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Message-ID: <61198asstr$1308309002@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: Uther Pendragon <nogardneprethu@gmail.com>
Subject: {ASSM} "College Collage - F" -- Uther -- MF pett
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Date: Fri, 17 Jun 2011 07:10:02 -0400
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
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If you are under the age of 18, or otherwise forbidden by law to read
electronically transmitted erotic material, please go do something else.

This material is copyright, 2011, Uther Pendragon. All rights reserved. I
specifically grant the right of downloading and keeping one electronic copy
for your personal reading so long as this notice is included. Reposting
requires previous permission.

If you have any comments or requests, please e-mail them to me at
nogardneprethu@gmail.com.

All persons here depicted, except public figures depicted as public figures
in the background, are figments of my imagination and any resemblance to
persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.


College Collage
by Uther Pendragon
nogardneprethu@gmail.com

MF pett


Marilyn Grant wanted a college education. After all, she wanted to spend the
rest of her life as a teacher. She also wanted the college experience. Her
mom, who had been a Zeta Gamma Tau at Dickinson, still kept those
connections. Marilyn wanted a similar experience; she wanted to come out of
it with similar connections.

So, in August of '75 when Marilyn arrived at her dorm on the U of I campus,
she didn't spend much time trying to make her room into a home. With any
luck, it wouldn't be home for long. She moved in, partially unpacked, and
went to registration. She saw that getting to registration early would be
advantageous in later years, but the courses she wanted to take now had so
many sections that the precaution was totally unnecessary. She signed up for
English 101 -- required prerequisite for most of what she wanted to take
later, American History -- required for any teaching credentials, Psychology
101 -- prerequisite for Developmental Psychology which -- in turn -- would
be prerequisite for many education courses, and Geology -- which would take
care of her natural-science distribution requirement. The schedule for rush
week and a map showing the campus and all Greek houses were the last things
she picked up.

She bought the books for the courses and some notebooks and brought them
back to her room. Then she set out to explore the campus. The Zeta Gamma Tau
house was one of the smaller ones on sorority row, but it looked neatly
maintained. Since nothing ever guaranteed getting into your choice of
sorority, she checked out the others, as well. On the way back to her
temporary dorm, she located the buildings in which she'd have class. By
dinner time, she was tired out.

Classes went decently. Several of the professors started right out, which is
something high-school teachers hadn't done on the first day of class, but
Marilyn had been warned about that. One side of college was going okay --
now for the other.

Before rush began, however, she got a call in the dorm.

"Marilyn Grant speaking."

"Marilyn, this is Andy Trainor. I used to be in your MYF in Evanston.
<i>Nashville</i> is playing in the Danielson theater this week. I wondered
if you'd want to go with me?"

"Why Andy! Of course I remember you. I'd be pleased." They settled on
Wednesday evening. He picked her up at seven. The movie was fine, the entire
evening was fine. He treated her to a sundae afterwards, and walked her
home. He kissed her at the door to her dorm.

"Oh, Marilyn," he said as though the kiss had been special. He straightened
up and watched her until she'd gone through the door.

He took her to another movie. On their way back, she warned him that rush
was about to start.

The first evening of rush, everyone who wanted to join the sorority system
was ushered into each of the houses in clumps. She was polite in the other
houses, and -- actually -- interested in them for back-ups. For Zeta Gamma
Tau, she put out her best effort.

"Hi. I'm Sarah Jane."

"I'm Marilyn. Nice house you have here."

"I'm glad you like it. Zeta is one of the oldest sororities in the nation."

"I know. My mother was a Zeta in Pennsylvania."

"That's just great. Do you know what you're planning to major in?"

"English. I'd like to teach it in high school."

"That sounds wonderful. One of my sisters is an education major. You should
talk to Pamela."

Pamela told her what to expect in the education department, although she was
in primary education. Marilyn told her about her mother, as well.

By the end of the evening, the pattern was so predictable that she started
varying her description of her plans between English and teaching to get, at
least, a variation in the girls she talked to next.

"And what does your father do?" One Kappa Kappa Gamma active asked her.

"He works for the Illinois Central Railroad."

"That must keep him moving around." Hardly. What did the girl think he was,
a brakeman?

"Not particularly. I'll tell you a secret. These days, when railroad
executives <b>do</b> travel on business, they usually travel by airplane."
She didn't go back to that house.

She went back to three sororities the next night, Zeta, Phi Mu, and Alpha
Delta Pi. After all, she shouldn't pin all her hopes on Zeta. The other two
had larger houses and many more members.

For the last night, when the sororities and the rushees had narrowed down
their choices, she still visited the three houses. Zeta, however, seemed
really interested in her. She found that she had bids from all three, but
her choice of Zeta was obvious.

She moved into Zeta as a pledge on the weekend. There were 12 girls in her
pledge class. There were 40 actives, and all but Georgiana and Sharon lived
in the house. She set about putting all their names with their faces.
Actually, there was a lot to learn. Since the history of the founding was
public information, Mom had already taught her that. This gave her a step up
on the other pledges. Still, since the actives quizzed all the pledges over
and over until they <b>all</b> got it right, knowing things first was no
great advantage. She took to helping some of the slower-to-learn pledges on
the history in self defense. The professors would never dare demand 100%
recall, but these details were important.

The pledge period wasn't all work, though. The entire house was guest at a
dance at a fraternity. Her first dance was with Joe, one of the Gamma
pledges. This had been arranged beforehand, possibly on consideration of
height. Joe was the shortest pledge in his fraternity, although he still had
at least six inches on her 4' 11". When they'd seen her, however, the Gamma
upperclassmen were happy enough to dance with her. She had to refuse three
invitations in order to sit out two of the dances to rest her legs. They
served punch, and it tasted strong. She left her glass on the table
half-full and didn't go for another.

Joe walked her home, no great distance. He obviously knew the territory,
because he stopped her in a small patch of trees three houses down from
Zeta. Fine, she was happy to give good-night kisses, even if walking her
home was no great service. When Joe kissed her, though, his hand grasped her
tit. It wasn't brushing, or even holding the way Colin sometimes had. He
grabbed it and squeezed. She shook herself free and walked towards the
house. After a second, Joe caught up with her.

"Look," he said.

"Fine. Look all you want. Don't feel."

"But I only..."

"Walk me back." And he did, giving her more kiss than she thought he
deserved on the porch. Still angry, she kept her mouth closed. That got part
of her face licked as he tried to force his tongue in. She went to
Marguerite, who was in charge of all pledge activities.

"Look, the Gamma pledge who walked me home groped me."

"What did you expect? Is that the first time a boy has touched you?"

"It's the first time one has grabbed my tit on a first date." Had it even
been a date?

"Well, you're in college now." That was hardly comforting to hear. Sure, the
actives were supposed to push the pledges. She accepted that. But she could
have used a little sympathy, if not a complaint to somebody at Gamma house.

Now, she thought after she went back to her room, it would have been
different if Andy had held her tit -- not that he had, he'd been a perfect
gentleman, maybe a trifle old-fashioned -- but just as an example. Andy was
a friend whom she knew -- a guy who had selected her and invited her. Joe
hadn't known who she was. He'd clearly thought he was entitled to a feel of
any girl he walked back to the house.

Well, she had padded bras -- something she considered an occasional
necessity for an A-cup. The next time she went to a frat house, she'd wear a
padded bra. If they thought they'd cop a feel, let them feel a little foam.

