Sisterhood 101
Copyright© 2025 by WittyUserName
Chapter 11
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 11 - Kayla and her friends have graduated high school. Now it is on to college and the real world. New adventures, new loves, new friends. Yet, their crazy senior year in high school is not done haunting them. This story is a direct sequel to Birthday Pool Party. I did attempt to write the first chapter in such a way that someone who hasn't read Birthday Pool Party could follow along, but reading Birthday Pool Party first will enhance the experience.
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Fa/Fa Consensual Romantic Lesbian BiSexual Heterosexual Fiction Crime Humor School Tear Jerker Sharing Incest Father Daughter Light Bond Rough Spanking Group Sex Polygamy/Polyamory Anal Sex Cream Pie Double Penetration Exhibitionism Facial Massage Masturbation Oral Sex Petting Pregnancy Sex Toys Spitting Tit-Fucking Voyeurism
~Kayla Thomson~
Wednesday October 22, 2025
The clock on the wall read 3:21PM when Lexi and I walked into the District Attorney’s Office. It was a mundane office, with beige walls, gray carpet, and pamphlets arranged on a side table. Various people walked past carrying stacks of folders and steaming cups of coffee.
The woman behind the reception desk looked up as we approached. “Can I help you?”
“I’m Kayla Thomson and this is Alexis Davis,” I said nervously. “We have an appointment with ADA Jordan Wells.”
“Of course,” she checked something on her computer. “Have a seat. I’ll let him know you’re here.”
“Thank you.”
We walked over to a row of chairs along the opposite wall and sat down. I pulled out my phone and sent a couple of texts while Lexi started sifting through the pamphlets on the wall. When I looked up from my phone, I noticed Lexi holding a pamphlet and staring down at it.
“What?” I asked.
“Nothing?” Lexi frowned.
“You’re making a face,” I said.
“I’m reading.”
“You don’t make that face when you read,” I smiled teasingly. “It’s more of a confused face while you sound out big words.”
Rolling her eyes, Lexi turned the pamphlet around so I could read the title.
“YOUR RIGHTS AS A CRIME VICTIM.”
“Oh,” I mumbled quietly.
“Yeah,” Lexi put the pamphlet back.
“You nervous?” I asked after a few seconds.
“No.”
I raised an eyebrow.
“Yes,” Lexi sighed.
“Me too,” I nodded.
“Good.”
“Good?” I frowned.
“I know what they’re capable of,” Lexi mumbled. “You should be nervous, but I won’t let them hurt you. Ever.”
The door beyond the reception desk opened before I could respond. A tall black man in a charcoal suit stepped through. He was about Daddy’s age, maybe a few years younger, and actually really sexy. We’d met Jordan Wells before through Sarah, but I was still nervous about the meeting.
“Kayla? Alexis?” Jordan asked politely.
“Unfortunately,” Lexi sighed as we both stood.
“Thanks for coming in,” Jordan said. “Please follow me.”
Jordan led us through a secured door and down a hallway lined with offices. People nodded to him as we passed; everyone seemed to know him. He brought us into a conference room with a long wooden table, several chairs, and a whiteboard covering most of one wall. A thick folder sat near the head of the table, and I recognized my own name on a tab sticking out from somewhere inside it.
That was weird. Really fucking weird.
“Make yourselves comfortable,” Jordan gestured toward the chairs.
Lexi sat beside me, and Jordan took the seat across from us. Him not sitting at the head of the table somehow made things less intimidating. I had been expecting to be separated from Lexi right away, but was pleasantly surprised that Jordan wanted to talk to us together first. He opened the folder as I took Lexi’s hand beneath the table.
“Before we get started, I want to make something very clear,” Jordan said. His expression remained friendly, but his voice became more serious. “Today isn’t about teaching either of you what to say.”
We both nodded.
“It’s about making sure you understand the process, reviewing what you’ve previously told investigators, and preparing you for the kinds of questions you may be asked,” he explained as he looked between us. “My job isn’t to give you answers. It’s to make sure you’re comfortable giving your own.”
“That makes sense,” Lexi said quietly.
“First, scheduling,” Jordan continued, pulling out a sheet of paper. “Jury selection is currently scheduled to begin Monday, November third.”
My stomach tightened. November third. That was so close. I’d received the subpoena, I’d talked about it with Daddy, with Lexi, with the other Sluts. Hearing the actual date from an assistant district attorney somehow changed everything. I could tell Lexi was thinking the exact same thing.
