Chapter 1

~Scott Quinn~

Tuesday August 19, 2025

It was the start of another year at the University of Southern California Ashwood(CSUA). While I still loved my job, loved instilling knowledge in young minds, it was losing its shine. They all started blending together after awhile. Maybe my ex-wife was right about my lack of passion. Of course, it isn’t surprising that getting served with divorce papers didn’t help with my energy levels.

I organized the pile of syllabus copies on the lectern while waiting for class to start. The syllabus was available online, but I always gave out a hard copy. I figured it increased the chances that a couple of students might actually read it. Either way, I’d end up getting a few thousand questions about things covered on the first page.

Students were still trickling in, many of them yawning and grumbling about having such an early morning class. There were the usual cliques, groups of friends wanting to take a class together. Although, a major-specific one like this was an odd choice. Then, there were the individuals, pretty coeds or future frat guys in shorts. Fraternities and sororities would likely start their recruitment efforts soon.

My heart skipped a beat when a striking young woman entered the room barely two minutes before the start of class. She was of moderate height, maybe five-five or five-six, with a slim, athletic frame. Her stride was graceful, indicating she had likely done some training in gymnastics or cheerleading. Midnight hair fell in a shimmering wave over her shoulders and to her upper back. Her skin was light without being pale, with only a small bronzing from the California sun indicating she spent some time outdoors.

A few guys were already checking her out, a couple had stopped talking, and it looked like one of them was drooling. She was wearing a pair of tight jean shorts revealed she had long, toned legs that flexed as she walked. Flip-flops were all she wore on her delicate feet. Her shirt was a navy babydoll top with short cap sleeves. It had a short v-neck with cute ties that were tied into a bow between her breasts. The shirt had a ruffled base that exposed hints of her flat stomach while she walked.

I got the impression she came from money; from her designer purse to her high-quality backpack, everything she had screamed of quality. Her dangling earrings held genuine diamonds, and the oval locket around her neck might have been platinum, not silver. The bracelets on her wrists didn’t look as expensive, but were clearly nice pieces.

Her face was flawless, almost like a marble sculpture. The finest artists of the renaissance could not have designed a more perfect face. A delicate nose, perfect cheekbones, and amazing features elevated her beauty to heights that could have made the most beautiful models and actresses jealous.

What struck me the most was the intelligence and kindness in her striking green eyes. She was sitting in the front row, and she smiled when my eyes made contact with hers. In those eyes, I saw a hunger, a hunger to learn. A hunger to make a difference, to help people. That hunger brought a hunger in me, not something as petty as carnal lust, but a desire to know more about that woman. To truly understand her, and to help her understand the world around us.

“Good morning, everyone!” I declared, projecting my usual confidence. “Welcome to Introduction to Administration of Justice. My name is Professor Scott Quinn, and I will be torturing you for the next few months.”

There were the usual chuckles and eye rolls in response to my comment, including a small smile from her. I continued my introduction by explaining my qualifications. I had earned both a Doctor of Jurisprudence and a Doctorate in Business Administration. I was also the chairman of the Criminal Justice department, and I often advised graduate students.

I shook my head as I realized I had just stumbled over a sentence in my daydream of sharing the world with this woman. I refocused and corrected myself, continuing to talk about the Criminal Justice department and the various career possibilities the major provided. Again and again I was drawn back to her.

And those intelligent, shining green eyes.

I had never entertained more than a passing thought of any of the women in my class before, but somehow she drew me. More than drew me – she captivated me. She captured my attention and my mind. Somehow I needed to learn more about her. Starting with her name, which I acquired while taking attendance. Just the one simple word she spoke when she raised her hand and announced her presence was enough to convince me all my observations were correct. She was a kind, passionate soul who would leave her mark on this world. I was dying to learn what made her the person who was sitting barely ten feet from me.

Since it was early morning on the first day of the fall semester, I knew many of them were sitting in their very first college class. I gave my usual speech, giving everyone some advice on how to make it through college. Naturally, I mentioned the importance of working hard and seeking help if you started falling behind. I also made sure to bring up that it was okay to party sometimes, as long as you dedicated time to studying. College wasn’t just about academics, it was also about them learning their place in the adult world.