The party at Delta house went about the same way. Her escort stopped at the
same patch of trees. He was much more gentle, though. And for that
gentleness, and to compensate for not getting anything with his touch, she
opened her mouth on the porch. When their house held a party, she was
assigned to an Alpha pledge. She danced the first and last dances with him
and was expected to see him off from the porch. In the light, he kissed her
but didn't grope her.

In the midst of this social non-whirl, she got a call from Andy.

"How did you find my new number?"

"I haff my sorrssess." He had a horrible fake-German accent. "Notably, I
have the number of the campus student register. The question is getting
repetitive, and I hope I'm not boring you, but would you like to go to a
movie?"

"I don't know what pledges are allowed. Let me check." Which was a little
weird. If Mom had tried to stop her from going to a movie with a boy the
year before, she would have thrown a tantrum that would raise the dead.

Marguerite, the pledge chair, said that it was all right for a pledge to
date, but Wednesday was a problem. She and Andy agreed on Tuesday.
Marguerite knocked on her door a few minutes after she'd hung up the phone.

"What are you going to wear?" She hadn't decided yet, but it was an easy
decision.

"Jeans and this top." She pulled the top out of her closet.

"No. Zates don't wear jeans on a date." (The three Greek letters were often
condensed into one syllable in speaking of members.) She shrugged and
brought out a dress.

"It's only a movie, after all, and he'll wear khakis or jeans." For some
reason, Andy had worn khakis on their two previous dates. The dress got
Marguerite's approval.

They went to another movie theater, Oak Street. She realized that Andy had
chosen it because it was closer to the Zeta house. He sat with his arm
across the back of her seat and his hand on her shoulder. After the last
couple of dances, having her <b>shoulder</b> held felt a little strange, but
quite pleasant. On the way back, they approached the clump of trees where
she had engaged in those struggles. She decided that a third date with a
friend -- a boy who had supported her when she needed support for MYF
activities -- justified a long period of kissing and making out so long as
he was gentle -- nothing justified squeezing -- and stayed above the waist.
The decision was totally wasted. Andy continued on past the trees as if he
hadn't seen them. He walked her nearly to the door.

"Marilyn," he said when she was on the porch. She turned to see him standing
two steps lower. That brought their faces to the same level. He kissed her,
this time holding both shoulders. Somehow, her mouth opened, and their
tongues met. It felt better than it had even with Colin. This went on for
the longest time, but she wasn't about to end it.

"Oh, Marilyn," he said when he broke the kiss. He watched her in the door,
and she turned to see him adjust his pants before he walked back. Well, it
was nice to know that he'd responded to her, too.

She went back to her room, and the girls asked about her date. She described
the movie, but that wasn't what they wanted to know.

"He's a guy I used to know in Evanston -- a really nice guy."

"What fraternity?" asked Peggy.

"I really don't know. I don't even know whether he pledged at all." And that
was sailing close to the edge of truth. Andy listened to what she could tell
him of her experience; details, of course, were secret. If he'd pledged he
would have known much of it and shared what he could from his own
experience. Instead, all that he said about himself -- and that was less
than boys usually talked about themselves -- was on his courses.

"Weird," said Grace, as if she couldn't imagine any boy not joining a
fraternity. But there were all those huge dorms. They had to hold some guys.
She got ready for bed. The room held two bunks, one of them a triple-decker.
Since only four of them lived there, the top level of the triple decker --
with springs but no mattress -- was one more storage space. Marilyn's taking
the middle level of that bunk had pleased her roommates. She didn't need
much space to sleep, after all.

All the Zates were officially her sisters. Peggy, Grace, and Lisa were
sisters in a special sense. They all talked about what they had expected of
sorority life, what the surprises were, and what they hoped would end after
Hell Week.

Andy kept his hand on her shoulder during the next movie, afterwards she
guided him into the clump of trees while they were walking home.

"Oh, Marilyn," he said before he kissed her. That kiss was long and wet.
When he straightened up, he lifted her!

"Andy!" He kissed her, and she wrapped her arms around his neck so she
wouldn't fall. The kiss was lovely, the most exciting one she had ever had.
When it ended, she found that her legs were wrapped around his waist and his
hands were supporting her seat. They had another kiss almost as long as the
previous one, but the position was starting to be hard to maintain.

"Maybe you better put me down now." So he let her slip down slowly, kissing
the top of her head while he did. He turned from her briefly to tug at his
pants. Then they walked back to the house hand in hand. Again, he stood on a
lower step to kiss her good night. This kiss was short and almost formal.

She agreed to another movie, but the entire pledge class was sent on a
scavenger hunt that Tuesday night. Iris told her the next morning that Andy
had come by and been told where she was. "He said he understood."

That evening, he called.

"I'm sorry," she told him. "I couldn't." It was hell to tell a boy that you
had something more important to do than go on a date with him. But Zeta
<b>was</b> important to her.

"I'm sorry, too, but I understand. Your sister explained that they sprang
the scavenger hunt on you. She said it would be cheating if I helped." Well,
it certainly would be. If they wanted boys to help, they'd tell them to get
the boys. On the other hand, they were capable of thinking up anything.

"Look, I wouldn't have been able to call you yesterday. They hardly gave us
time to change our clothes. But, if I want to call you, what's your number?"
He gave it, and the name of the dorm. "You didn't pledge?" If he had applied
and been turned down, that was the wrong question. But, somehow, she
couldn't imagine anyone turning Andy down.

"That's your thing. You didn't take Calculus, either." Which was, she
figured he was saying, his thing. "Anyway, subject to some other surprise,
could you come to a movie next Tuesday?" She could and did.

They walked home from that movie hand in hand. It seemed natural, somehow.
When they got to the bunch of trees, he stopped and looked at her. She could
barely see in the dim light that his eyebrows were raised. She turned into
the trees, and he followed.

He lifted her again, and she wrapped her arms and legs around him. He held
her up by her seat while they shared the sweetest kiss. When his tongue
retreated from her mouth, hers chased it. When she'd explored his mouth, she
brought her head back. They stared into each other's eyes for minutes in the
dark. Then he set her down.

Before she could be disappointed, he turned her around. He wasn't forceful,
but his pressure on her shoulders was enough to tell her what he wanted her
to do. He held her shoulders while kissing the top of her head. Then, quite
slowly, his hands stroked down her front. He stopped when he was cupping her
tits.

"Oh, Marilyn." She didn't say anything, but she moved back against him. She
could feel his hardness pressing into her back. They remained like that for
a while. Then he moved back, bent over, and kissed the top of her head and
the top of each ear. She shivered. He turned her and lifted her for another
kiss. They walked back to the house very slowly.

Even there, his last kiss was wet and seemed to go on and on. Finally, she
heard another couple came down the walk. Andy stepped back and down one more
stair. She looked and saw Esmere, an active, with a boy she didn't know.
Andy moved aside and watched as she went in the house. When Esmere followed,
the boy came in with her.

Esmere and the boy were cuddling in a large -- although meant for one
occupant -- armchair in the "front parlor" before she went upstairs to her
room.

Andy's next invitation was to an all-university dance. She happily accepted.
The actives were unlikely to schedule anything to conflict with a dance.
They would be too busy getting ready for it. Indeed, she found that they
expected the pledges to attend.

"And," Marguerite said, "we'll arrange dates for the pledges with Pi Kappa
Phi guys."