“If Jury selection stays on schedule,” Jordan said slowly, “we expect opening statements shortly afterward.”
“When do we testify?” Lexi asked.
“That’s harder.”
“Why?” the redhead wondered.
“Trials are unpredictable,” he folded his hands on the table. “That’s a big reason why most cases are settled out of court. We’re still hoping we can force a plea. It’s not unheard of for one to happen last minute, or even mid-trial.”
“But, if not?” I asked in a small voice.
“There are still factors that can delay your testimony,” Jordan explained. “A witness takes longer than expected, an evidentiary issue comes up, court starts early or late. The defense could even request time to address something.”
He shrugged. “I can give you an estimate when we get closer, but I don’t want either of you planning your lives around a date I can’t guarantee.”
I nodded. “What about classes?”
“Your professors will receive whatever documentation you need,” Jordan promised. “Needing to appear in court is always an excused absence.”
“My cheer coach will love that,” I giggled.
Jordan smiled. “Generally speaking, judges outrank cheer coaches.”
“Generally?” Lexi raised an eyebrow.
“I’m a lawyer,” he shrugged. “We don’t like absolute statements.”
“Makes sense, I guess,” Lexi replied.
“Now,” Jordan continued, “when you’re actually called, you’ll be sworn in and take the witness stand. I’ll ask questions first.”
“Direct examination,” I said without thinking.
He looked at me with interest.
“We learned about it in Intro to Criminal Justice,” I explained.
“At CSUA? Which professor?” Jordan asked.
“Professor Scott Quinn,” I answered. “He’s my advisor, too.”
“Good professor,” he nodded in approval.
“You know him?” I questioned.
“We’ve met a few times,” Jordan smiled. “Yes. Direct examination. After I’m finished, defense counsel gets an opportunity to cross-examine you.”
“That’s where they try to make us look like liars,” Lexi said grimly.
“Yes, but there’s a couple of rules that will make your lives easier,” he explained. “First, listen to the entire question. Second, answer only the question you were asked. Third, if you don’t understand, say so. And finally, if you don’t know or don’t remember, say that.”
“Doesn’t that look bad?” Lexi questioned.
“No,” Jordan shook his head. “Guessing or lying looks bad. Just answer the question as asked, and only the question. Let me worry about the rest. The jury will understand you don’t remember every word said to you months ago. What matters is that you’re honest about what you remember and what you don’t.”
“What if the defense keeps asking the same thing over and over?” Lexi asked.
“They might.”
“Why?” I wondered.
“Sometimes for clarification, but they’re probably hoping your answer changes,” Jordan said.
“I’m gonna get pissed off, aren’t I?” Lexi crossed her arms.
“You’re allowed to have emotions, Alexis,” Jordan smiled. “You’re just not allowed to let the defense attorney control them.”
“You also have to make sure you can control them,” I added.
“Don’t worry,” he told us. “We’re going to practice.”
“Okay,” I mumbled.
“I’ll meet with you both separately, just like you won’t be able to be in the courtroom when the other is testifying,” Jordan told us before looking at Lexi. “If you’re ready, I’d like to start with you, Miss Davis.”
I sat outside Jordan’s office and played on my phone while Lexi was inside. It wasn’t easy to relax while I was thinking about what they were talking about. Lexi reliving her assaults, reliving the kidnapping, everything. I also knew there were a lot of things she didn’t remember.
Kelsey had her own prep meeting the day before, and she wouldn’t talk about it at all. Fuck, I was so nervous. It didn’t help that I had plans for dinner that were also anxiety provoking. Remembering the 5-4-3-2-1 method from therapy, I used it while waiting for my turn.
The conference room door opened after about forty-five minutes. Lexi stepped into the hallway first, her arms crossed and expression difficult to read. Jordan followed behind her carrying the same thick folder that had been on the table almost an hour before.
I stood. “How’d it go?”
“Terrible,” Lexi sighed.
“You don’t have to wait for me,” I told her.
“I’m staying,” the redhead insisted, taking my recently vacated chair and crossing her legs.
Jordan held the door open. “Come on in, Kayla.”
I stepped inside, jumping slightly when the door clicked shut behind us. Swallowing weakly, I slowly made my way to my chair and sat down. Jordan sat down across from me and opened the folder. I saw my name again as he started pulling out several pages.
“This is the statement you gave Detective McLorn,” Jordan said. “We’re going to go through the events chronologically.”
“Everything?” I gulped.
