Making the Grade (closed)

Starting college was supposed to be fun. New people, new freedom, and no parents were what all of her friends were getting to enjoy. Days in the California sun and nights at parties and bars were what college life was supposed to be.

But not for Nikki Bradford. No, despite her family’s money, her looks, and having her parents wrapped around her finger, she didn’t get to go to Stanford, or USC, or even Berkeley. Oh no. Instead, she got packed up and shipped off to a tiny little private college in New Hampshire, courtesy of her late grandmother, Judith.

That woman had been a nightmare in life, though Nikki barely remembered her, being a small child when the woman died. She had been born late in her father’s life, with him almost fifty when she finally came along. James had married her mother late, as well, after divorcing his first wife when she proved unable to have children. A cruel insistence that Judith had forced upon him. James paid her back by moving to California and finally siring a child - Nikki.

James and Heather, her parents, had enough money in their own right to afford Judith’s ire. But Nikki...well, she had a trust fund. But it had to be earned, not merely given. The stipulations her grandmother had set out required that Nikki return to New Hampshire and graduate from Silver Oak College of Arts and Humanities. Upon graduation, Nikki would have her own money to do whatever she wanted.

But what happened when all she wanted to do was party, right now, with friends that were nowhere near here? The college didn’t even have a decent sorority to join. And if she wanted parties, she would have to trek into Bournemouth, the nearest town, to find ones going on at the state school there. Thankfully she had her car on campus so she could escape as needed.

During a week of orientation nonsense, there were a few girls she met that might become friends, and some cute guys whose eyes she’d caught with her deep West Coast tan, platinum blonde hair, and playful smile. But she had to be careful as Silver Oak also had a very strict “morals code”: no drinking, no sex, no drugs. It was awful, but it was her only ticket to the money she was due. So she’d find a way to muddle through and party safely away from campus.

Of course, she hadn’t told anyone her last name yet, either. The last thing she needed was people asking her if she was part of that Bradford family, the one whose name graced the student union and the library and the chem lab and....What a nightmare.

Today was the first day of class, and the September air was already cool. She wore a pair of short pale pink shorts with some cute platform sneakers, showing off her long, toned legs, but had to wear it with a form-fitting school sweatshirt to keep from being too cold. The shirt, at least, still showed off her figure rather than looking like a large gray sack over her torso.

All of her classes this semester were gen ed requirements she’d need to graduate, and hopefully give her some direction on what she wanted to study. For now, she was happy to remain undecided. The first class, Geology 100, seemed like a breeze. But her next one - Introduction to Poetry - had a reputation, more for the professor than the coursework. Apparently Mr. Remick was something of a hard ass, and enjoyed browbeating freshman into realizing they didn’t know anything. All Nikki wanted to do was survive so she could, one day, finally get into that trust fund.

Nikki chatted with cute lacrosse player named Jimmy when their professor arrived. She found his height surprising, which she knew was stupid. Taller men aged just like everyone else. But between his height and bearing - former military if she had to guess - he definitely had "intimidating" down pat.

"They make guys like this teach freshmen just to scare us straight," Jimmy murmured in her direction, his hazel eyes sparkling as they met her warm brown ones. She laughed, quietly of course, not wanting to piss off Professor Hardcase. She shifted her legs slightly, and noticed Jimmy taking a long look at them. That only made her smile more.

"Bradford, Nicolette, you’re up first..."

Shit, she had only kind of been paying attention. His piercing blue eyes fixed on her as she rose from her seat. She might’ve imagined it, but she was pretty sure he eyed her legs as much as Jimmy had. She put on her brightest smile as she looked around the class.

"Hi, I'm Nikki," she began with a little wave. "No one calls me Nicolette except my grandma." That earned her a little laugh from her fellow students. "I'm from Sunnyvale, California, although my dad's family is from this area." She didn't want to come right out and say she was one of THOSE Bradfords, but nothing was wrong with implying it. "Still figuring out what I want to be when I grow up. But uh...maybe poetry will give me a clue, right?"

She got another laugh as she grinned and sat back down. When she looked over at Jimmy, she winked and he winked back. Seemed like a good start here.

Jimmy, it turned out, was a local guy, who's parents lived about twenty miles from the school. And, conveniently, they also planned to be gone for several months down to Florida. "So what I'm hearing you say," Nikki whispered to him as the professor droned on about his class, "Is that there is the potential for fun to actually be had while I'm here in college after all."