"You don't need to arrange a date for me," she told Marguerite after the
meeting. "I'd already accepted an invitation before I heard your
announcement." That seemed an obvious comment -- she hadn't had time to get
an invitation between the announcement and the discussion. On the other
hand, she didn't want Marguerite thinking she's acted to thwart her.

"But you can't. I've already heard from two Pi actives who want to be your
date."

"Well, I can't go with both, now can I? So one of them is certain to be
disappointed, anyway. But I've accepted an invitation. Does a Zate renege on
an acceptance because she has a better offer?" The answer to that was clear.
Actual Zates might; the ideal Zeta Gamma Tau woman would never do anything
so chintzy.

"What fraternity does he belong to?"

"He didn't pledge any."

When Andy showed up, they were the only couple walking to the dance from the
house. Fraternity actives drove cars, sometimes loaded with three couples,
to the dance. She danced the first two dances with Andy. Then she alternated
dances with him and with others, who seemed to be half actives and half
pledges. The only request she turned down flat was from Joe, the guy who had
mauled her tit. She danced the last dance with Andy, and then they walked
slowly back.

They paused in the trees for a long time while a parade of cars drove by
outside. Finally, he walked her home. Even on the sidewalk she could hear
voices of both sexes coming from the house.

"Would you like to come in?" After all, this was her home. The other women
were her sisters, not her parents.

"I'd be delighted." He was probably less delighted when he saw the front
parlor. She certainly was. Couples were making out all over the furniture.
She didn't see anything she hadn't experienced, and only a few couples were
doing more than the two of them had just done. But they'd sought a little
privacy. He would be able to see at least three tits just by looking, and
she was sure that he was looking. Luckily, all the seats seemed taken. She
took his hand again and led him to the stairs.

"Let's say good night here," she said. He watched her climb up one stair.
This time, between the height of the stairs and her heels, her head was even
with his. That kiss was long and passionate. He gripped the back of her neck
and held her while his tongue explored her mouth. She held herself up by his
shoulder and the banister while enjoying all the sensations from the kiss.

"Antisocial," said a voice from behind him. She looked up to see Kathleen, a
senior. They both moved aside to give her more room, though the stairs were
wide enough without that.

"Goodbye," he said. He walked out the door. She went up to her room. She was
asleep before any of her roommates came up.

"You know, Marilyn," Kathleen said at breakfast, "men aren't allowed above
the first floor."

"Well, he wasn't. He didn't set one foot on the steps. We just like it
better if I'm standing a little higher than he is."

"What happened?" asked Willa.

"Johnny was too drunk for fun. I sent him home early. I caught Marilyn
saying good night to her date on the stairs up to the second floor."

"Well, <b>I</b> was on the stairs. <b>He</b> wasn't. And, you'll have to
admit, you didn't catch us about to sneak up. We'd been standing there for a
while."

"Yeah. And why didn't you come inside?"

"Well, in the first place there didn't seem to be any space that wasn't
being used. In the second place, when I want my date to be ogling a tit,
I'll let him ogle mine. And we aren't at that stage, yet."

"A Zate says 'breast,'" admonished Caitlin. Apparently, talking about tits
was beneath the sisterhood; showing them wasn't.

Marguerite took her aside later and complained about her accepting the date.
She agreed that throughout her pledge period, she'd let the pledge chair
manage who took her to dances. After all, part of the plan was to set them
up with a different fraternity for every event so they would meet the
greatest number of boys, and their pledge class was small enough that
Marguerite's job finding frats which wanted that exchange was already
difficult. One fewer girl available would make her job all the harder.

She explained that to Andy on their next date. He said he understood.

"You always say that. Do you really understand everything?"

"Look, I want you. You decide how much of you can I have? I decide whether I
want that much. Well, I do. I might want more, but more isn't on offer.
Wouldn't it be childish to refuse what is available?" That seemed to treat
her as a commodity, but -- if it did -- it was a commodity which she
controlled completely. This was a nice contrast with Joe who groped because
it was within reach -- even with the actives who demanded all of her time
and all of her behavior.

"Same guy?" Crystal asked when she got back from that date.

"Same as took me to the dance? Sure. It was just a movie. If he hadn't taken
me there, who would have? It didn't interfere with anything else."

"Well if pledges have time for their own dates, we probably aren't working
you hard enough." She didn't think up a task right then, though, and Marilyn
figured she'd forget it. She missed one more date because of another pledge
task, but she and Andy got together several more times. Andy didn't seem to
expect her to grant him the access he'd seen in the front parlor. Then, she
warned him that Hell Week was coming up. She wouldn't have any time for him.
(In the event, she didn't have any time for sleep, either -- or, at least,
not nearly enough time.)

She got her badge. She was an active.

She got her Big Sister, Natalie, and her Grand Big Sister, Caitlin. What she
didn't get was a call from Andy.

But finals were coming up fast, and she had papers due that she hadn't
thought about. She kept busy. When the finals were over, there was one more
house celebration. Then she went back to Evanston. She didn't see Andy
there, either. Now that she had time to breathe, she was beginning to miss
the guy. Finally, just before going back to school, she saw him after
service in church.

"Hi. Long time no see." Stupid comment! It sounded like she had missed him.

"Yeah. You were busy, and then I was studying like mad, and then, I'll
admit, I tied one on. Only way I can stop thinking after exams are over. Did
you make it through?"

"Yeah." She showed him the badge. "I'm a real Zate now."

"Congratulations.... Dad," he turned to a man who showed a close physical
resemblance to him. "This is Marilyn, the prettiest girl on the U of I
campus. Marilyn, this is my father."

"Jim Trainor."

"Marilyn Grant. Didn't you teach him not to lie in church?" She wasn't even
the prettiest freshman in her house.

"Well, I'm sure he hasn't taken a full survey. What is the number of your
student body, anyhow? But an opinion based on an inadequate sample doesn't
qualify as a lie." Height wasn't the only thing they had in common.

Mom called for her to come to the car, and she had to leave with all sorts
of questions unanswered. She didn't want to tick Dad off, though. She hadn't
failed any courses, but a B in English and C s in the rest weren't what he
had expected.

"Well," Mom had said. "Pledge period is always rough. I'm sure she'll do
better next semester."

"She'd better. A summer taking some courses in junior college might teach
her how to study again."

"And how well did you do during pledge period in your day?" Dad hadn't
answered that.

When she got back to campus, her first thoughts were registration and books.
She'd had all the Geology she'd ever want, and she registered for Chorus --
it didn't put her in the official University chorus, thank God, but it was a
class in singing. That took care of her fine-arts distribution. It also had
the reputation of being an easy class, two-hour instruction periods, but no
homework. For Phys-Ed, she signed up for swimming. The rest of the courses
were the continuations of the previous semester's.

Shortly after classes resumed, Andy called again. He invited her to another
movie. The walk there, though, was freezing. The walk back was even colder.

"No?" Andy asked when they passed the trees.

"I'm afraid not." He didn't argue, and when they got to the house, she
didn't stop on the porch. "Come in," she said. The front parlor, if not
empty, held only three couples. She took his coat, and they made a fourth.

The kisses were sweet, but Andy kept his hands on her shoulders. Then, he
picked her up and placed her on his lap. The kisses were not only more
comfortable, with him holding the back of her neck they were hotter too.
Finally, he picked her up again and turned her around. He hugged her so that
his arm was touching the underside of her tits. He kissed the back and sides
of her neck and the backs of her ears. She felt him hard against her seat
and rolled her hips to rub him there.