When I was done with my welcome speech, it was time to hand out the syllabus and explain the course itself. It was what I had done in every introductory course I had ever taught. Introduction to Administration of Justice would cover the histories and theories of crime, punishment, and rehabilitation. We would also discuss the training for becoming a professional in the system, as well as the various ethics involved. It was a long class, so I had time to give a thorough introduction.

A few students came up to talk with me after class, but she wasn’t one of them. She did give me a pretty smile and a cute wave before rushing out the door, likely to another class. I answered questions for several minutes, making sure to start putting names to faces so I could get to know everyone as well as possible. For an introductory course, it wasn’t a huge class, so learning everyone’s name was realistic.

After class, I made my way to my office. I had a meeting with my graduate assistant, Daniel Ortega. He was pursuing his Master’s degree in Criminal Justice, and would be my teaching assistant for the semester. Unfortunately, he wasn’t able to make it to the first class this morning, but he would be there going forward to answer questions. He’d also have office hours if students needed extra help.

Daniel left to work on his thesis, allowing me to relax with a sports drink before my next class. My son Liam replied to my text, but there was nothing from my daughter, Violet. Shared custody, my ass. A couple weekends a month and a handful of random weekdays was not nearly enough. Yet, it was all I got. Victoria even worked at the same school Emily went to and got to see her there.

I knew my ex-wife was dating, and a few people had suggested I try to meet someone as well. The problem was that I had no idea where to look. I was too old for one of those hook-up apps like Matches, and I didn’t know if a regular dating app was for me. I hadn’t been on a date since before I got married. I also hadn’t had sex in a long, long time.

Deciding to get some work done, I logged in to my computer and opened my email. There were quite a few messages to respond to. Graduate students were dealing with the pressure, several undergrads were thinking about their majors, and a few professors had questions. I also got a text from my friend, Trevor. He was a famous LA artist and visiting lecturer.

Unsurprisingly, Trevor commented on all the beautiful coeds. I just gave him a general reply and changed the subject. I was in my late-forties, there was no point in leering at a woman who probably thought a thirty-year-old man was ancient. Sure, I could appreciate a college girl’s beauty, but I couldn’t imagine actually getting involved with someone only a few years older than my daughter.

In addition to graduate students and returning undergrads, I was likely assigned a couple of incoming freshman to advise. They would have been assigned their first semester classes already, but I would meet them all during the semester to help them choose their classes going forward.

My eyebrows rose in surprise when I saw the name of one of the new students I would be advising. It was her. I was so shocked I needed to open her student profile picture to be sure. It looked like she had been accepted to the school with an undeclared major, but very recently switched to Criminal Justice. She only got into my class a few days ago.

I didn’t fully understand my curiosity about this young woman. It was more than just her obvious intelligence and desire to learn. She had a gentle presence, an aura about her that spoke of genuine kindness. I didn’t even believe in things like that, yet I knew it was true. I vowed that I would do my best to teach and advise her. There was no doubt in my mind that she was a capable woman who would do great things. I couldn’t wait to learn more.

Just who was Kayla Thomson?

~Ashley Bartlett~

Tuesday August 19, 2025

Introduction to Psychology was my very first college class at CSUA. The 11:00AM start time was definitely preferable to high school. Even on the days I had earlier classes I’d be able to avoid feeling rushed since most buildings were just a short walk from my dormitory. Campus was like its own small city, there were parties everywhere, and I could often sleep in. College was agreeing with me.

My dorm room was on the second floor of Oakwood Commons, a dry dormitory with floors alternating by gender. Despite a terrifying first week living there, one with sirens and campus alerts, I was confident that things could go well. There had been a brief time where my parents wanted me to switch to living at home and commuting, but I convinced them I’d be fine. I was a smart girl, and I had a great roommate.

In many ways, Marcia Moore was my complete opposite. I was an extrovert: outgoing, confident, up for anything. Marcia was the quiet, responsible one who never got in trouble and worked hard. She often tried to reign me in, but was rarely successful. It was pretty normal in our friend group to jokingly call her “Mom” when she admonished us for arguing or being silly.

