My stupid, stupid girl parts and hormones got in the way for the first time ever. What in the hell was I thinking, telling Blane the place and time for tonight?
Blane Steele, man-whore—albeit celibate man-whore—notorious womanizer, and the object of at least half of my female classmates’ fantasies. The same Blane that Stanwick referred to in her class last week. She would demolish him, and then me. All because I had a crush.
“Arrrgh,” I screamed into my pillow.
Maybe he would be late, and Stanwick would have locked the doors by the time he tried to slip in. I silently prayed to every deity and pagan idol I knew of for that.
Throwing my legs over the side of my bed, I scrolled through the unread messages on my phone.
SONNY: I just got a message you won’t be in this afternoon?
Ugh, shit.
CATIE: Yes, I sent you an e-mail last week. I have a class project. If you want, I can get an excuse.
SONNY: Don’t bother. Come early tomorrow. I need the script to be organized for the fest.
CATIE: I’ll be there as soon as class lets out.
The guy was such an asshole.
SONNY: Early.
I didn’t bother with a reply. Sonny would insist on his way, and I would end up relenting. I switched to my e-mails and deleted all the spam, only to be left with one actual message regarding paid internship possibilities for the summer.
Finally, a bright spot in my crappy day. If I got the internship over the summer, I could also find a job waitressing and stay in Ohio. Then I wouldn’t have to go home to my sisters and their wrath, or my mother and her constant harping on me to act like a real woman. I’d miss my dad, but that was the breaks. He would understand . . . they didn’t call him Big Anthony for nothing.
After huffing a little while longer, I dragged myself to the bathroom and washed my face, and then changed clothes before heading out the door to Cavern Hall. As soon as I stepped outside, it began to pour down rain; not a light drizzle but huge raindrops that fell from the sky and soaked my sweatshirt, causing my hair to curl more than usual. My little backpack umbrella did little to shield me from the downpour, and I probably looked like a drowned rat when I arrived at the movie.
I pushed my dripping hair from my face as I entered the building, shaking the rain from it and then finger combing the curls into some type of style. Stopping for a moment, I set aside my wet umbrella with the others littering the floor outside the room, and brushed the droplets off my sweatshirt before I walked inside. The room was semi-dark, and I paused before deciding to head to a seat at the far left corner against the wall.
I wasn’t sure what to expect tonight because I’d never even seen a full-length porno. Was there a plot? Was there even a point? Or full frontal? Yes, I’d seen the little snippets shown in class, but I had a feeling what I was about to view was nothing like that.
“Good evening, students,” Stanwick said as she made her way down the aisle. “Welcome to movie night, or the night you all wake up to the world around you, as I like to call it. Ladies and gentlemen, you are about to see why I have made this course my life’s work. Women are not animals, or to be used purely for sexual entertainment. Women are people.”
She made her way to the front of the room and stood in front of the lectern. “If you think you will find this evening humorous, or think of this subject with anything other than with the seriousness it warrants, please leave. I will excuse you. I’m giving you two minutes before I lock the door and we begin our journey.”
Only Cora Stanwick could stand at the front of a classroom for ninety seconds and the room remain absolutely still. She checked her watch and glanced at the audience as the back door creaked open and someone made their way toward the front.
I had been in such deep thought as to whether there would be BDSM or sodomy in the films, I’d forgotten who the intruder might be. When I looked up, I saw a tall figure dressed in a hooded sweatshirt and tight jeans.
“Excuse me?”
“Sorry I’m late,” Blane said in a hushed tone and took a seat on the other side of the auditorium.
Stanwick glared at him. “Who are you?”
“I’m here for the school paper, covering how seriously committed you are to teaching future women’s studies majors, Professor.”
“They didn’t tell me they were sending someone over, but it’s fine. Please have a seat and stay quiet. This is an important part of the learning process.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“And don’t call me ma’am.”
With that, she walked over to the door and locked it before hitting the light switch, enveloping us in total darkness. Then the first movie rolled.