Special Tutoring (2/3)

The sun was barely up when Bambi clacked into the parking garage, the echo of her black boots announcing her arrival. She adjusted the hem of her tight pink miniskirt, ran a perfectly manicured hand through her silky blonde hair, and looked around.

“Ugh, where are they?” she muttered, pouting. She couldn’t even remember which building her first class was in. Or, for that matter, what the class was.

“Bambiiii!” three voices sang out in unison.

Amber, Kaylee, and Tiffany strolled toward her, each effortlessly chic in pastel tops and tiny skirts. Amber’s eyes widened dramatically. “Girl, where is your bag? And your books? And, like, your laptop or whatever?”

Bambi blinked, lips forming a slight pout. “Ughhh, I knew I forgot something.”

The girls burst into giggles. “You are such a ditz, Bambi,” Tiffany teased. “Good thing you’ve got us.”

They spent the morning moving from one lecture hall to another. Bambi barely followed anything being discussed. She caught herself twirling her hair and zoning out more often than not. Despite her sisters’ occasional nudges and whispers, she seemed to grasp even less than they did.

By mid-afternoon, they strolled into Modern Societal Structures 203. Bambi froze in the doorway, a little frown creasing her glossy lips.

“Wait…” she whispered. “Didn’t I, like... used to teach this class?”

Amber snorted so hard she almost dropped her caramel latte. “Girl. What?”

Kaylee leaned in, eyes wide. “Bambi, sweetie, an airheaded bimbo like you is, like, lucky you even got into college.”

Tiffany nodded sagely. “For real. The only thing you could teach is how to look cute and get lost.”

Bambi giggled nervously, even though a weird little ache bloomed behind her temples. Whatever. They were probably right.

The new instructor walked in—a tall, broad-shouldered man in a crisp shirt and tailored slacks. He adjusted his glasses and smiled warmly.

“Good afternoon, everyone. I’m Mr. Bennett. I’ll be taking over for Professor Marks for the rest of the term.”

Marks.

Bambi’s frown deepened. That name stirred something... important? She tilted her head, confused. But then Mr. Bennett bent over to grab some papers, and her thoughts completely evaporated.

Omigod, he’s so hot.

The weeks slipped by in a haze of giggles, makeup touch-ups, and, well... academic disaster. Bambi’s grades somehow managed to plummet even lower, despite the girls’ (half-hearted) study sessions.

Finally, one afternoon, after another failed quiz, Mr. Bennett cleared his throat as class ended. “Bambi? Can you stay a moment?”

She sashayed up to his desk, hips swaying, long blonde hair gleaming under the fluorescent lights.

“I’m concerned,” he began. “You’re currently failing this course.”

Bambi gasped, leaning forward. The neckline of her pink corset dipped low, giving the professor an unobstructed view of her soft cleavage. She bit her glossy lip, lowering her voice to a sultry whisper.

“Omigod, that’s, like, sooo bad,” she purred. “Maybe you could give me some... special tutoring.”

Her eyes drifted down to the front of his pants, a playful, hungry glimmer in her gaze. “I’m sure it’ll be, like, sooo hard, but, um... I think I can handle it,” she added with a breathy giggle.