"Please don't," he whispered. She stopped, grinning at the idea of making
him come. But it would embarrass him, and wouldn't impress her sisters with
him. She scooted a little forward on his thigh, and he went back to kissing
her neck and ears. She was feeling sweaty before he left. She hoped he
wasn't as wet for his cold walk back.

Pamela got up at the next chapter meeting.

"We have no more pledges, now. We're all sisters. We're going to hold a
party to celebrate the new sisters. Everybody is going to invite their own
date." (Marilyn, as an English major, winced at that construction. She
rejoiced, though, in the possibility that it opened up for her.) "Freshmen,
the rest of us know who we're going to invite. If you don't have somebody in
mind, you might talk to your big sister. If that doesn't work, speak to me.
There are a lot of guys interested in you from the pledge period. Don't talk
to Marguerite. She's taking a well-earned rest. The responsibility for the
parties rests entirely on the Social Chair." Pamela, as everyone knew, was
the social chair.

When Andy called her up to invite her to a movie Tuesday, she countered.

"I have an alternative. We're having a party-dance Friday night. Instead of
your inviting me, why don't I invite you?"

"Jeans, khakis, or suit? Let me back up. Thank you very much. I accept with
gratitude. Should I wear jeans, khakis, or a suit?"

"Definitely a suit event. 7:30." And so it was settled. The sisters removed
all the paraphernalia from the chapter-meeting room for the event. Then a
work crew was brought in to move the furniture from that room, the front
parlor, and the TV room into the basement. Even the dining-room chairs, but
only some of the tables, were moved. As a special concession, a velvet rope
was wound between the bannisters near the top of the front stairs. Men would
be allowed to sit on the stairs with their dates that far up.

All the members, especially the new actives dressed to the nines. A
scattering of dates didn't wear ties, and more than half the rest wore
sports coats and slacks. Andy in his suit looked like he was honoring the
event. There was plenty of punch and cases of beer -- Zates were too
ladylike to provide a keg -- in the dining room. There were also all sorts
of sweets and snacks.

With a hundred people there and maybe a dozen chairs left on the floor,
there was nothing to do but dance. And dance, they did. Andy was a good
dancer, never -- despite his height -- taking too large a step for her to
follow. She introduced him to her roommates, and he invited each of them for
one dance. She danced one of those with another man. Two she sat out on the
stairs. Sisters, none of them freshmen, took turns serving the punch. It was
strong, and she was careful.

Halfway through the evening, Deborah, the president, tapped her on the
shoulder while she and Andy were about to start a dance.

"Can we see the two of you in the kitchen?" They followed her past the
people filling up on the desserts and guzzling the punch and beer in the
dining room. Deborah closed the kitchen door. Three other seniors with
Natalie and Caitlin were sitting around the kitchen table. When Deborah took
her seat, there was only one more chair. Andy pulled it out and held it for
her.

"So," Deborah said to Andy, "Marilyn seems to have chosen you. Who are you?"

"I'm Andy Trainor. I'm a freshman like Marilyn. I knew her last year in
Evanston, and I was impressed then. She, however, was unavailable. I asked
this fall, and she agreed to come on a date with me. We've been on several
dates since." This was greeted with silence.

"Let's see," he continued. "I'll be an electrical-engineering major -- not
yet; you know the rules -- but I will be."

"How did you do last semester?" asked Amy. She was the academic chair, but
it seemed a strange question even so.

"Not all that well." Which could mean anything. This group might think he
was on academic probation.

"Andy," she said, "be precise."

"Well... I got a C in Phys-Ed, an A in Physics, and B s in English, American
History, and <b>Calculus</b>. Well..." he sounded like he was making an
excuse. "Well, I took AP Calc in high school. It was enough to get me into
second-year Calc, but it wasn't quite enough to prepare me for that course.
I started badly, but I worked hard and got my grades up in the end."

"How badly?" she asked again. He made it sound so much worse than it had
been.

"I got a C on my first test -- a low C."

"You have to understand," she told the audience, "it might have been the
first C he'd ever received on a math test."

"I blew a couple of pop quizzes in high school. But it was damn-well the
first B I'd ever gotten as a final grade in math."

"I remember," said Phyllis, "the first B I ever got in a math course."

"You do?" asked Deborah. Phyllis was notoriously fuzzy-headed, and math
wasn't her strong suit.

"It was also my last."

"Well," said Andy, "I want to make that my last, too." He wasn't following
the conversation, at least not the subtext.

"Well," Deborah changed the subject. "You want better grades. Are you on a
scholarship?"

"Hah! Not unless you count my dad, like most of us."

"And is he raising a ruckus? My dad would be thrilled with three B s and an
A, but I've known parents to go off every deep end there is."

"Nah! He did bribe me, though. If I pass phys-ed and get more A s than B s
for the <b>year</b> in academic subjects, he'll give me a car. He'll count
by credit hours, and -- since Physics is a lab course -- it has four credit
hours. But that means I'll have to get an A in either English or History."

"What does your father do, anyway?" asked Phyllis.

"He's a VP -- one of the vice presidents -- of a small Chicago bank."

"And what makes a bank small?"

"It's not a small bank. It's a small <B>Chicago</b> bank. Put it down in
Champaign, and Albany might be the largest bank in town. It's just that
Chicago has a couple of humongous banks that play on the national level.
Albany isn't one of them. It's the bank for Albany Park, a Chicago
neighborhood, just like any small town has its own bank."

"Did you try to enter the Greek system," Deborah asked.

"Nope. And, as I've said, I had to put some serious time into studying this
last semester. If I had pledged, I wouldn't have had the time. Marilyn
showed me that."

"But that wasn't your reason?"

"No. Really, I don't want to ruffle any feathers, especially Marilyn's, and
I know how important this is to her. Still, I don't go around asking, 'what
made you decide not to major in electrical engineering?' From your
perspective, sororities are the natural choice -- and, I suppose,
fraternities for guys. For loads of us, we didn't choose not to pledge a
fraternity any more than you decided not to major in electrical engineering.


"As I've said, I came to school to learn electrical engineering. They say I
have to take various distribution courses, too. So be it. I'm not fighting.
They don't say I have to join a fraternity, too. They don't say I have to
join the tiddley-wink team, either. So I don't."

"Well!"

"Look, as I said, I don't ask why you didn't major in electrical
engineering. People go to school for various purposes. It's just that I have
my purposes, which are different from yours. I'm here to learn something
particular. After all, going to college to learn something isn't an idea
that would shock most of the people at this university." She wasn't sure of
that last statement, but maybe she'd spent too much of the last semester
partying and going on scavenger hunts.

"You seem to want to participate in student life when it comes to dating
Marilyn," Natalie said.

"Well, I want to date Marilyn. Sure, I was glad to come to your dance with
her, but I was glad to go to the movies with her, too. I don't claim to be
some studying machine. I take part in school life. I took part in
high-school life, too. It's just that I came to the university to learn
electrical engineering. I'm here, and I live here, and I enjoy what's going
on. When I was in Evanston, I took part in Evanston life, most -- because I
was in high school -- high-school life, but not all. It's just, if you'll
pardon me, that what attracts me about Greek life is one particular Greek --
one particular Zeta Gamma Tau." Which was nice to hear.

