(I don't own Monsters University, Pixar does. However, Lindsey, I do own, as well as the plot.)

Chapter 2

Good At What You Hate, Great At What You Love

"Everyone, into position!"

I, as well as the rest of the class, followed Professor Knight's instructions. We all stood with our arms raised and our teeth bared. Mr. Knight walked through the space between the students, a serious look on his face, and his hands behind his back. Suddenly, he turned to one student, and tapped their chin to raise their head higher. He walked on.

"We shall begin today by working on a few Scaring techniques," said Professor Knight.

I sighed internally.

"Of course," I thought.

He paused at a student.

"Crackle Holler," he said.

The student raised his head, and let out a trembling yell that caused my heart to skip a beat.

"Good."

Mr. Knight continued, pausing in front of Diana. He looked down at her.

"Slasher Smile."

Diana's eyes widened, and she smiled an large, unsettling smile. I'd be seeing it in my nightmares tonight.

"Very nice," the professor commented. He then looked at me. "Night Flyer."

I swallowed, stretching the wings on my back. I flew into the air, and swiftly flew around Professor Knight while mimicking the sound of a bat.

"Impressive," he said with a nod of approval.

Professor Knight walked on. I sighed in relief. I felt hot under my fur; showing off my skills in front of others was something I couldn't do very well without getting embarrassed. Diana looked at me.

"You were awesome," she whispered with a smile.

One could melt ice on my cheeks due to how hot they were. I feared I would pass out if I went on like this. But regardless of that, I nodded.

"Thanks," I replied.

"You're sure to make it into one of the best sororities on campus if you keep that up."

I nodded again, looking away from her. It was then I noticed that the monster standing in front of me was the same reptilian monster from last night. My eyes widened, and a soft gasp escaped my lips. The monster noticed my gaze, and jumped slightly in surprise. He didn't disappear, though. Instead, he looked away. I was curious, but I said nothing.

I was on my own. Diana was with a couple of new friends she made during the party. She had offered me to hang out with them, but I declined. We made a compromise that I would spend the day with Diana's friends tomorrow. But today, I wanted some alone time.

Flap! Flap! Flap!

My wings made slow, repetitive thumps as I flew over the campus, a satchel over my shoulder. As miserable as I was to be in the Scaring program, I had to admit, the place was so beautiful. If I were majoring in something I liked, things would be a whole lot better. Oh well, the place was pretty, so that was a plus, I guess. I spotted an empty bench, and I swooped down. I landed on the grass, folded back my wings, and gingerly took a seat.

"Hey!" a voice suddenly cried.

"Oh!" I gasped, jumping up.

Looking down at bench, I realized that I had sat on the reptilian monster from before.

"I am so...SO sorry!" I yelped. "Really, I didn't know you were-"

"It's fine, it's fine, don't worry about it," the monster said, he voice calm. He got up from the bench. "I'll just go."

"No," I said. "You don't have to leave. You must've been comfortable on that bench before I sat I you. I'll go."

"It's not like you knew," said the monster, his eyes not meeting mine. "I was the one who decided sitting on a bench while invisible was a good idea."

I was quiet for a moment, before whispering,

"Let's sit on the bench together, yeah?"

The monster shrugged, sitting back down. I sat beside him, slipping my satchel from my shoulder. Reaching into it, I pulled out a sketchpad. I looked around for some inspiration, before I spotted something: a two-headed pigeon. I stared at it, my claw drawing away as if it as a mind of its own. I was drawing a storyboard. Storyboards, in my opinion, told much better stories than ones written on paper. It was a favorite pass-time of mind. This storyboard was about a lost, two-headed pigeon named Harold who longed to find his family. Ha...it was funny. Harold's family was quite nice in comparison to mine, considering I was the one who created it...

"You draw pretty good, you know," the other monster's voice said beside me, breaking my concentration.

I looked to him, my cheeks heated. I hadn't thought he'd see my work. Quickly, I looked away.

