August 29, 2011
A light breeze blew into the room, dancing to a carefree rhythm with the curtains caressing the white-trimmed window. This way and that, they sailed gracefully with each renewed gust. After leaving the colored fabric fluttering through the air, it moved to find a new partner, finding solace in the sheets of the nearby bed. Rushing air lifted them up, unheard music causing them to soar ever upwards.
Meghan stirred at the feeling of her covering being disturbed, the cool air caressing her skin. She willed her eyes open and yawned softly, turning to look at the clock on her nightstand.
7:59
A hum left her, sliding to the edge of the mattress and flicking a switch on the device before it could begin its incessant screeching. Meghan tossed the sheet to the side and sat up, before standing and taking a moment to revel in a prolonged stretch as her nude form adjusted to the coolness of the room. She pushed herself up and onto the balls of her feet as her muscles flexed and relaxed, sending a jolt through every fiber.
Meghan made her way to the bathroom, chancing a look into the mirror. A tired face sitting under disheveled blonde hair stared back, eliciting a grunt before she pulled the shower curtain back and started up the water. Once it got to an adequately nearly-skin-scalding temperature, she threw herself in.
A contented sigh pushed past her lips as the jets of water massaged her skin. Her mind clouded over as the streams gently yet purposefully cleansed her, sending a calming pulse through her system. Meghan wet her hair, running her fingers through the strands in an effort to appease the rebellious creature. In the current moment, the faint smell of cinnamon and the fruity soaps made this the most relaxing atmosphere she could imagine.
Years in the military had taught Meghan to be expedient about taking showers, her mind nagging her to wrap it up after ten minutes of basking in the mingling of sensory pleasures. Cutting the water, Meghan shivered at the sudden loss of heat and quickly toweled herself off while standing next to the cute little wall socket heater she picked up last week.
So worth the thirty dollars.
She opened the door, skirting out of the room as swiftly as the steam she'd been keeping as company.
Soft footsteps padded toward the chest of drawers against the far wall, taking care to be quiet as she opened them. A voice coming from the bed told her she needn't have bothered.
"Don't put that on just yet, the view from back here is too good to cover up."
Meghan scoffed, eyes rolling in her head. "Such a charmer, David."
"What can I say, babe, that ass had to have been sculpted by God himself."
She tossed an amused grin over her shoulder before slipping into a sports bra and pulling a navy blue tank top over her head. "God had nothing to do with it, honey. That's years of hard work you're drooling over. Speaking of, wash your pillowcase, you slob."
David propped his head on his left hand. "Your wish is my command…" He watched her step into a pair of underwear, eyes following with spellbound attention as dark, lacy fabric slid along flawless sun-kissed skin. "…my queen."
Meghan giggled before turning and ambling to the bed, "Good boy."
She bent down and kissed him, feeling his hand cup her cheek in an almost reverent fashion. Seconds later, it became emboldened and skated along her skin toward her chest.
Meghan smacked it away and pulled from him. "Uh uh, no sir. I just put these on. I need to get ready."
David uttered a whine. "Come on, Meg, just real quick. You don't have to leave so soon."
She shook her head and pushed him back onto the mattress, returning to the cabinet. "Says you. I am not going to be late on the first day of classes. You should be getting ready too, mister."
A short "wah" was all she got in return as she pulled on a pair of black form-fitting pants.
As Meghan laced up her boots, David uttered an exaggerated sigh. "Sometimes I wake up and wonder how I got so lucky…"
She rolled her eyes, but couldn't keep the grin from her face. "You are such a dork."
"I'm being serious, Meg! My friends are super jealous. Greg even asked where he could get one."
Meghan turned to him, arms crossed, a satisfied smirk lighting up her features. "I hope you told them that there's only one of me in the world. I can't imagine there are too many other hot military chicks around falling for software guys with D&D addictions."
David snorted before bringing a hand to chest. "You wound me, madam!" His voice was thick with mock hurt. "Though I can't say you're wrong. It helps that you're older, too, some guys are into that. Adds an extra layer of accomplishment."
A wicked gleam appeared in Meghan's eye. This should be fun.
She leaned back and frowned, retaining the posture she held moments ago. "Did I hear that right, David? Am I only a trophy to you? A rare achievement for you to gloat about to your little friends?"
His eyes widened. "N-No, babe of course not, I-"
"And did you call me old on top of that?" She walked forward and placed her hands on the bed, glaring at him.
David sat himself up, wringing his hands together, "I didn't- I mean, I wasn't trying to say that-"
Meghan flicked his nose and chuckled, his panicked expression giving her cruel enjoyment. "Relax, hon. I'm just messin' with you, I take that as a compliment."
The color returned to his face, and he sucked in worried breaths as he laughed. "You're so mean… but I'm okay with that."
She turned to the mirror on the wall, giving herself a final once-over. "Anyway, I'll be back later tonight. After capstone I'm going to the ROTC class to talk to the cadets, so if you would be so kind as to start dinner a bit later, I would appreciate it."
"Right, you got it, Meg. Hey, good luck; they'll be lucky to hear from you. "
She kissed him once more. Immediately after, she shoved David off the bed and spun around, grabbing her keys, power bar, and bag before heading to leave. Meghan swung the door closed as she yelled back to him.
"Love you!"
He groaned at the ceiling.
To Meghan's lack of surprise, the atmosphere in the semester's first capstone seminar was subdued at best. Baggy clothes, thermoses of coffee, and drooping eyes could be seen at every other seat in the tiny amphitheater-style classroom.
Something that always baffled Meghan was how infrequently most learning establishments made an attempt to make their classrooms engaging. Obviously going so far as putting flashing lights or setting fish tanks in the walls would be detrimental, but having dingy lighting in buildings complete with the color pallet of bedrock and dilapidated, fifteen year old furniture certainly doesn't stimulate the brain.