"That's nice," said Deborah. "We'll send your particular Zate out to you in
a minute." Andy, who could take a hint when it slammed him over the head
like that, thanked them and left.

"Well," Deborah asked her when the door had closed, "is all that true?"

"All what?" she answered. "A hell of a lot was opinion, but I believe it is
his opinion."

"What he said about himself. Do you know his father's name?"

"As a matter of fact, I do. It's Jim. Look, Andy was in my MYF. A lot has
changed, but so have we all. Nothing he told you is different from what I
gathered last year -- more thorough, maybe."

"He is a geek."

"In some ways. We don't talk about science, but don't get him off on the
Civil War. He is equally geekish about that."

"The Civil War?" Caitlin was a History major.

"There were two wars. East of the Alleghenies, the Union tried to take
Richmond, didn't, changed generals, and tried again -- over and over and
over. West of the Alleghenies, the Union conquered Confederate lands. When
they took Vicksburg it was all over but the mopping up. The teachers spend
most of their time talking about the eastern piddling around, and not enough
talking about the western campaigns which won the war.

"Look, it's not my favorite conversation of all time, but I'll take a
description of battles which meant something -- battles starring somebody
named Grant, after all -- to a guy's play-by-play description of his last
intramural football game -- featuring how much ass he kicked."

"I'm not saying he's right," responded Caitlin. "I will say he has a point.
I'd love to hear him make that argument."

"Be my guest. Just let me be somewhere else."

"What do you see in him, anyway?" Deborah was back on the main question.

"He's the nicest guy you'll ever meet. Sometimes you get tired of guys who
treat you like a slab of meat. One of the pledges who walked me home
squeezed my tit so hard he caused a bruise -- walked me home from an event
his frat hosted, but he had nothing else to do with. The first time Andy
walked me home from a date, he kissed me on the porch while keeping his
hands to himself. A date he'd paid for and one he'd specifically asked
<b>me</b> to."

"Is he queer?"

"No. As I said, that was the first date. He gets hard ons when we make out,
but he doesn't grab my hand to show me what he's got."

"Is his father really a banker?"

"I'll believe him. I've spoken to the man once. I'd have taken him for a
lawyer, myself -- smooth talker."

"But not a garbage man?" No. How could she explain this?

"Heavens, no! Look, our church is full of professors. They're nice guys and
all, and they don't wear jeans and sweatshirt to service, but -- when
they've put on dress pants, a dress shirt, a tie, and a sports coat -- they
don't ask whether those match. Well, Andy's dad wore a coordinated outfit.
The shirt complimented the suit, and the tie complimented the shirt."

"Thanks." which was her dismissal. The downstairs bathrooms had been labeled
mens' rooms for the occasion. She took the opportunity to go up the back
stairs and visit a bathroom. She went up to her room on the third floor, got
her glass, and drank a glass of water in the bathroom on that floor. She'd
been standing for hours, so took her shoes off for a minute. She carried
them downstairs.

"One thing is easy enough to check." That was Amy's voice coming through the
door to the stairs. She stopped. "Is there an Albany Bank in Chicago? Is a
James Trainor a vice president there? The first is in the Chicago White
Pages. Do you really think he's bullshitting the rest? Remember that you can
tell any sort of story on campus, but Marilyn knew him in high school."

"Bullshitting us that he is a nerd?" Phyllis sounded dubious.

"Oh, I believe all that," Deborah said. "But the sudden campus romance
sounds awfully suspicious. Marilyn was terribly anxious to belong...."

"No more anxious than we were to pledge her," Amy said.

"True, but she might have thought that a non-Greek boyfriend would block our
acceptance. They both tell the same story, but that's a guy who supposedly
aced physics. Do you think he couldn't learn a story that simple? Do you
think he wouldn't do it for her? Did you see the way he looked at her? The
guy would back her in anything."

"Well," Caitlin said, "she's a sister now. And, really, she is a good
addition. As Amy said, we were anxious to pledge her. There were only twelve
pledges this year. You guys are moving on, but some of us have to stay for a
year after you leave. Don't poison the house with your suspicions."

"She's right, you know," said Deborah. "That's all water over the dam. She's
our sister, and we'll believe her. And, actually, how long do campus
romances last, anyway?"

Marilyn crept up to the top of the stairs, put on her shoes, and came
clattering downstairs. When she got to the door, the meeting had broken up.
She smiled to them and went to find Andy. She danced as many dances with him
as she could, and -- when she had to sit out -- made sure he sat out with
her.

Well, she was their sister. Which meant that they were her sisters. But this
semester she'd make sure that she got all of her schoolwork done. And she'd
go out with Andy when he invited her. She'd do sorority stuff, but not to
the exclusion of her future or the guy who would back her.

Walking to the movies the next week, Andy asked her about their English
classes. They had different teachers, but the syllabus and texts were the
same. They were in nearly the same place in the book. Andy asked for study
hints.

"I've talked to my History professor. He suggested that I could have got an
A if I'd put more effort into my paper. Maybe so, but that semester included
the part of American history I really know about. I can't be sure enough
about my History grade to omit trying for an A in English, too. You're the
English expert. What should I do?"

"Well, I'm not going to compare our grades, expert or not, but what got me
through the pledge period with a B was that I'd read the literature stories
early on. When I read them for assignments..." She wasn't about to tell him
how often she'd not read the assignments immediately before class but winged
it from memory. "... I was dealing with familiar material."

"I can do that." Andy, whatever the stereotypes of engineering majors,
regarded reading as something everyone did.

"Now, what help can you give me on History?"

"Not much," he replied. "If I'm going to write a better paper, I'm going to
concentrate on an early period of what this semester covers. I'm going to
write about the guys who led us into the electrical era -- Edison, Tesla,
Steinmetz. Maybe I'll include Westinghouse, too; I don't know anything about
him. That's playing off my strength, but it's not your strength."

"Well, that's at least a suggestion -- not the engineers, the strength. I
know about writers. Maybe I'll cover some literary movement."

"Wasn't the wild west invented during this period? I know it was after the
Civil War."

"Well, I'll work on some authors who interest <b>me</b>." But that was
typical of Andy -- give him an idea and he'd see a concretion.

It was still too cold, and the trees were dripping. They returned to the
front parlor. They weren't the only couple, but Andy sat on the piano bench
and held her on his lap. They looked out the window with the piano shielding
most of their bodies from others' eyes. Andy not only held her tits like
that, he started stroking her legs. He kept his hands outside her clothes,
however. She didn't get to kiss him much, but he continually scattered
kisses over what he could reach -- her neck, her ears, even the back of her
head. Those kisses were as arousing as his hands on her tits. She called him
up the next night.

"Look, our talk about the subjects we're both taking gave me an idea. Why
don't you come over Friday after dinner and bring your History and English
books. Maybe we could study together."

Amy said that they could use the study room if nobody else was using it. It
was on the first floor, but it was usually reserved for members only.
Everybody laughed at her for studying on a Friday night, but it meant that
the house would be practically empty. And, despite her own doubts, they did
get a lot of studying done. They split their time between the subjects. She
helped Andy more on English, but he helped her more on American History.

When people started to come back, talking loudly, Andy and she quit studying
by mutual consent. Nobody had come into the room yet, so they came together
for a kiss in privacy. When they were done, he lifted her so that she was
standing on a chair. Now, her head was higher than his. He pressed his face
between her tits while she bent over to kiss <b>his</b> ears. His hands
cupped her seat. He squeezed, but very gently. After his parka was fastened,
he bent over to kiss her gently in the entry hall. She went upstairs early.