"Thanks," I murmured.

I heard him muttering something under his breath, something about glasses. I decided not to pry. I cleared my throat; maybe I could maintain a simple conversation with this monster without submitting to my social awkwardness.

"It that, like, your special skill?" I asked. "Turning invisible?"

"It's camouflage," the monster corrected me. "And yes, it is."

"I wish I could do that sometimes," I said, envy in my voice. "I'm afraid I'll really embarrass myself in front of the other students one of these days."

The other monster scoffed.

"How?" he asked. "You look like you could be a pretty good Scarer from what I've seen you do in class."

"You think so?" I replied. "Gee...thanks...uh...I'm Lindsey. Lindsey Sadler."

"Randy...no...Randall. Randall Boggs."

"Nice to meet you, Randall."

Randall nodded slightly. I looked at my storyboard, before slipping it away.

"You're not going to draw more?" asked Randall, glancing at me.

"Artist's block," I explained simply. "Besides, it's nothing important. I'm not majoring in film."

"That looked like something a Film student would do, but fine."

We were quiet for a while. The sun passed overhead, the sky turning more and more orange. I suddenly thought of another question.

"Why were you sitting invisible on the bench?" I asked softly.

Randall shot a glance at me, before sighing, looking into the distance.

"I didn't want anyone seeing me."

"Why?"

"It's not important."

"But you aren't invisible now."

Randall looked at me once again, before suddenly disappearing.

"See you in class," I heard Randall's voice say, before the shuffling of grass signaled that he had gone. I remained on the bench alone.

I glanced at each page of my storyboard, having pinned each one of them to the wall. I looked at each image, as well as each quote. I was moved at my own work, laughing at funny scenes and tearing up at sad scenes. Diana did the same. Yes, she was reading along with me.

"I didn't know you could make comics, Lindsey," my friend chirped.

I chuckled slightly.

"It's not a comic, silly," I replied. "It's a storyboard. Films use these to set up scenes in movies."

"Oh. Cool. You make movies?"

"I used to, when I was little," I explained. "My mom would let me take her camera and film. It was good, for a kid, at least. My dad wasn't a big fan of my interests, though. He would take my camera and tell me to think more about Scaring. He was an MU graduate, the same as my mom, and so were other members in my family. Scaring is what my family does, and it's what I'm required to do."

"Really?" Diana said, tilting her head. "You majored in Scaring because of your dad?"

I nodded.

"...So...you hate Scaring?"

"Don't get me wrong, I don't hate it exactly...I'm just interested in other things. And..." Here I swallowed. "Scaring is pretty scary to me..."

Diana looked at me, wide-eyed and mouth-agape. I looked away, cringing, ready for laughter. I had gone through this before. I told few others about this, family mostly, but also the few friends I managed to make in my life. And everyone I told, laughed. But, to my surprise, it didn't come this time. I looked at Diana. She was still staring at me, but I could still see the confusion in her eyes. I sighed.

"Let me explain..." I grumbled. "Scaring's risky. You could get killed by a human's touch, or caught and experimented on by humans. It's like kicking a hornet's nest. Why do it? You're only putting your life in danger."

Diana nodded slowly as I spoke, starting to understand.

"I guess it's the thrill Scarers get from it," Diana said. "And besides, we're working to power the city. That means more lights, more electronics, more everything, really."

"I know, I know...But still, I'm not interested in near-death experiences, something my dad fails to realize. "Lindsey, we're Jersey Devils. Our legend has lived on for centuries and you'll continue that legend." That's all he ever says whenever I try to stand up to him. So why bother complaining, eh?"

In my moment of bitterness, I got up and ripped my storyboards from the wall. I crumbled them up and threw them away. There was no point in keeping them; I was no Film student, and I wouldn't be making a movie out of them. I crawled into bed, throwing the covers over myself. I could feel tears welling up in my eyes again.