“Everything relevant,” he smiled. “I know you’ve already been through this several times, but there’s a difference telling your story in court.” “Everyone will hear what he did to me,” I mumbled. “What he made me do to him.”
“Yes,” Jordan stated seriously. “I’m not going to lie to you, it won’t be easy. You’ll be asked to describe the assault in detail. If the defense thinks you’re upset, they’ll ask the same question ten different ways. Just be calm, use clinical terms, and answer the question.”
“Okay.”
Jordan Wells was very thorough. The trial had a lot of moving parts, with multiple defendants and charges. I had to explain my history with David, that our sexual relationship was consensual, and that I’d sent him nude photos intentionally. It didn’t help that I thought Jordan was really cute.
I asked a few questions of my owned, worried the jury would see my tits on screen in a courtroom or something. Then we went over how I met Lexi, then Keith. How Lexi ended up moving in with us, as well as the party where Keith raped me. I knew they had a video of my assault that the psychopath had taken.
Finally, we reached the day of the kidnapping. Reliving that again was a nightmare. The gun, Lexi shielding me, Keith bringing us to that motel and making us take our clothes off. I held back tears as I described him forcing himself in my mouth. Then to biting down. Fuck, it was emotional and embarrassing.
At one point Jordan asked me exactly where someone had been standing.
“I don’t remember,” I answered honestly.
He nodded and made a note. Then a few minutes later he asked me for the exact words Keith had shouted.
“I remember what they meant,” I replied.
“That’s not what I asked,” Jordan said.
“No,” I told him.
“No?” he looked at me with a raised eyebrow.
“I don’t remember his exact words.”
Another note. Jordan was easy to talk to. He didn’t criticize or express disappointment, he just gently corrected me and moved on. Jordan also repeatedly asked if I needed to stop and told me I was strong for confronting my attacker. That made it easier to continue.
“Okay,” Jordan looked at me. “Now we’re going to practice cross examination.”
I sat up straighter. “Okay.”
“Before we start, I want you to understand what I’m doing,” his expression grew more serious. “I’m deliberately going to make this uncomfortable.”
“How uncomfortable?”
“Depends how easily annoyed you are,” Jordan folded his hands. “Don’t think of me as the prosecutor while we’re doing this. I’ll be playing the defense counsel.”
“You’re switching teams?” I asked.
“Temporarily,’ he answered.
“Traitor,” I smiled nervously.
He laughed lightly. “You ready?”
“As I’ll ever be.”
Jordan’s expression changed. Not dramatically, but still noticeable. The warmth disappeared as he sat straighter.
“Miss Thomson, let’s continue talking about that party,” Jordan said, his voice clipped and cold. “Do you actually remember having sex with Keith Strulk?”
“No, I don’t remember,” I answered calmly.
“Had you been drinking?”
“Yes,” I felt my shoulders tense.
“How much?”
“I don’t remember,” I looked away from him.
“And you’re asking this jury to rely on your memory?”
“There’s a recording of him raping me!” I hissed.
“That wasn’t my question,” Jordan stated calmly.
“You’d asked if I’d been drinking. I had been! That doesn’t mean I wasn’t-”
“Miss Thomson,” he cut me off. “Please answer the question.”
“What was the question?”
“You’re asking the jury to rely on your memory after you’d consumed alcohol?” Jordan asked.
“Yes,” I grunted.
“Despite admitting there are portions of the evening you can’t remember precisely?” he questioned.
“Everyone forgets little details,” I reasoned.
“Is that a ‘yes?’”
I gritted my teeth. “Yes.”
Things only got worse. Jordan knew exactly what to ask and how to ask it in order to get under my skin. He explained after how answering in frustration gave him information, gave him control. By the end I was not happy. I was relieved it was over, at least.
I hugged Lexi tightly as soon as I saw her, clinging to the redhead for several seconds. Jordan gave us each a card, reminding us to call him if we needed anything. Lexi and I left together, heading out to our cars. I hugged her goodbye before facing my next challenge. Dinner with my exes.
Ian Krause was so smart; he had gotten accepted to MIT, leading to our breakup. I was also dating Stephanie Bernardi, who had decided to attend Boston University in order to stay with Ian. The two left me alone and heartbroken, however Stephanie needed to return to California to testify about what happened to her.
We met outside the restaurant and exchanged hugs. Stephanie looked the same as always; tall, dark hair, beautiful. Ian had filled out a bit, putting on some muscle. Damn, he was really cute. Same dirty blond hair, those light blue eyes. I wanted them both. Maybe it wasn’t good for me, but a big part of my heart hoped we ended up in bed tonight.