We were even different physically. I was a tall blonde with blue eyes, while Marcia was a petite girl with raven hair and big brown eyes. A full eight inches taller, I absolutely towered over Marcia, making it even easier for her to be overlooked at group gatherings. Although, she could hold her own when our differing personalities inevitably clashed.

The four of us had been best friends since elementary school. Hazel Collins was the third member of our group. Hazel was the one with the attitude, prone to being overtired and grouchy. It was her own fault for often staying up late and trying to function on a few hours sleep. She had a strict upbringing and was basically the second mother to her three little brothers.

Hazel wasn’t starting college with the rest of us. She had gotten pregnant on our trip to Bermuda during April vacation our senior year. Taking care of the baby would be a priority, so she didn’t bother taking one semester only to need a long break. Her religious parents had kicked her out of the house, and she ended up living at the home of the fourth member of our friend group.

Kayla Thomson was a kind and friendly girl. She was also the kind of beautiful that could stop traffic and leave even the most confident man unable to form a coherent sentence. Her parents were extremely wealthy, and the four of us always spent time at the huge mansion.

We all cried when Kayla’s mother died when we were kids. It was devastating, but it also showed how close we all were. Best friends. Kayla was enrolled at CSUA as well, but she chose to live at home and commute to campus. It was tough with her cheerleading schedule, but she didn’t want to leave her father. Or Hazel.

A light punch on the shoulder brought me back to the present. I turned to look at Lexi Davis, the newest member of our group. “Ready for the start of your college career?”

“I’m ready for attendance and dismissal,” I laughed, tucking a strand of loose hair behind my ear.

“Oh, you’re fine,” the redhead rolled her eyes. “This is your first class of the day. I just came from Statistics with Kayla. And that wasn’t even her first class.”

“Right,” I winced. “The only criminal justice course Kayla could get into started at 7:50AM.”

“She has her art class with Marcia right now, then cheerleading this afternoon,” Lexi continued.

“But, she has Fridays off,” I pointed out.

“Nope,” Lexi shook her head. “No classes, but cheer practice on Friday starts at 6:00AM.”

“How are you supposed to enjoy college with cheer practice six days a week?” I wondered. “When’s she gonna party?”

“Saturday night?” Lexi suggested while taking a notebook out of her backpack. “I’m done for the day after this class, but you have one more, right?”

“Introduction to Ethics at 1:30,” I confirmed. “We’re all meeting for lunch, right?”

“Yup,” Lexi chirped.

“Good,” I nodded, pulling out my laptop. “I’m starving.”

The lecture hall was huge; far, far larger than any classroom I had been in during high school. It was similar to the lecture halls I’d seen in movies, with a bowl of tiered seats that led down to a single podium in front of a wide whiteboard. Lexi had insisted that we sit in the front row, a huge contrast to the way she’d sit in the back during Calculus.

Students were quickly filing in; the lecture hall was buzzing with the energy of the first day of classes. People were talking, looking for friends, and moving seats. Laughter and conversation filled the air, making it difficult for me to hear Lexi. A few guys checked us out as they walked by, but I was glad no one sat beside us. I was interested in meeting new people, but I didn’t see a reason to find someone to talk to just yet.

A short woman in her forties walked into the lecture hall, followed by a handsome guy in his twenties. The woman stood at the podium, her dark hair pulled into a bun. She placed her briefcase on the podium and waited. Neither of them said a word, they just stood there and watched the room. The chatter died down much faster than I thought it would.

“Good,” the woman said with a slight accent. “That’s your first lesson.”

There were a few snickers.

“I’m Doctor Valerie Chen, and this is my teaching assistant, Marco Rivas. Welcome to Introduction to Psychology,” Doctor Chen glanced around the room. “Most of you are here because this course fulfills a general education requirement and it fit your schedules. Some of you are here because you think psychology will help you understand other people.” She paused for a heartbeat. “And a few of you are here because you think it will help you understand yourselves.”