Sunday dinner was at 2:00 p.m. Despite that, many of the members slept in
and skipped breakfast. After dinner, there was always a formal chapter
meeting. This day, after all the ceremonies and routine business, Pamela had
an announcement.

"Next Friday, we have a chapter date with Psi Upsilon. That means that we
will all go there together. We expect everybody to be present and dressed
for a party at the end of supper. Georgiana and Sharon (the two seniors who
didn't live in the house), warn me if you don't plan to be here for supper."

She'd always known -- and had warned Andy -- that her study dates were
subject to house events, but having the second study date cancelled might
tick Andy off. And, too, she thought the first one had taught her something.
She did want to end the year with a better GPA.

What was worse, Wednesday brought a downpour. When she was called to the
phone, she already knew it was a cancellation of their movie date.

"Have you looked outside?" Andy asked. She hadn't had to. He lived in a
high-rise dorm with reinforced concrete walls and a roof far overhead. She
lived on the top floor of what could have been a private house -- luxurious
for one family, but there were larger ones -- with wooden walls. She could
hear the storm even now.

"Yeah."

"You don't want to go out in that, and I don't want to take you out in
that."

"Well, no."

"It's gauche of me to invite myself over, but do you want a study date
tonight and a movie some other time?" That would be lovely, except...

"Andy, that would still mean your walking all that way."

"Half as far, really. I'd have to walk over and back, anyway. I'd also walk
with you. And, honestly, Marilyn, I can move faster than you can." He could
certainly walk faster than she did on dates.

"Well, if you're willing." More members were home that night, and the study
room was in use. When Andy got there and shed his parka and overshoes, they
set themselves up in the dining room.

She told him about having to cancel Friday, and they decided to study what
they figured would be a week ahead. Andy turned out to have a good voice for
poetry. He was really bad at marking accents, but when he read, the accents
were there. They were on the Gilded Age in history, and she knew as much
about it as he did -- not all that much before they read the section. She
had as much right to the dining room as anyone else, and -- having claimed
it first -- she chased back out two couples who drifted in looking for a
more private make-out space.

She was just as happy when the noise from the other rooms got louder.

"I think that's it." Her brain was about to shut down.

"Yeah, I think we're done, anyway. I'll call, and we'll set up another time
depending on your sorority's schedule and the weather." They came together
for a kiss. When he lifted her, she wrapped her legs around his waist --
much easier when she was wearing jeans. The kiss went on and on while his
hands kneaded her seat.

"Study? My ass!" said Amy. She hadn't heard the door open.

"Thanks," said Andy, "but I'd rather study hers."

"Really, Amy," she said, "we did get a lot of studying done."

"Yeah, I could tell. He'll probably ace Anatomy, but did you study any
course you're taking?" Despite her words, Amy's tone was laughing. Andy put
her down but stood behind her. Poor guy probably was trying to hide his hard
on. She led him around the table while standing so that Amy's view was
blocked. When he'd bundled himself into his parka, Andy bent over to give
her a kiss. It was nice, and included some tongue, but it was by-far the
mildest kiss of the evening.

She went up to her room to read Psychology. She wished she could study that
with Andy, or -- at least -- with somebody.

The weather was still damp, although not at all as wet as Wednesday's, on
Friday. The drivers among Psi Upsilon brothers shuttled them to the
fraternity house by car. The dance was pleasant enough, and the snacks were
scrumptious. She didn't have to watch her weight as closely as some of her
sisters did. They were driven home afterwards, and no brother tried to grope
her. She'd worn her padded bra, but unnecessarily.

Wednesday, she had a History test. That evening was dry enough for Andy to
take her to another movie. As the trees were still dripping, they returned
to the house and kissed goodbye in the entryway. Really, the study dates had
been more fun. They had been productive, too.  Friday, she got the test
back. (It had been multiple choice, and Professor Griffin had a teaching
assistant to do the grades.) She'd got an A.

"See," she told Amy when she found her in her room before supper, "we did
study." She showed her the test.

"Marilyn! That's great!"

"I just wish Andy were taking psych."

"Well, you know, it might be more fun to study with your boyfriend, but
there are plenty of your sisters who are taking psych. Why don't you ask."
So at supper, she did. Connie said she might be interested.

"I used the house files last semester, but the instructor changed the test."

"Well, I have to learn this stuff as a prerequisite. I'm perfectly willing
to look at the house files the day before the test, but I want to learn the
stuff first. Otherwise, I'll find myself not knowing what  I need next
year." Connie, who was not the leader type, agreed. They set Saturday
morning for their study-together time, and agreed that each would read the
section first.

Still, later that night, it was much more fun to study with Andy. He gave
her a big kiss to celebrate the A before they sat down to work.

The pattern went on like that, with regular studying with Connie and
irregular, but nearly as frequent, studying with Andy. As the spring weather
got better, she and Andy saw more movies and had much more time together in
the trees.

The sorority had a group song scheduled as a Greek-week event. Knowing that
she was taking chorus, Antonia, the Junior who was in charge, asked her to
participate. She agreed bashfully -- she wasn't one of the stars of the
music class. She needn't have worried; she was among the better singers in
the house.

Andy asked her to another university dance. Almost the entire house had
their own dates there. People were mostly switching partners, and she
suggested that Andy ask some of her freshman sisters. After one dance with
her, Andy was about to get them Cokes -- this dance was on school property,
and actually dry -- when she saw Caitlin and Natalie sitting together
without male companionship.

"Get four Cokes," she said, "and join me at that table." She sat down with
her 'family.' Natalie was her big sister, and Caitlin was Natalie's. When
Andy set down the glasses, she passed them around. She introduced everybody,
although they'd all seen each other.

"Now, Caitlin," she asked. "Do you really want to hear Andy's take on the
real history of the Civil War?"

"You can laugh at me, but I'd be interested."

"Here's your chance. And, Natalie, let's move on. Believe me, you don't want
to hear this." They took their glasses and moved to another table.

"If he's that bad, why do you go with him?" Natalie asked.

"He's not <b>all</b> that bad. He doesn't talk about his hobby horse any
more than the next guy talks about himself. It's just that he's polished
this argument with so many repetitions that the second time I heard it
sounded like a tape recording of the first. And Andy's the sort of person
who thinks numbers communicate. You don't hear him say 'a lot,' 'many,' or
even 'a shitload.' It's always '7 million, 238 thousand.'"

"What's that the number of?"

"The beast, for all I know," she confessed. "I just made it up. I couldn't
repeat it again to save my life."

"You're serious about this guy, aren't you?" Good question. Now if only she
had a good answer.

"I'm not sure."

"Well, you <b>look</b> serious," Natalie said.

"The real question is: 'how serious is he?'"

"If an outside opinion is any help, he looks serious, too. Does he have
another girl?"

"I don't think so."

"Well, if he takes you to university dances, and he doesn't belong to a
frat, where would he take another girl?" Natalie had a good point, and Andy
didn't talk like somebody who saw two movies a week. "The problem isn't
whether you're able to keep him, it's whether you should want to."

Two boys came over at this point to ask them to dance. She didn't feel
attracted to the guy who asked her, nor did she feel comfortable dancing
with another guy when she'd steered Andy into a conversation with Caitlin.
When he was dancing with somebody else was different. Natalie went off with
the guy who'd asked her.