He flashed a dazzling grin at her, and she grinned back. After all, he was hot and seemed nice enough (and rich enough) to get her through some tough times here in the boring part of New England. And since it was off campus, there was little the school could do to stop them.

The room suddenly got silent, and twenty-four pairs of eyes turned their direction. Mr. Remick fixed the pair with a baleful eye, a look that tried to make her shrink. "Nicholette...James...something to share with the group?"

His voice telegraphed how angry he was to be interrupted, but Nikki felt her lips twitch almost into an unbidden smile. Instead she pressed them together to try and flatten out her expression. She hid her mouth behind her well-manicured hands as Jimmy sat up straight in his seat.

"Oh, no sir, Mr. Remick. Im very sorry for disrupting you." He sounded so genuinely apologetic that Nikki shook with silent laughter. No doubt he would ace his goal to become a lawyer with the sincerity he mustered.

The professor turned his cold blue eyes to her, and her laughing stopped. She swallowed and surprised herself by blushing faintly. "Sorry," she managed to get out, her mouth dry. She worked a piece of bubblegum out of her pocket and popped it into her suddenly dry mouth, trying to work some moisture back into it.

Reputation duly earned, she thought to herself as she leaned away from Jimmy and pretended to take notes on her laptop.

It didn't take long in class for Nikki to find Jimmy via IM. That made their discussion much easier, especially once the prof stopped yammering and had them read quietly. But instead of reading and taking notes out of the variety of poets provided in the syllabus links, she made sure the adorable lacrosse player had her cell number, her Snap info, and her non-school email. He promised to text her later so they could meet up for some quality time.

Once class was over, she smiled at him and started to chat with him when Professor Remick called, "Nicolette, James, could you both stay behind after class please?” They exchanged a look, and Nikki rolled her eyes where the teacher couldn't see before turning back around to the front of the classroom.

But he barely talked to Jimmy and dismissed him quickly. Her eyes followed him as he left, and when he glanced back he gave her a little shrug and disappeared. Nikki sighed as the teacher went on. "As for you young lady, you should think long and hard about who you associate with in college if you want to be a success here. I’m sure a pretty little thing like you is used to attention from teenage boys, and you’re probably already aware they only have one thing in their mind....”

Nikki couldn't help but raise a finely-waxed eyebrow at that. Teenage boys aren't the only ones who have one thing on their eyes, she grumbled, feeling the way the professor's eyes lingered over her legs. With Jimmy, she enjoyed it. With a man who was probably the same age as her dad, it was gross.

"Why don’t you tell me why you chose to study at Silver Oak Nicolette?”

She managed to pull up a strained smile. "As you probably guessed, it's a family tradition." His blue eyes narrowed, and she knew it wasn't quite good enough to get her out of here yet. "Look, I have to graduate from here if I want to see a quarter of the money my grandmother gave to this place. So I'm sorry if I was rude today," her voice sounded anything but apologetic, "and I'll do better. Okay?" She glanced towards the door. "I really need to run. I'm going to be late for my next class."

Thursday rolled around, and Nikki had one paltry stanza written for her poetry class. Finding the poet she wanted to emulate was easy enough. Though she had never heard of Elizabeth Bishop before browsing through her text book, her eyes fell upon "Miracle for Breakfast" and felt an immediate connection. Some, like her crusty old professor, would probably laugh at the poor little rich girl putting herself in the shoes of the narrator, but even she knew that poetry worked on many levels.

How great that miracle seemed to be working for her friends. Their pictures from their sunny California or Miami campuses left her green with envy. Her three closest friends were sharing a dorm room at USC and updated her with their parties and shenanigans. She put on a brave face and tried to make this boring old school seem more exciting than it was, but she knew she failed. She could see it in their sympathetic eyes.

Now, Nikki was no bubble-headed blonde - she had the intellectual acumen to do well SOC if she wanted. But no one had ever asked her to do any creative writing before, and certainly no poetry. She hated rhyme schemes, and trying to duplicate the word patterns used in "Miracle" felt impossible. She should've taken a clue from Jimmy, who had written a three line poem "inspired by William Carlos Williams" he said with a laugh before stealing a quick kiss from her from behind field house.