A hostess led us to a booth, and I slid into my seat across from them. We ordered drinks and an appetizer before discussing the trial preparation meetings. Stephanie agreed the cross examination was by far the worst part. I also found out they’d be flying back to Boston in the morning and then returning for the trial itself.
“How’s cheerleading?” Stephanie asked while reaching for a mozzarella stick.
“Grueling,” I answered honestly. “We’ve started preparing for nationals. How about you?”
“Still on the reserve squad, but practices are brutal,” she replied. “You were always so good; you’ll kill it at nationals.”
“Thank you,” I smiled. “How are your classes?”
“Challenging,” Stephanie laughed lightly. “Way harder than high school.”
“That’s what you get for majoring in engineering,” I pointed out.
“Because your major is so easy?” Ian smiled.
“It’s easier than physics!” I told him. “How are you liking MIT?”
“It’s amazing,” he sighed happily. “No idiot jocks, just hardworking students who love their field of study.”
“I’m glad you’re happy,” I responded lightly.
The three of us talked about classes and professors and homework as our meals arrived. It was nice. Easy. No awkward silences or uncomfortable moments. Just three college students enjoying dinner. We played on our phones as well, and I texted with Lexi for a bit.
Kayla: How are you doing?
Lexi: A little overwhelmed. You?
Kayla: Same.
Lexi: I’m looking forward to a night with Steven. I need to be fucked until I forget my name.
Kayla: I feel you.
Lexi: Get some dick!;)
Kayla: You’re with the only dick I’m interested in right now. Well, maybe Ian.
Lexi: Steven will get past his issues, don’t worry.
Lexi: Hoping for a threesome for old times’ sake?
Kayla: Maybe.
Lexi: Get it, girl!
Kayla: I’ll do my best!
We finished our dinners and ordered small desserts. The chocolate lava cake was delicious, and it was paired with vanilla ice cream. Yum! I noticed how close Ian and Stephanie were, clearly in love as they sat side-by-side and whispered to each other occasionally.
“What time is your flight tomorrow?” I asked after we paid.
“7:20AM,” Ian answered.
“Do you have an early class tomorrow?” Stephanie questioned.
“Yeah, Intro to Criminal Justice at 7:50AM,” I replied. “It’s not as bad as early cheerleading. Maybe you two would like to come over?”
“We should probably get some rest,” Ian said carefully.
“Are you sure?” I leaned forward slightly. “I mean, I’m not seeing anyone. We could, you know, get the old group back together for a night?”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Kayla,” Stephanie winced.
“Oh. Okay,” I bit my lower lip.
“You understand, right?” Ian asked nervously.
“Yeah. Yes! Of course,” I nodded. “It was great seeing you.”
“You too.”
I was not happy as I made my way out to my car. Backing out, I bumped into the curb before putting the car in drive and leaving the restaurant. Seriously, why put a parking space with such little room to back out. I was pissed. I didn’t even bother putting on some Alison Tey on the drive home.
Stomping loudly up the stairs, I headed toward the bedrooms. The master bedroom door was closed and I could hear Lexi begging Daddy to cum on her face. I wanted to join them, but Daddy wasn’t willing to play with me. No guy seemed to want to fuck me. Except that dickweed, Drew Kensington.
I couldn’t be alone, and there was thankfully someone else I could spend the night with. Hazel was awake and watching television when I knocked on her door. She was more than happy to turn her show off and pull me into her arms. We talked for a while while I ran my hand along her slightly-swollen stomach.
We were slut-sisters, so the clothes started coming off. I got on top so we could enjoy tribbing for a little while. Then Hazel put me on my back and ate me out to a very nice orgasm. We snuggled together as we fell asleep. I felt better that I wasn’t alone, but I was definitely craving dick and a connection with a man.
~Scott Quinn~
Friday October 24, 2025
I had learned years ago that academic advising rarely involved academics. Students discussed how they were doing in their classes, and they certainly asked what classes they should take the next semester. However, they also often stopped by because they couldn’t stand their roommate. Or because they were homesick, their parents wanted them to change majors, or they broke up with someone an hour previously.
Glancing at the time, noticing it was 10:56AM. Four minutes until my appointment with Kayla Thomson. My fascination with the young woman had only grown in the past few weeks. Her first advising appointment had somehow ended with her crying in my office.