"Sorry Paul," she said.

"Well, at least you remember my name. What did I do wrong?"

"I'm sort of in a relationship, and I don't mind dancing with other guys
when he's dancing with another woman, but... Oh, it's complicated. But it's
nothing you did wrong." Which was almost true. she would have refused, maybe
refused more vigorously, if he had attracted her.

"Damn! I had it figured out. The brothers tell me that two women sitting
together are both looking for dance partners."

"Maybe it's almost always true. Why aren't you looking for another pair?"

"Nope. I'm being watched by the brothers of my house. Two minutes talking
with a pretty girl is success. How do they know whether you're too tired to
dance? Getting turned down in a few seconds is a bad failure." At this
point, she saw Andy get up.

"Well, you'd better head out, then. Here comes my date. You don't want them
seeing you upstaged by him." And he left. Andy, however, held Caitlin's
chair and it was another minute before they both came over.

"He didn't quite persuade me," Caitlin said, "but it sounded reasonable. He
should put it in a paper."

"Did," said Andy. "Bombed."

"Why?"

"I'd said it all in class, beforehand, and I had minimal citations to back
up my assertions. Professor claimed I hadn't put in much research nor any
thought on it this year. Which, after all, was true."

"And what does 'bombed' mean?" Marilyn had learned that Andy's standards
were a little higher than most of her sisters' were.

"A C on the paper. It was enough to get me a B in the course."

"You two go dance," Caitlin said. And so they did. There were only three
more dances that night, and they shared them all. The trees were occupied
when they got there, and so they went on to the house. Even though the
audience inhibited their making out, she was happy enough. She was a little
too tired to enjoy being lifted into his kiss.

Many students planned to go away for Spring Break. Andy asked whether she
was going back to Evanston. She was.

"Me, too. Taking your books?" She hadn't planned to, but...

"Think it's a good idea?"

"Sure. You get a chance to get ahead of the lectures. Maybe we could study
together."

"I'll look forward to it." And, after some thought, she packed her
Psychology book, too.  While the most attractive feature of studying with
Andy was being with Andy, his idea of studying over the break was a good
one.

They arranged to go north together on the same train. Many of her friends
were going home to the Chicago area. Others were going to visit friends who
lived in the metro. And, of course there were a few getting off at some
intermediate stops or going on from Chicago. There were nearly a  dozen
people she knew in the station waiting for the train. Andy had met her
sorority sisters, but she introduced him to them as well as to her
classmates. He introduced her to three classmates. She didn't know how to
describe him besides his name. He called her "a neighbor and old friend,"
which wasn't any more adequate. They sat together, and he started asking
about her recent class experiences.

"Swimming is going fine; I'm going to use it come summer. Chorus is
okay...." She could drivel on for the entire trip without getting an answer
to her question. "Look, how should I describe you?"

"Six foot one? EE major? Nerd? Basically, as long as I'm not there, say
anything you want."

"But when you're there. This is my...?"

"What's accurate? Occasional date? Study partner? Distant admirer?"

"You haven't been all that distant. Should I say that you're my boyfriend?"
That was the question she'd been trying to avoid, but he'd been no help.

"I'd be very happy if that were true."

"Well, we go on a lot of dates for not being boyfriend and girlfriend."

"Okay. And may I call you my girlfriend, too? After all, you go on other
dates. I haven't dated anybody else since you went to the first movie with
me. I'd say that you're the woman I'm obsessed with, except that you're an
English major. You wouldn't want to be described by a sentence ending in a
preposition." She laughed. As a matter of fact, she was much more a woman
than an English major. If a guy said he was obsessed with her, she wasn't
going to criticize his grammar. Well, the question was settled, sort of.
They were boyfriend and girlfriend.

When the train had arrived at Central Station, Andy got off first with his
bags, helped her down, set her bags beside her, and then went back to swing
down the bags of two of her friends who had been in the same car. She waited
for him, and he put his lighter bag under his left arm. He carried his heavy
bag in his left hand, and her large suitcase in his right. She was left with
one bag.

"Being met?" he asked.

"I think so."

"I'm taking a cab. Dad'll be still at work. If you don't have a ride, I'll
have the cab drop you." But, as she had expected, Mom was there.

"Mom, this is Andy. I've written you about him."

"Mrs. Grant." Andy set down the bag to shake her hand, but then picked it up
again. He carried it to where Mom had parked the car and waited for her to
open the trunk. When the suitcase was inside the trunk, he turned to her.
Mom was asking her questions, not paying much attention to Andy.

"See you," he said during Mom's excited quizzing. He shifted his lighter bag
to his right hand and strode off.

"Well," Mom said watching him go, "you have written a little about him, but
I don't think you've written everything."

"What's there to say? He's very nice. He's taken me on dates, and we've
studied together. He understands about how important Zeta is in my life."
Really, if you wanted to summarize Andy, 'he understands' might be it.

"And you like him?" she asked after they were in the car and starting home.
"More than Colin?" Colin was ancient history.

"I like him very much. He's much nicer than Colin." Andy was nice, and Colin
hadn't been. But she wasn't going to tell Mom the ways Colin hadn't been
nice.

"Where does he belong?"

"He's not in a frat."

"Strange date."

"You'd be surprised how many guys on campus don't join fraternities."

"Well..."

"Yeah, a couple of the older sisters think it's inappropriate, but -- as I
said -- he's a nice guy. Some things are my choice." And, thus, not their
choice and <b>certainly</b> not Mom's. "Anyway, what's happened since
Christmas?" And Mom accepted the change of topic.

She saw Andy during church. He was with his father, and he didn't come over
after the service. Monday, he called her up.

"Marilyn? We spoke of studying together. Would this afternoon be a good
time? I can get control of the dining room here. Or would you rather do it
at your place? Or would another time be better?" She'd seen her house; she'd
never seen his. Besides Mom was there and Pete was likely to come home and
pester her, especially if she had a guest.

"Your place would be fine." Before she could ask for his address he broke in
again.

"So when would be a good time for me to come by and pick you up?" Well, he'd
said afternoon.

"How about 12:30?"

"Fine. Your place, 12:30." Which meant, since it was nearly 10:30 already,
that she had two hours to shower, dress, dig out her books, and eat.

"What's all the bustle?" Mom asked when she came downstairs carrying her
books.

"I'm going to study with Andy. I need to eat lunch first."

"I thought you were on your vacation. I left some pancake batter."

"Okay. I'll have pancakes for lunch." And she did, along with a few
left-overs and a coke.

She was upstairs brushing her teeth when the bell rang. He was five minutes
early.

"Marilyn, Andy's here." When she got downstairs, Andy picked up her books.

"Hello," to her. "Nice to see you again Mrs. Grant," to Mom. They left
together. When they'd turned down the sidewalk and the house was no longer
in sight, he switched the books to his other hand. He reached towards her,
and she took his hand.

"I'm sure your mother is a wonderful person." She wasn't. "But, somehow, I
feel uncomfortable talking to her." He wasn't the only one.

"Just be glad you can escape. What's with the shirt?" He was wearing an UCLA
sweatshirt.

