock, What on God's green earth... she thought before distinctly hearing the blond begin to shout the chorus to "Eye of the Tiger." Chocolate eyes grew wide as she beheld the spectacle of the runner do Rocky-esque moves around the track. The dark haired Latina's lips quirked upwards as a soft chuckle escaped her lips. With a shake of her head she continued on her journey.
The Latina had seen the athletic blonde around campus for the last several months, doing odd things or just going about her business. She had a mysterious sparkle in her eye which captivated the Latina and made her curious about the blonde. Santana had never seen a person exude such confidence while attempting to charm the native rotund campus squirrels with Sriracha flavored chips or take dips in the campus water fountains. It was the combination of that mysterious sparkle, the confidence, and the quirky nature of the blonde which inspired the Latina to base the character of her first book off her.
While Santana was a celebrated graduate student in her field of literature, few knew that her passion was in writing fantasy. Her name was synonymous with awards for gritty, mental short stories which garnered her attention from faculty wishing to mentor her talent. Many in her department either looked up to the reserved Latina or were jealous of her success, as it was rare to not only be published while still in graduate school but to have awards as well. Little did her cohorts know but the reserved nature of the Latina was attributed more to her day dreaming plots or story lines then any actual intention to be aloof.
As Santana sat down in her first class of the day visions of blonde hair drifted through her mind. Bright blue eyes invaded her imagination in a land threatened by dragons. Scenes of a blonde archer running through dense thickets, stealthily creeping up on enemy soldiers, and standing triumphantly over the smoking body of a great horned green back dragon as she did a victory dance were hastily written out in the Latina's trusty notebook.
Her book was part-way written, a piece set in a land filled with Scandinavian like people who were threatened by the mobilization of dragons by a neighboring country. Her blonde heroine was a sarcastic but mischievous archer with a penchant for trouble as she gets mixed up with an assassin's guild, greedy merchants, and of course rampant dragons. It was a far cry from her short stories which were of course known for their dark gritty realism.
If only her peers knew that she preferred epic tales of myth and adventure and that her favorite book was the Lord of the Rings series, her reputation would be totally askew.
Brittany Susan Pierce had been called a lot of things in her life, but out of shape had never been on that list. Now 27 years old and working on the final year of her Psy.D, she didn't have the time she used to for sports or exercise in general. Classes, teaching classes, a growing coffee addiction, and forming a committee for her dissertation was the focus of her life. Luckily for Brittany, she had been able to make sports psychology the focus of her study and most of her patients were athletes. She had found her niche, and her creative methods for teaching freshmen psychology had earned her a reputation that had freshman and a few seniors fighting to get into her classes.
The first day of psychology usually found Brittany sitting on a desk making a paper airplane as bright eyed college students filed into the room. After laying the ground rules for class, going over the syllabus, and the usual song and dance associated not only with the first day of class but the first day of freshman classes, Brittany usually delved into something more entertaining for her.
Brittany pushed her black thick framed glasses up her nose as she looked around the class. 'Time to freak out the freshies', she thought.
" Ok, take out a piece of paper, don't worry about putting your name or anything on it." Groaning could be heard around the room as papers shuffled. The air became thicker as the students began to tense, visions of a surprise pop quiz running through their minds. A boy in the front hand shot straight into the air, but the blond motioned for him to lower his hand.
"There is always one", she thought.
Brittany seemed un-phased by the student's apprehension and continued with her instructions. " Now draw a capital Q on your forehead with the index finger of your dominate hand."
Brittany smiled expectantly while most of the class looked at her in shock at her odd request. Some students even looked down at their paper in confusion, while others still let out a nervous chuckle. The same hand, from the boy in the front, shot up a second time. Smiling Brittany turned to the young man, and motioned very slowly for him to lower his hand. "Come on, I didn't stutter." The blonde continued.
"Draw a capital Q on your forehead with the index finger of your dominate hand. After you do that, I want you to draw the Q exactly as you drew it on your forehead, onto the paper."
Brittany began walking around the class as she continued her instructions," So, if you drew it with the tail on the left, put it that way on the paper. If you drew it with the tail on the right, put it that way on the paper. If you drew it upside-down with a unicorn jumping through it, put it that way on the paper." She explained to another round of nervous chuckles.
It was clear that the blond doctoral student meant business as she looked out over the young freshmen. 'An-d freak out, duh na na na duh na na na!' Brittany thought to herself as she gazed out over the perplexed class.
Slowly, the class began to do as they were instructed all looking unsure of this strange blonde teacher. When the last person was finished Brittany then smiled at her students. "Class, this was a test to see how good you are at lying" A noise of disbelief rose in the room, which the blonde was quick to hold a hand up signaling for silence, as well as give the young man in the front row with the trigger happy hand a pointed look.