God, how she wished they could just lay out on the quad and make out like normal college kids! Even that briefest kiss could've gotten them up in front of the school's disciplinary board. When she had whined about it to him, he just grinned and whispered, "Guess you'll have to send me some pictures to keep me interested until my parents leave town then." She play-slapped his shoulder, but she'd already been planning on doing that anyway, once she got through the first few weeks of class.

Her phone buzzed to let her know she had ten minutes to get to her first one on one session with Professor Buzzkill. She quickly pulled her long hair up into a high ponytail, changed out of her pjs into some yoga pants and an oversized shirt, and some ankle boots. She threw her laptop and books into her backpack and hurried back over to the English building (thankfully named after someone other than a Bradford), knowing he'd just chew her out if she showed up late.

The office surprised Nikki by how tidy it was. Then again, she reminded herself, Professor Remick had been a military man. Underneath the tidiness, though, was the stink of old coffee and older books. She wished she'd taken the time to grab herself some coffee from the union before heading this way, but she hadn't wanted to be late.

She shifted on the uncomfortable wooden chair, which forced her to sit with her back perfectly straight. Her backpack sat at her feet, and she kept her laptop perched on her knees. Despite her initial dislike of the teacher, she still wanted (and needed) to do well in his class, and so she found herself a little nervous. That she covered up with her usual bright smile.

That didn't mean it wasn't difficult not to roll her eyes when he started in on her choice of friends. “You wouldn’t want to be caught sneaking around with any of your fellow students behind field house would you...? Especially not any you’ve already been warned about...." She clenched her teeth for a moment as blinding fury rose up in her. Either someone had seen her and Jimmy and ran snitching about it, or her professor was stalking her. Well, if it was the former, he had no proof. And if it was the latter, well, he knew that was about as chaste of a kiss as she might have ever gotten.

But she never let anything more than a twitch of her jaw show her irritation. Instead, she laughed a little and shook her head. "Jimmy and I weren't sneaking; we were walking. I appreciate your concern that I don't get myself into trouble, Mr. Remick, but I promise: I'm being good."

"Good". Now that was a laugh, to her at least. No one had ever accused her of that before. Spoiled, sure, or snobby, which she knew she could be. But "good" was for boring people, and Nikki never wanted to be boring. Being at this stupid school was boring enough. She'd never let this old geezer know that, though. She refused to let him rattle her.

When Mr. Remick dismissed her choice of poem to emulate, she frowned. The poem had been in the list he provided to the class. If he hadn't wanted them to read it, why put it there? Then again, there was so much about this man she found infuriating, like his obsession with her friendship with Jimmy. Who did he think he was - her dad? Her father certainly had never been so in her space when she was in high school. Frankly, he was just happy to let her do whatever she wanted.

Which, of course, she had. Whether it had been boys or her friends or parties or a new car, her parents never interfered. Nikki didn't know how to react to it, other than petulance, which she was trying to keep under control because something about Remick said he'd find a way to make her life miserable if she let him.

He destroyed her lone stanza, both in effort and in form, but the way in which he said it, as if she'd wasted his time. Then, to top it off, he leered at her. She tried to keep her disgust off her face, but she had never been so happy to be in a baggy shirt in her life. She would set herself a reminder to never wear anything tight or revealing in his class. E v e r.

She forced that fake polite smile back onto her face. "Of course I do, Professor Remick. I want to make a good impression on all of my teachers. But I've never written poetry before, or anything creative if I'm being honest, so it just doesn't come naturally to me." She tucked an errant strand of blonde hair behind her ear. "Maybe I should hire tutor to help me with it." There - that should show some initiative. And maybe get him off her back for a little bit.

Ugh. Everything about Professor Remick grossed Nikki out. She forced her face to stay as neutral as possible, keeping a wisp of a smile on her face that never touched her eyes. But every word, every glance, every breath this man made put her hair on end. She couldn't wait to get out of this office.

She realized too late the trap she'd left for herself when he offered himself up as her tutor. That he even thought to suggest her dorm room as a place to meet made her skin crawl. She took the slip with his number on it and an even more forced smile. "Thanks." He watched her until she saved the info in her phone, just above Tommy's number in her contacts list. Then she sent him a short text with her name. "There, now you should have my number, too."

His intense eyes bored into her, so she forced a wider smile. "And thank you for offering to tutor me. Hiring one isn't a problem, but at least this way, I know what I'm working on will be to the teacher's expectation, right?" She held her hand out, silently asking for her laptop back, wanting nothing more than to get the hell out of this office. It was suddenly too crowded and too hot.