She had been through more at eighteen than most of my students would hopefully experience in their entire lives. Kayla was also incredibly busy; a challenging major, competing on a Division I cheerleading team, all while preparing to testify in a criminal trial. I wouldn’t have handled all that so well. She impressed me.
No grades were posted yet, so I had no idea of knowing how Kayla was doing in her other classes. What I did know was that she was great in my class. She had a good memory and was curious, wanting to know why the system worked the way it did. Her essay on my midterm had been an engaging read, allowing her to easily ace the exam.
I’d been teaching long enough to recognize the students who were interested in Criminal Justice because television made it seem exciting. Kayla definitely wasn’t one of them. She was smart and kind and genuine. I still thought about the night where I ended up at her house to pick up my daughter.
A knock sounded against my open door, causing me to look up from my computer. Kayla stood in the doorway with her backpack over one shoulder. Jean shorts, CSUA t-shirt, raven hair pulled back into a ponytail. Her green eyes almost seemed to be glowing, the intelligence in her gaze obvious.
“Good morning, Professor,” she gave me a friendly smile.
“Morning, Kayla,” I replied, gesturing to the seat in front of my desk. “Please take a seat.”
Kayla closed the door behind her and walked over to sit down, setting her backpack on the floor. I noticed she looked tired; her usual perfect posture replaced with slumped shoulders. Then she crossed her legs, and my eyes instinctively went to those flawless, lightly-tanned legs.
I chastised myself; I wasn’t some pervert professor and I refused to become one.
“How are you?” I asked, looking at her face.
“I’m good,” she said quickly. Too quickly.
I raised an eyebrow.
“I am, really,” Kayla bit her lower lip. “You don’t believe me.”
“I didn’t say anything,” I smiled.
“Your face did,” she replied with a pout.
“I have been told I have a difficult face,” I commented. “Mostly by my daughter.”
“Violet,” Kayla nodded, surprising me by remembering her name. “How is she doing?”
“She’s still a teenager, unfortunately,” I laughed lightly.
“Hey!” Kayla exclaimed. “We’re not all bad.”
“My apologies,” I smiled kindly. “She’s just at a very difficult stage. Me not living at home anymore doesn’t help.”
“Maybe you should spend some time with her?” she suggested. “Remind her that you still love her just as much.” Kayla then paused and looked at me nervously. “Sorry, it’s none of my business.”
“No, it’s a good idea. Thank you,” I inclined my head. “But I’m being selfish; we’re here to talk about you. So, let’s get started.”
Kayla looked down at her hands. “Actually...”
“Yes?”
“Before we start, I wanted to apologize,” she let out a breath.
“For?” I frowned.
“Last time,” Kayla sighed, looking at me nervously. “For getting emotional.”
“You’re apologizing because you cried?”
“When you say it like that, it sounds stupid,” she blushed slightly.
“I didn’t say it was stupid,” I replied immediately.
“Your face did,” Kayla gave me a small smile.
I laughed. “Apparently I need to work on that.”
“I just feel bad,” she shrugged. “You’re supposed to help me figure out college, but instead I dumped a bunch of personal stuff on you.”
“You didn’t dump anything on me,” I told her seriously, not wanting things to become bigger than they needed to be. “You were having a tough time, we talked, you got upset. Nothing inappropriate happened.” I shrugged. “So, there’s nothing to apologize for.”
Kayla gave me a tight, forced smile.
“Trust me, if a few tears is the worst that happens in an advising appointment this semester, I’ll be very grateful,” I gave her a teasing smile.
That got a laugh. “Do I want to know what’s worse?”
“No,” I laughed lightly. “Not at all.”
“That bad?”
“I’ve been doing this a long time, Kayla,” I told her.
Kayla laughed again, some of the tension leaving her shoulders. “Okay.”
“Excellent,” I nodded. “Now we can discuss what you’re actually here for.”
“My spectacular academic career?” she grinned hopefully.
I glanced at her. “Someone’s confident.”
“You gave me an A on the midterm,” Kayla reasoned.
“No, I didn’t,” I shook my head, causing her to look at me in confusion. “You gave yourself an A.”
We started discussing how she was doing in her other classes. Her grades were exactly what I’d expected after watching her in class. Plenty of students arrived at college accustomed to getting good grades without having to work. The first semester had a habit of catching them by surprise. Kayla hadn’t fallen into the trap.
“You’re doing very well,” I said approvingly.
“I know.”
I looked at her as she giggled.
“Sorry, that was arrogant,” Kayla blushed.
“Don’t apologize,” I shook my head. “You’re allowed to know you’re doing well. You should be proud.”
