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I thought I was doing well in Professor Gardner's class, but Miss Compton got me thinking. I called her office, and made an appointment for a week from Friday.

You may know where this is going, but I had no idea. Call me naïve.

Professor Pamela Gardner was close to retirement. She was a blonde, but of course at her age, she had a very good hairdresser. She was a tall, buxom woman. I'd heard students gossip that for a woman her age she wore her skirts much too short. I'd never noticed or cared.

When I arrived at her office, her secretary wasn't in. I knocked on her door. "Come in."

I was surprised; sitting on her couch was Miss Compton. "Miss Muller, MeLinda and I were just talking about you. Have a seat."

I wasn't sure what was going on. "Can you explain why you spend so much time in Professor Hallman and Professor McKenzie's office? Usually, students who aren't doing well spend time with their instructors, but your grades in their classes are all A's."

"Ummm, I-I was trying to make sure I understood everything they said in class," I lied.

...

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