Drake slid in the door of his classroom as the bell rang. His professor looked up sharply, frowning.
“Late? Mr. Mann, you are never late.” His Georgia accent flavored the words.
“Had to drop my nephew at school. Sorry, Dr. Temple.”
“Considering it’s the first time in your entire college career, you are forgiven. Unlike many of your contemporaries, you know the meaning of the word punctuality.”
“Thank you.” He took his seat, sliding his heavy backpack to the floor.
The girls in the back of the room giggled and pointed at him as they whispered together. Dr. Temple wrote on the board, turning around to give them a baleful gaze.
“Ladies, and I use the word loosely, as no doubt do you. Have you something to share? Believe me, we all await with bated breath.”
“No, sir,” the boldest one replied. She blushed, casting her eyes down prettily.
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Viv Drewa - The Owl Lady 