“It helps that I have the slu- ah, that I have my friends to study with,” she said, her face turning pink.
“Sounds like you were gonna say something else,” I observed.
“There’s a group of girls I’m really, really close with,” Kayla cleared her throat nervously. “We, um, have a group name. It’s not exactly appropriate to discuss with my professor.”
“Oh,” I nodded slowly, freezing when I realized what word she had stopped herself from saying. “Oh! Okay, um, anyway ... how much are you studying?”
She looked relived at the subject change. “A lot more than high school. I actually have to study now.”
“Welcome to college,” I smiled.
“In high school I could just pay attention in class, do the homework, then ace the test,” Kayla explained.
“And now?”
She made a face. “Now I have to actually spend time going over things.”
“Horrifying,” I smirked.
“I know!” she readily agreed.
I leaned back. “I’m actually very happy to hear this. A lot of students who did very well in high school have trouble adjusting to how much more work college is.”
“I can handle hard work,” Kayla stated proudly.
“I can tell,” I responded. “Juggling cheerleading and classwork takes a lot of dedication. I’m impressed.”
“Thank you,” she smiled.
“Are there any classes you’re worried about?”
“No,” she shook her head.
“Any trouble with your professors?”
“Other than crying in your office, no,” Kayla answered.
“I told you we’re fine,” I laughed lightly. “What about your major? Are you still happy with Criminal Justice?”
“Yes,” she said firmly. “Even more now.”
I was pleased with her answer. “Why is that?”
“It’s been interesting to learn how everything is connected,” Kayla explained. “If one part screws up, it affects everything. An innocent person could lose years of their life. Or a guilty person could go free.”
Anger surged within me as I thought about what was done to her.
“You’re starting to see the system,” I nodded, keeping my expression neutral.
“I’m still not sure what I want to do with this degree,” she told me.
“That’s fine,” I assured her. “This is your first semester, you’re still learning. You’ll take more classes, meet more people in the field. College is about exploring yourself and the world.”
“I did meet with a lawyer on Wednesday,” Kayla said.
“Oh?”
“The District Attorney’s Office,” she explained, her posture changing immediately.
“Testimony prep,” I nodded in understanding. “How’d it go?”
“Could have been better,” Kayla admitted. “The ADA is Jordan Wells, he said he knows you.”
“We’ve crossed paths a few times, yes,” I confirmed.
Jordan Wells was a good prosecutor. He was charismatic when he wanted to be and methodical when he needed to be. Jordan was dedicated to help victims get justice, and I knew he was hoping for a political run in the future. Kayla was in good hands with him.
“I liked him,” she said quietly. “Until he pretended to be the defense attorney.”
“A mock cross is never fun,” I winced in sympathy. “But it’s better to know what you’re heading into.”
“Yes,” Kayla agreed softly.
“Do you feel ready?”
“No,” she mumbled before shrugging. “Well, readier, I guess.”
“I’ll take it,” I smiled. “Make sure you let your professors know you will need to testify. The court will provide you all the documentation you need.”
“You’re giving me more homework?” she pouted.
“Sorry,” I laughed lightly before turning serious again. “If you need anything, please let me know. You’re shouldering more than anyone should ever have to.”
“Thank you, Professor,” Kayla said, a film of tears coating her eyes.
“You’re welcome,” I said. “And don’t wait until you’ve missed an exam or assignment to explain to your professors. Let them know ahead of time.”
“I’ll email them,” she promised.
“This weekend,” I instructed.
“Yes, Daddy.”
I stared at her.
“Oh, my God!” Kayla gasped, clapping her hands to her mouth as I laughed. “I did not mean to call you that!”
“Your dad seems like a nice guy, but I think I should be offended,” I told her.
“I’m sorry!”
“I thought we’d established you were going to stop apologizing?” I arched an eyebrow.
“That one deserved an apology,” Kayla argued. “Please forget that happened.”
“Absolutely not,” I stated.
“Professor Quinn!” she whined.
“I’m putting it in your advising notes,” I smirked.
“You wouldn’t dare,” Kayla lowered her hands.
I turned toward my monitor and pretended to type. “Student appears academically successful. Occasionally confused about familial relationships.”
Kayla laughed. “You’re an asshole.”
I looked at her again.
“Shit! Sorry!” she gasped.
“Really? Again?” I teased.
“Right, sorry!” Kayla winced. “Dammit! I swear I know other words.”
We both laughed for a few moments.