Perilous Pauline - Chp 2

**********************************

This is a continuing college romance story. For chapter 1, check here:

https://shopping-feedback.today/fiction/perilous-pauline-fs1ws0s0k%3C/p%3E%3Cstyle data-emotion-css="14azzlx-P">.css-14azzlx-P{font-family:Droid Serif,Georgia,Times New Roman,Times,serif;font-size:1.1875rem;-webkit-letter-spacing:0.01em;-moz-letter-spacing:0.01em;-ms-letter-spacing:0.01em;letter-spacing:0.01em;line-height:1.6;color:#1A1A1A;margin-top:32px;}

***********************************

Veronesia Pauline MacKnight looked up as she exited the campus Science Building. She was grateful that the rain of an hour ago had cleared up. She didn’t need any help to be more wet than she already was. As she set off toward her dorm she thought back on the last few hours.

******************************

Rolling over on her lumpy dorm room bed, Ver peered sleepily at the clock. It was blinking 4:34 a.m. Well, that’s not right, she thought. Too much light streamed through the window blind. Grabbing her cell phone from the bedside table she checked. Crap! 8:45. Class is at nine. My freaking alarm didn’t go off due to one of those annoyingly frequent power outages overnight. I need to shout at Lori again. This is ridiculous. Sliding off the bed she thought for a moment about filing an official complaint with the dean’s office. Shrugging, she dismissed the thought. Later maybe.

Throwing off her thin blanket, Ver grabbed a tee shirt from the pile on the floor and pulled it over head. The short skirt she had worn to yesterday’s pep rally was the next handiest item of clothing. At least she slept in bra and panties so she wouldn’t have to worry about flashing Professor Phillips. No McMuffin allowed in class…, or is that MacMuffin? She chuckled. She had no desire for the middle aged lecturer to want to add sausage to her McMuffin.

Her roommate and best friend, Stormy Rayne…, what an imagination her parents had, she fleetingly thought for the thousandth time…, wasn’t in her own rumpled bed on the other side of the room. Guess Stormy spent the night at Tim’s again. Tim isn’t my cup of tea, too self absorbed, but I hope she had fun.

Stumbling to the small bathroom she shared with Stormy, Ver glanced in the mirror. Sleep hair, of course. Pulling her hairbrush through the tangled mahogany waves, she winced. A splash of mascara to cover the puffiness, and a touch of lipstick completed her ensemble.

Yanking on a pair of Nikes, Ver grabbed her class supplies from the cluttered desk and ran out the door. Halfway across the quad the roiling clouds opened up. A deluge dumped onto her, drenching her head to toe. Of course she had neglected to grab her umbrella before rushing to class .. History of Science .. What a drag. Damn! A white tee shirt over a thin black bra. Well, at least the college boys would enjoy her wet tee shirt posture. This thought brought a chagrined smile. Two years back, at home in Nebraska, she had entered a wet tee-shirt contest at a local bar on a drunken dare. She still had the second place trophy. The bucket of water they had dumped over her head had been freezing. Probably to stimulate perky nipples. Her mother had giggled and winked at her when she displayed her prize. Dad, on the other hand, hadn’t been so pleased. Screw that, I’m an adult, she thought. Dad was a good man, but a tad overprotective.

Glancing around at the bevy of scrambling college students rushing for shelter, she couldn’t help but grin. They looked like refugees from an acid rain. For a second, Ver turned her face to the cloud riddled sky. Opening her lips, she let rain runnel into her mouth.

Arriving at class, her wet hair straggling in an unkempt mass, tee shirt clinging to her breasts, Ver expected nothing but an uncomfortable, boring hour. Then she spotted him. The guy in the third row from the back with the nice profile who, judging from his lack of focus on the room, was no more excited to be here than she was.

The boy’s …, no, young man, she thought - she had left the boys back home in Nebraska…, shirt was taut over well muscled shoulders. The nape of his neck was just covered by creamy brown curls. From his profile she could see he appeared to be about her age.., maybe a year or so older…, and cute as Hell. What she could see of his calves in his taut jeans seemed to match his shoulders nicely. His jeans had a hole by the right knee that didn’t look “pre-distressed.” It didn’t look like he would be one of those self-obsessed frat boys in love with their own reflection. I.e., Johnnies, she thought.

John Thompson, her ex boyfriend, had become the measuring stick by which Ver looked at ‘prospects’. John and she had dated for the last two years of high school. She had lost, well, given actually, her virginity in the back of his Duster after prom. Ver didn’t necessarily regret it, but she admitted it hadn’t been great even later. John had been more interested in pleasing himself than her. Still, he had been a reasonably buff and good looking guy and it hadn’t been bad sex, just…, not great. Unfortunately, John also had been a typical guy… well, typical teenaged boy, anyway. His wandering eye had caused several spats between the two of them over the duration of their relationship. Ver had planned to break it off before leaving for college but John had actually had the temerity to beat her to the punch. His breaking up with her two weeks before her departure had, surprisingly, hurt some; however, looking back, she knew it had been a blessing. Since coming here, Ver had been on a few dates but nothing serious had developed.

Ver glanced around the classroom. Students shuffled to desks, most looked bored, tired, or hungover. There were a fair number of empty seats for the claiming, including on both sides of Mr. Curls, the cute guy fiddling with his phone. Returning a tentative wave from April, a friend of Stormy’s, Ver turned back. Well, nothing ventured, nothing gained. Noting most of her fellow students had settled and were awaiting the Professor, Ver stepped to the desk next to the cute guy and sat down. From the corner of her eye she noted that Mr. Curls had barely noted her entrance. She was vaguely insulted. It looked like he was reading something on-line. I hope he’s not a total bookworm, she thought. Well-read is good but always lost in a book not so much. She noted a goatee on his well shaped chin. Usually a goatee was not flattering, at least not most she had seen, but his seemed to compliment his angular face nicely.

Setting her stuff on the desk she opened her notebook. Crap! Guess rainstorms aren’t good for notebook paper. Thankfully, her book was covered with a plastic cover that had repelled most of the water. Damn! Now I need some dry paper. Scotching her left leg to one side of the chair, she leaned over to the engrossed young man next to her. “Excuse me,” she said.

**********************************************************

Smiling at her earlier thoughts of what a disaster today had started out to be, Ver smirked. Romy actually was as cute as she had thought. When he had turned those blue-tinged hazel eyes on her, after fumbling his phone like a dork, she had almost wanted to dive into them. His pupils had enlarged as he drank in the sight of her drenched femininity. Thank God, she thought… he’s not gay. The erection he had tried so cutely to hide as he had dug in his pocket for a napkin was also a good indicator. No problem if he was gay, but that would have been a true loss to womankind.

I can’t believe he knew The Perils of Pauline. And that Snidely Whiplash impersonation …, Ver actually laughed out loud causing a few curious glances. And he had a nice smile. Friendly. The small scar to the left of his mouth accented his lips. She wondered where it had come from. Her panties got slightly more damp as she envisioned licking that scar … Feeling a warmth suffuse her lower abdomen, Ver flushed. I can’t believe I actually told him he could do me for dinner, dancing, and a walk on the beach. Wow. still, I wonder if I could arrange to be tied up and left on the tracks sometime when he’s nearby? Or maybe just be tied up.

Humming unselfconsciously, Ver resumed her trek across campus. Despite all prior indications to the contrary, this may actually be an interesting semester. Ver could hardly wait to ask Stormy if she knew anything about one Romulus Tiberius Matthews.