"People who draw the Q on their foreheads in a way that other people could read it, aka you put the tail on the left side are what we call high self-monitor types. People who put the tail on the right, low self-monitor types. High self- monitor types usually are concerned with how others see them and can be a bit chameleon like and adapt themselves to their surroundings. These people are good at manipulation, thus usually better at lying. Low self-monitoring types are usually more concerned with their own inner world and usually are guided by that, thus not so adapt at manipulation. These are the kinds of neat things we get to do with psychology, see you next time" Brittany explained to the class with a smile.
She was greeted with a sea of awed faces, some looking at their papers while others glanced at other classmate's Q's. When no one made a move the tall blond tried again
"See you next time means class is dismissed."
The confident blond who taught freshman psychology was a more recent development, as her friend Quinn would say. It took almost to Brittany's senior year of undergrad to gain that level of self-confidence, it was hard won for the blonde. After the loss of her younger sister in middle school the blond had never been the same. Her quirkiness turned into eccentrism and most of her classmates thought she was a bit stupid. In fact, if anyone had said" in 10 years Brittany will probably be pursuing a doctors" there would have only been laughter.
But Brittany had always had a unusual intelligence. In elementary school her science fair project was fueled by her love of artichokes. She studied the growing times of artichokes in various soil types and hydroponic solutions with extensive growth charts. The entire project was done in orange crayon to compliment the green vegetables. She had even constructed an elaborate greenhouse for her precious artichokes on the back porch. The project, while a success was docked an entire letter grade for being entirely in crayon.
In high school Brittany did a project where she calculated the economic effects of a gundam battle over Chicago and even estimated the loss of human life and property. But her classmates knew her as the girl who randomly spouted Monty python lines around school, and who would often answer with lines from the Flying Circus TV series and various movies when spoken to.
She was known as that weird girl on the soccer team who was a great athlete, but kinda weird. In high school very few people got Brittany, so it was no surprise that she lost contact with most of her high school friends. Sure Facebook had brought them into contact, but only in that way where people view profiles only to see how many pounds you put on after having 3 kids.
But all this mattered little to Brittany, she had her best friend Quinn, and she was content with her life. Even if said best friend made her go to boring plays. Today's highlights were bound to be interesting; she was going to an art show and play with Quinn. Tonight however, the tall blonde would be Quinn's wingman. The goal was to get Quinn to ask her long time crush Rachel out.
The day previously Brittany stood on the curb waiting for her ride, her foot tapped in a steady rhythm as she continued her wait. It had been a long day of classes and supervision and the tall blond was happy to be done. Finally after waiting 20 minutes, a small blue VG Bug pulled up in front of her.
"You're late"
The dirty blonde inside the Bug smirked up at her as Brittany began throwing her books into the back seat, "Tell me what's new, B."
"Prince reinvented himself into a number" the tall blonde deadpanned.
Laughter erupted in the small car as hazel eyes winked at Brittany. "Is he even around anymore?"
Brittany just shrugged in response just happy to be on her way home after a long day of classes.
"By the way B, we're going to a play tomorrow night."
"You taking me on a date, Quinny? Do I need to get sexy Brittany out?" The taller blonde suggested playfully.
Quinn shuddered delicately at the reminder of her and Brittany's first meeting. "No!"
Brittany laughed at her friend's reaction, "So what are we seeing? Is it something funny?"
"It's Les Mis" the shorter blonde stated quietly.
"Excuse me? What did I ever do to you?" Brittany exclaimed
The other blonde sighed dramatically as she clutched the wheel with white knuckles," It's a great musical B, a classic."
" I just heard you say old with oldish charm." Brittany deadpanned.
"Classic B, it's a beautiful story!" Quinn retorted.
"Set in the French revolution where many people died, uhuh".
"You have got to see the play B, just because you didn't like the book doesn't mean you should put off the play." Quinn tries again.
Brittany just stared at the other blonde, her face perfectly blank. After a few tense moments Quinn fidgeted even while trying to appear stern. "B, you're doing that psych thing again. Stop."
"What psych thing, I'm just sitting here quietly" The taller blonde states with an innocent bat of her eyelashes.
"But you're giving me the 'tell me everything about that' look. You know I hate it when you do that." Quinn grumbles.
"uhuh"
As the two pull up to the stop light Quinn throws her hands in the air and shrilly exclaims, "Now you're giving me the empathetic nod! Fine! " Quinn glances away before pushing the gas again when the light turns green. "Rachel is in it. "she finally mumbles.
"And Bingo was his name-o. B-I-N-G-O!" the other blonde retorts in a sing-song manner.
"Shut up, were going!" Quinn shrilled, her face going beet red.
"Sing with me Quinn, B-I-N-G-O !" Brittany continues, her eyes sparkling with mirth at Quinn's red face.
"…I hate you so much right now" The shorter blonde grumbles darkly while Brittany continues to obnoxiously sing.
"You love it." Brittany retorted.
Tonight was bound to be very interesting indeed.
That concludes chapter 1, again I hope you enjoyed that.