In such cases when the learning environments themselves siphon all energy from its occupants, it falls to the instructor to keep their students engaged. The professor was certainly trying to do this, with varying degrees of success. She'd introduced herself as Mary Knowles, a forty-something year old – if Meghan had to guess – woman of above average height and build, flowing reddish-brown hair draped over her shoulders like a fine shawl. Her brilliant red form-fitting blouse stood out among the drab background like a flare, subconsciously calling the attention of one's eyes without any spoken words.
Not like she was bad at speaking, though.
The woman's voice carried the authoritative undertones of someone who was upbeat and understanding, but knew when to apply appropriate correction. The experience she brought to the table was evident in the way she presented herself, despite only having started to go over what the students could expect in the coming months. Mercifully, she skipped the ever-present icebreaking activity, under the assumption that the students knew each other to some degree already, and that she would learn about them over time. As such, Meghan found herself drawn to her seminar professor already, reminded of some of her more memorable superiors in the Navy.
Mary paused, checking her watch. "Alright, I can tell that I'm starting to lose some of you, and I've said what I need to for this first session. Read over the handouts, and start thinking about what you think you can do. Prepare a short proposal for Wednesday based on the criteria in the syllabus. Have a good day, everyone!"
Notebooks and pens closed, bags shuffled, quiet murmurs spread amongst the students. Meghan sat through it, waiting for a lane to clear in her aisle, and shouldered her own bag when the room and mostly emptied. She made her way to the front of the room, where Mary switched off the projector hanging from the ceiling. Her footsteps caused the professor to hesitate and look up, a smile forming on her face.
"Ahh… Meghan, was it?" She extended a hand, and Meghan firmly grasped and shook.
"That's right. I wanted to formally introduce myself, and pick your brain a bit, if that's alright."
Mary leaned back against a table, fingers curled around the wooden slab. "Certainly! Whatcha got?"
Meghan crossed her arms in a relaxed stance. "What got you into this? You strike me as a pretty smart cookie, and I'm thinking you could've gotten a higher profile job. So why teach a senior communications course, a capstone seminar in particular?"
Mary chewed her cheek, jaw setting, as she looked directly into Meghan's eyes. "That's a bit of an interesting topic. Tell me something first, Meghan. Why do you think I'm here?"
She shrugged. "The usual 'looks good on a resume' and 'wanted to broaden my horizons' answers don't really fit. They might still be applicable, but they'd be more like a secondary goal, rather than a primary driver. If I had to guess, you wanted to be a sort of gatekeeper for those about to receive degrees."
The professor beamed at her, giving a low whistle. "Damn, that was pretty impressive. You're very perceptive, just about spot on with your assessment! Throughout my adult life, I've noticed that at least half of the major problems that occur in industry and journalism because of a lack of proper communication. I've seen it firsthand, and felt what it's like to get burned by it. My goal is to send people into the field with the proper skillset to create a more well-informed environment-"
Mary stopped herself, realizing she'd left her position at the desk and gestured wildly as she spoke. She chuckled, cheeks reddening, and rubbed the back of her neck at Meghan's bemused smirk.
"Anyway, you get the point. But I'm curious about you. Between you being a bit older than much of the class and your advanced perception, I'd say you've seen some relevant experience. Am I right?"
Meghan nodded. "You could say that. I was an intelligence specialist with the Navy, and I'm here to get a degree so I can keep moving up."
If Mary was surprised, she hid it well. "I'm not all that shocked, but I thank you for your service regardless. Though, I get the feeling there's more to it. Active duty doesn't last forever, and I'm fairly certain you know that. What comes next?"
Meghan found herself nodding in mild awe; clearly her professor was no slouch. She couldn't help but respect the woman more.
"That's actually what I wanted to get your opinion on. Now, obviously, you don't know me or what I'm like just yet, but you know that I'm military, and that I'm a cut above most of my peers – and I'm not afraid to say it."
Mary chuckled, but did not interrupt.
"After all is said and done, I was considering becoming a war correspondent. I've been where the soldiers are, physically and psychologically, and I imagine I'll be there again. I want to tell a story, the real story, of what things are like for deployed persons. Having the perspective of someone that can relate to them, I think, could only be better."
As the student spoke, the teacher placed a hand on her chin and considered the set of constants and variables in front of her. A thoughtful pause followed, and Meghan waited patiently.
"Another question for you. All of what you've told me certainly gives you the edge, and I don't doubt your conviction. But, in your own words, what would put you above and beyond the rest, worth hiring more than someone else?"
Meghan saw what she was doing, and carefully considered her response. "By the time I get to that stage in my life, I plan to have made a name for myself. But the thing is, I'm not chasing fame, I'm pursuing recognition – not just for myself, but for every young woman behind me," She struck her open palm with a fist. "There has been, and will continue to be, a push for women to join the STEM fields. That's fine, there's plenty of mileage in that. I'm trying to prove that it doesn't stop there, that we can do anything. If I show that, even after I retire from a notable active service, I'm still willing to charge into the fight for my team and tell the full, unfiltered truth…"
Meghan looked to the floor, then directly into Mary's eyes, a fire burning in her gaze. Her stance straightened, and she subconsciously clasped her hands behind her back. "That's what will set me apart."
The redhead leaned against the podium, arms bent to support her head as she watched with an enraptured admiration. "I must admit, you fascinate me, Meghan. I think you and me will get along just fine, and I look forward to helping you reach that goal."
Mary presented her hand again, but this time, the two women shook with a combined aura rivaling a pride of lions.