Thread: English 2352 {DearestDarling & Dane Stalling}

Class had started at least five minutes ago. The hallways of the English department had cleared of students but for a few rushing stragglers, doors of the lecture halls had been closed by professors, eager to start their lessons, and Rosalie Clarke had only just entered the building. Her pace was unhurried despite her tardiness, heels that were more suited for a night on the town than a day of higher learning clicking smartly against the tile as she checked her schedule briefly on her phone, checking the room number before unceremoniously entering Professor Campbell's lecture hall. She could've sat in the back it would've been less of a disturbance to the lecture if he had, but Rose's favored spot had always been the front row. Immediately after sitting, she began to pull things from a backpack that was so worn, it looked as though she had beaten it. A legal pad, three different colored pens, a bottle of what looked to be water, but looks were often deceiving, a battered binder that held more sheafs of notes than it could bear, and other scholarly debris as she made herself quite at home. She shrugged out of her cardigan, the tank top beneath it thin and just revealing enough that boys in the row above her found their eyes drawn to her bare dcolletage. Professor Campbell silently handed her some of the typical paperwork one might receive on their first day of class-- one that she had missed-- and she looked it over briefly, a frown curving her plump pink lips, before tossing it dismissively onto her desk, her delicate hand rising into the air with a sense of urgency. Another student in the same row as Rosalie grimaced he'd had her in another class and had an idea of what might be coming. But the professor ignored her for an idiot in the back Jack Spalling, who wouldn't even be there if it weren't for his prowess on the football field, his asinine answers clear evidence of the many concussions he had suffered on the field. She wriggled her slim fingers, trying to catch her instructor's attention before the words she wanted to say escaped her lips. Finally, he called upon her-- or at least, he called upon a miss. Rosalie Clarke, it's a pleasure to meet you, Luke, she said with a smile, lowering her hand back onto the desk. I can't say that I've taken to observing roadkill as it decays, will that be offered as an extra-credit assignment? She was still smiling, but her crystal-blue eyes glittered as they pinned him to the spot with an odd intensity. A few students tittered nervously at her joke-- the way she had said the words was strange, irreverent. I have an issue with this assignment. Or, rather, what I can come to expect from this class. I think a much better short story could've been chosen to explore the theme of this assignment-- the fragility of Harry's ego was so obnoxious that I was really hoping that he would just get on with it and die. She shrugged, her shoulder bare and pure as milk. I would be happy to suggest some alternatives to what you have listed here-- it would be so refreshing to steer away from these tired old classics. She held up the syllabus and gestured to the reading list that had prompted her disappointment. It would be no trouble at all.