"School Hard"
Based on a throwaway line from "Selfless." Set at some point between 'Villans' and 'Two to Go.'
It was exam week at the University of California at Sunnydale, and everywhere, students moved furtively across campus, faces pulled in expressions of consternation. Others murmured to themselves, repeating formulas, equations, dates, theories. Trash bins were lined with the empty cups and bottles of caffeinated beverages, and the occasional harsh word about equal time in the computer lab was exchanged.
All of it was normal of course, and not just in Sunnydale, which was saying something.
What wasn't normal, however, were a few scattered instances in various classrooms over exam week. In Professor Tamworth's exam for her advanced physics class, only thirty students showed up. This was noticeable in the professor's eyes chiefly because the girl always sat front and center, quite possibly born with her hand in the air.
As the exams began, Professor Tamworth began to worry that her favorite student was backsliding into her mid-term slump. Five minutes ticked away on the clock while she played a round of solitaire on her computer and kept a weather eye out for wandering gazes.
There was something that the professors called the "exam symphony," the muted noises of scratching pencils, flipping pages, coughs, the squeaks of sneakers, and the sweetest noise to some, a quickly stifled whimper.
Click. Click.
At first, Professor Tamworth believed it only to be the mouse on her desktop acting up.
Click. Click.
That was odd. She looked around the classroom, trying to identify the source. Some new cheating device, perhaps?
Click. Click.
She'd read the reports about cameras hidden in ties, graphing calculators strapped to the thighs of skirted girls. Surely a cheating device would be more discreet than this.
Click. Click.
She gave the classroom a once-over, but nothing seem amiss. Two of the students nearest her desk looked up, distracted by the noise. Tilting her head, the professor could hear it coming from the front corner of the classroom, near the window.
Click. Click.
She got up to investigate, but the corner was bare. Dusty, but bare. A rush of cold air blew past her, and rubbing her chilled arms, Professor Tamworth looked around for an air conditioning vent - perhaps the source of the noise? But no, the air conditioners were on the other side of the classroom. Strange.
She waited, listening, but the clicking had stopped. Looking around, she noticed that several of the students were watching her in confusion. Embarrassed, she shook her head at them, and returned to her desk.
The key to her exam was open on the computer - which was strange, because she was certain she'd closed it down into its folder. No one in the classroom could have sneaked a peek while her back was turned - as intently as she'd been listening, no one could have stepped up and clicked with the mouse to open the folder.
Professor Tamworth's eyes shifted from side to side, then she decisively closed the key document. Instantly, a small box flashed a number at the top of her toolbar - a new message. She clicked on it - noting the difference in sound - and quickly read the message.
It was an urgent message from the chancellor requesting her presence in his office, regardless of any exam she might be administering at the moment. For what purpose, it did not say. She examined the address bar, wondering if the chairs of the other departments had been called to this impromptu meeting, but no, it seemed she was the only one.
It was near the end of the day, and Professor Tamworth knew that there wasn't anyone left in the building, not a TA, not another professor that wasn't already administering their own exam. She puffed her cheeks, and blew out a breath.
"Excuse me, class," she called out, standing up from her chair. A few students broke away from their exams with pleading looks on their faces. "I've just been called away to an urgent meeting. I apologize for leaving you in the lurch like this - so before I leave, I'd like you to look over the rest of the questions and see if you have any questions on the wording." She paused, making eye contact with every last student. "I also don't need to remind you that cheating only hurts you. When you're at another advanced level, or heaven forbid, in your job, and can't calculate the proper torque, you'll really wish that you had repeated this class."
Packing her satchel with her belongings, she put a lock on the computer folder with her test key inside, fielding a few questions from students who were looking over the rest of the test. Slinging her satchel over her shoulder, she wished them all good luck and walked out the door.
Ten minutes later, she was sitting in the waiting room in the chancellor's office, curious as to why she'd been kept waiting.
A door opened, and Professor Tamworth rose to her feet, seeing the consternated look on the hard planes of the chancellor's face - face lift? - she wondered irrelevantly.
"Hello, Professor Tamworth, always a pleasure to see you," he said in brisk tones, reaching out to briefly clasp her hand in his practiced grip. "What seems to be so urgent? Anything to do with your exams? Budget season?"
Professor Tamworth's mouth worked a bit in confusion. "But…but you sent me an e-mail, just ten minutes ago…I assumed you were going to tell me what was urgent."
The chancellor knitted his brow. "No - are you sure it was from me? There's a professor with my last name, new, in the music department."
"Fairly certain," the professor shot back with confidence. "You've e-mailed all the chairs a few times with news on grants. I recognized it."
"That's strange," the chancellor conceded, shaking his head. "But no, I haven't sent you anything in the past week or so. Good seeing you, though." And with that, he was off and running towards his office.
Professor Tamworth slowly turned around, wondering. Finding the nearest computer lab, she squeezed into the last available terminal and opened her e-mail account.
Aside from an assortment of spam telling her how to make her penis longer and showing her an assortment of saleable (and totally legitimate) watches for sale, there was nothing.
Ghost in the machine? She grimaced, rubbed her eyes, and decided to get back to the classroom. When she arrived, all but two students have finished, and left their exams in a sloppy pile on her desk. Waiting for her e-mail to open back up, she reflexively straightened the pile and began looking over the tests for preliminary idea on how the class did.
Good, good, okay, not okay, okay, okay, terrible, terrible, stunning - Willow?
On an exam in the middle of the pile, Willow Rosenburg's name is printed neatly in graphite at the top of the page. She looked up, but only saw one of the students bringing their exam up in a daze of relief.
"Thank you, Joey. Tell me, did you see Willow Rosenburg come in after I left?" she questioned directly.
The boy blinked, obviously not up to any more questions today. "I…I think so," he said uncertainly. "I kinda wasn't paying much attention…"
"That's all right, Joey. Have a good summer, and I'll see you in the fall. How are you progressing on that internship?" she asked. Too many phrases at once, she sighed internally to herself.
The boy blinked, not up to this barrage of words. "It's confirmed. I'll be at Penn State this time next month," he smiled uncertainly.
"Excellent. Congratulations."
"Thank you," he mumbled.
"Now go get some sleep," she said, and finally found that hint of a genuine smile in his boyish features.
Professor Tamworth turned back to her computer, looking at her e-mail. Nothing, again. How very, very odd, she thought, as the last student turned in their test and left the room. She sat alone in the empty classroom, wondering.
Elsewhere, the world begins to end.
There's a large pile of mail waiting for Willow when she gets back - mostly credit card offers and her bank statements.
But there is a thick packet from UC-Sunnydale, and she tears it open, feeling happy that she could get excited about something again. Something good, she hoped. Flipping through the pages, humming happily to herself as they all read A+, A+, A+, A+, A+, A+.
But now that she thinks about it, she can't remember taking those exams. She might have been evil, but she wasn't crazy. Her priorities were straight - big things first, and now that magic is a bigger thing in her life than schoolwork…
Oh.
Now she remembers. She also cringes a bit, for this is proof positive that no matter how evil she was, she was still Willow. Still the girl that would risk hell and high water to complete her studies - even if she is the one bringing on the hell and high water, and has to do schoolwork long-distance.
Essentially, it came down to four simple words:
School hard.
Magic easy.