Chapter 5

Monday, Aug. 20, 8:39am

She pulled onto campus and immediately saw that she would have be be here bright and early for a decent parking space. As it was, she ended up almost a half mile away from the building with her class in it. She walked across the campus, a stranger amid a sea of strangers. The Quad was nice, centered amid the library, science building and the main building. She entered, passed the Counseling Pit and took the stairway up to the floor her first class was on.

Finding the room, she paused, hand on the door, although she was already late. She had seen this man twice so far, in open ways that one normally didn't see one's teacher, especially when he didn't know she existed yet. And there was ... something about him ... Sarah opened the door and stepped in ... and then stopped. There were only three other students in the class. Mr. Sim-mons leaned back against the large table that he was using as a desk, turning his head to her as she entered.

Bill looked as someone entered, and felt his breath catch. A young woman, blonde, beautiful, stood at the door, book bag in hand. He released his breath and smiling, said, "Come on in. Being late on the first day doesn't mean much ... it's impressive that you showed."

Sarah smiled and stepped in, taking a seat in the front row. Eyes going briefly to her lovely legs, Bill cleared his throat and stood, moving around the table to take a seat.

"Okay. For those of you who've made the effort to be here today - and, I see, with your text books - we won't be doing much. I'll go over what's required of you to pass, and what I require from you for the better than passing grade."

Crossing his arms and leaning forward on the table, Bill continued, "First, there is no curving grade here. I have tenure - don't have to worry about that kinda thought. Don't rely on the apathy of many of your fellow classmates to assure you'll pass. You'll be surprised if you do. We'll be examining various authors of the last two hundred years..."

Sarah watched and listened with half of her concentration. The other half was ... examining the man before her.

Dressed in jeans, sneakers (old, and needing replacing), a grey half-sleeved button up shirt with a Tasmanian Devil tie (she chuckled silently), he was everything she hadn't pictured a pro-fessor being, yet utterly confident in his position. His body language spoke volumes - he loved his job, and couldn't imagine anything else.

Settling her chin on her palm, her elbow on the desk, she watched him work.

Bill found his eyes returning again and again to the young blonde, but maintained his com-posure and professionalism.

Near ending his speech, he continued with, "Now, sad to say, you'll have to hear all of this again on Wednesday, our next class. As you should now by now, I am Professor Bill Simmons. I will refer to you by your first names, since last names leave my memory as fast as they enter. If I can assume this form of intimacy, you may call me Bill, Professor Simmons, or professor. Can I have your names, starting with the right side. Wednesday I'll pass around cards for you to fill out."

The students complied, and finally it was Sarah's turn. Bill was all ears as her sweet voice said, "Sarah Prescott." And, he noticed her smile. Hard to miss when the whole room lit up with it.

Bill nodded. "Good. If I forget your name, realize that with age, you too will one day be as absent minded as I. That's it for now, ladies and gentlemen. Have a good day."

The students stood and filed out. Sarah held back, and then approached Bill's desk. He looked up from notes he was jotting down, and smiled.

"Yes?"

Sarah held her hand out, saying, "Pleased to meet you, sir. I look forward to your class."