Chapter 5
My alarm goes off at 6:00 a.m., and for once, I don't hit snooze.
Today is the day.
Operation: Become Professor MacLean's Favorite Student is officially in motion.
I brush my teeth twice. Fix my hair three times. Spend fifteen solid minutes deciding between "innocent academic" and "sexy but serious." I settle on a white button-up shirt, tucked into a plaid skirt that's technically knee-length if I don't bend over too much. Add glasses for the fake intellectual vibe, even though my eyesight is perfect.
Perfect outfit. Perfect plan. Perfect morning.
I even leave early enough that the birds are still gossiping.
The walk to campus feels like I'm gliding on pure optimism. I grab a coffee, smile at a random squirrel, and think, this is my day.
Then I get to the lecture hall. It's empty — or so I think.
I smile to myself. First one here. Look at me being all punctual and teacher's-pet ready.
Then I hear it.
A soft sound at first. Then louder.
A… moan?
Wait—
"Faster," a girl pants. "Ahhh… come on, Harder....Fuck me harder.."
I freeze.
Did I walk into the wrong building? The wrong dimension?
My eyes widen as I walk further into the hall and....oh my God.
Right there, on the front desk, a girl is full-on riding a guy. Naked. Like, unapologetically naked. Her hair's wild, her breasts are bouncing, and the guy's hands are gripping her hips like they're auditioning for a scandal.
They're both moaning, lost in their own little world of bad decisions.
I just stand there. Frozen. Brain buffering.
Every cell in my body screams leave, but my feet won't move. I've never seen anyone do it outside of, well, the internet. It's like watching a car crash, horrifying, but somehow you can't look away.
Then the guy's head snaps up.
"Fucking pervert!" he snarls. "Do you wanna join us or just stand there watching?"
I flinch. "Wha—no! I—I wasn't—"
He slides off the desk, grabbing his shirt, still glaring. He's tall, sweaty, and annoyingly attractive in a frat-boy-meets-bad-decision kind of way.
"I'm talking to you," he says, stepping closer. "Why were you watching us?"
"I—ah—I wasn't—"
"Leave her alone, James."
The girl, the one who was just, you know, mid-thrust, hops off the desk like she didn't just commit several university violations. She starts pulling on her shirt casually, hair a mess, smile bright as daylight.
"She attends this class," she says, looking at me like we're old friends. "She's just early."
Her voice is bubbly and confident, like she could charm the devil into confessing his sins.
"Hi," she adds, walking right up to me, hand extended. "I'm Bree. You're Rachel, right? You introduced yourself to Professor MacLean last class."
She says it so casually I almost forget I just saw her naked.
"Uh… yeah." I shake her hand automatically. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt your—"
"It's fine," she says, waving it off. "And you're free to join next time. You're fucking hot. Right, babe?"
She turns to James, who finally stops glaring and grins.
"Yeah," he says, eyes scanning me in a way that makes my skin crawl. "She can absolutely join us."
"Thanks," I blurt, clutching my bag tighter, "but I'm good."
And by "good," I mean I want to vanish off the face of the earth.
I walk to the front row, pretending to be totally unfazed by the naked duo. I sit down, cross my legs, and pray they leave.
I hear Bree giggling behind me. "You're cute when you're flustered."
James mutters something, and then there's the sound of kissing before he says goodbye and leaves.
A moment later, Bree plops down in the seat next to mine, fully dressed now and smelling faintly of vanilla and sin.
"So," she says, as if we just bumped into each other at a café, "how's your morning?"
I stare at her. "You mean before or after the live porno?"
She laughs...this loud, carefree, unbothered laugh that somehow makes me smile even though I'm mortified.
"Yeah, sorry about that," she says, flipping her hair. "Didn't think anyone would show up this early. That was… kinda inappropriate."
"Kinda?" I raise an eyebrow. "No, inappropriate is you asking me to join next time."
Bree bursts out laughing again. "Oh my God, you're hilarious. I like you."
"I wasn't trying to be funny."
"Doesn't matter. You're still my favorite person now."
"What—no. No, I'm not."
"Yeah, you are."
"I literally just met you."
She grins like I just said something adorable. "And yet here we are, besties in the making."
I sigh. "You're impossible."
Bree tilts her head, grinning. "Lets be friends."
I blink at her. "And if I decline?"
She leans closer, resting her chin on her hand. "You can't say no to me, Rachel."
"And why not?"
"Because,"she says, smirking, "you already said no once, and you can't do it twice. That's, like, friendship law."
I blink at her. "That's not a thing."
"It is now."
I just stare, torn between laughing and calling campus security.
Bree sits back, smiling smugly, twirling a strand of her hair. "You'll thank me later. I have great taste in friends. And men."
"Clearly," I mutter.
She laughs again, then slings her arm around my shoulder. "You'll loosen up, Chess Princess. College is about making memories."
I groan. "Oh God, not that nickname again."
"Oh, I know about that," she says, eyes sparkling. "You really did win, huh? The big nerdy chess war thing?"
I sigh. "Please don't call it that."
"Fine. But you should know, you're kind of a campus legend."
"Fantastic," I deadpan.
She grins. "Don't worry. Stick with me, and we'll make new stories. Better ones. With less… chess and more chaos."
I glance at her, this gorgeous, unapologetically wild girl who just had public sex and now wants to be my friend, and against my better judgment, I laugh.
"Fine," I say. "Friends. But no more morning surprises, okay?"
"No promises," Bree says, winking.