"Gift from my younger sister, April. I don't wear it on campus." They were
silent for the rest of the walk. Andy's house looked as large as hers.
Whatever timidity he'd felt about holding her hand in front of her family,
he clearly felt none in front of his. She slipped her hand out from his
while they were going up the front stairs. The porch hardly deserved the
name, it was small enough that he stood on the last step while unlocking the
door. Then he ushered her in. A strong-looking Black -- well, light brown --
woman came towards them from the back.

"Mrs. Bryant, this is Marilyn Grant. We're going to be studying in the
dining room."

"Miss Grant."

And they did study. First History, where Andy was way better prepared than
she was. He ended up telling her what the book said about the Fair Deal.
When they got to English, it was more balanced. Andy had still done more
preparation, but she had much more of the context. He ended up raising
specific questions, and she would -- sometimes reading the book while he
waited -- answer them. Finally, she closed her book.

"My brain went numb ten minutes ago. I don't know anything." She glanced at
her watch. It was nearly 4:30.

"Cool. Come here." And she walked around the table while he pushed back his
chair. He crossed his legs and helped her up into his lap. He kissed the
back of her ears and her neck while cupping her tits. "Yeah," he said. The
feelings were pleasant, and she sank into them.

Some indefinite time later, there was a noisy throat clearing from in back
of them.

"Mrs. Bryant," Andy said. "Would you please shut the door? I thought I had
shut it." He dropped his hands slowly down her front to her stomach, but
Mrs. Bryant must have seen.

"Is Miss Grant staying for dinner?"

"Good question. Can you?" The latter question was murmured to her.

"I couldn't possibly," she said.

"Alas, no," Andy said, although Mrs. Bryant must have heard her.

"It's 5:45." On this news, Andy lifted her off his lap. When she was
standing, he rose and grabbed all four books.

"She has to set the table, and I have to walk you home." He put his books on
a chair against the wall, and gestured her ahead of him towards the door.

"What did she see?" she asked when they were outside.

"Very little. My back was to that door, and I'm wider than you are. What did
she guess? Probably a fair amount. She's a married woman with kids -- Hell!
a grandkid. I doubt that there is anything she hasn't done. What will she
tell? Absolutely nothing to Dad. What she gossips at home about the doings
of the Trainors, I have no idea. She's probably not used to providing much
gossip; we're an incredibly dull family."

"I don't think you're all that dull." He'd certainly provided her with a lot
of excitement while she was on his lap.

"That's nice to hear. I'm not certain that your sisters share that opinion,
though." Well, no, they didn't get the opportunity to have the excitement
he'd just provided her. "Well, shall we do this again?" he continued. "Does
Wednesday suit? Want to start with lunch? She might clear her throat like
some artillery barrage, but Mrs. Bryant is a good cook."

"Is she there Wednesday, too?"

"Every day. She was part-time before the divorce, but Dad hired her
full-time afterwards." The house wasn't <b>all</b> that large. She'd guess
the same size as her family's. Keeping it clean, even with two males as
messy as Pete not picking up for themselves, didn't look like a full-time
job. Even if you included cooking. Mom did most of the cooking, when they
didn't go out or she wasn't teaching Marilyn to be a housewife. She did some
of the cleaning, too. Even so, Dee didn't look overworked in her two
mornings a week. Of course, if Pete left his room in too great of a mess,
Dee ignored it.

"Sounds attractive." And it did, not so much the food as the company.

"Wednesday then?"

"Yeah. Thanks." She caught up his hand and they walked like that until they
passed the Carlsons' tree and came into the sight line of her front windows.
They dropped their grip almost simultaneously. This wasn't a date; it was
just studying together. She doubted that she could persuade Mom of that. She
knew that she couldn't persuade herself. Well, if she was more interested in
Andy than in the studying, still she should keep up her half of the studying
to be fair to Andy. She hadn't shone at all this afternoon.

So she studied harder that night and Tuesday. She got up in time for
breakfast, Wednesday. She was as well prepared as Andy that day.  She went
back to school truly on top of her subjects. She'd even studied Psychology
as break week turned into Holy Week.

Again, Andy and she rode the train together. The conversation was sporadic,
but she felt comfortable in his presence. They got to talking about her
History paper.

"I figured to do one on a couple of novels the book mentions. "Literary
Progressivism," I might call it. I've already read <i>The Gentleman from
Indiana</i> and <i>The Titan</i>. I've started, but not got very far in,
<i>The Octopus</i>."

"Fine. But remember that you're writing history not literary criticism. The
prof will be more impressed with three citations of somebody else's short
reviews than of your page-by-page analysis of the entire original book."

"You're probably right. But they do bring the issues to life."

"Yeah. You have to think, and then pretend to be merely a sponge. On the
other hand, you'll spend the rest of your life having read those novels.
That isn't something which the next girl who picks up your paper and copies
your citations will have."

"How do you know about house files?"

"I keep my ears open. Your sisters aren't all that good at keeping secrets.
What I want to know is how well they do in advanced courses. Y'know teachers
ain't all idiots. When they tell you that this course is a prerequisite for
that one, they sometimes are just trying to cut down enrollment, but
<b>sometimes</b> the requirement is real.  I had to struggle in Calc, after
all, and I had studied during the course that was supposed to prepare me for
it. What do people do who memorize the answers to the test the night
before?"

"Well, for one thing, they don't take Calculus." And they didn't react in
horror to a C on a test. And they did go to class, for the most part. She
suspected that the house files would raise your grade one point, at most.
The professors knew that they existed. And, as Andy suggested, when you're
taking the second or third course in a sequence, class participation would
require a little actual knowledge of the first one.

Back in town, Andy carried her larger bag along with his two. She'd packed
her books in the smaller bag expecting that. He didn't know she was carrying
the heavier suitcase. He left her at her house with the suitcases on the
porch.

"Movie Tuesday?" he asked. "Subject to weather and all."

"Why thanks." And she lifted her face for his kiss before she went in. The
things which could have gone wrong Tuesday didn't. They held hands all the
way back from the movie. At the clump of trees, they stopped.

"Are you really my girlfriend?" he asked. Well, what did that mean?

"Of course." They walked into the clump of trees together. With Colin, she'd
done everything else but, and she really liked Andy more. Still, she'd had
more privacy then, and she and Colin had progressed slowly. What did Andy
think came with being his girlfriend?

"Marilyn, you are sweet," he said. He lifted her, and she wrapped her legs
around his waist. He kissed her deeply and ran one hand up and down her
back. He broke the kiss to rain kisses all over her face. "So sweet." When
he set her down, she turned around and backed against him. He cupped her
tits. Later, he lifted her from in back and kissed the back and sides of her
neck while holding her up. She couldn't help him at all. "So sweet," he
repeated finally. He led her out to the sidewalk. Once again, he kissed her
good night while standing two steps below the porch. Their faces were almost
at a level.

In her room later, she realized that 'girlfriend' hadn't meant intensifying
their making out to Andy. He just wanted to be told their relationship. And,
if they ever got privacy, how far was she willing to go? Actually, although
she cared for Andy very much, she was only willing to go one more step. She
didn't fool herself, though, that when she'd taken that step, she would be
awfully resistant to taking the next. This was Andy. When he wanted to
unbutton her blouse and unsnap her bra, she wouldn't resist. 'Where,' of
course, was a different issue. But Andy had never pushed her for
exhibitionism. He seemed, if anything, more modest than she was about making
out in front of her sisters and their dates.

When they reached their trees on the next movie date, what he wanted
surprised her. She turned willingly enough when he pressed her shoulder with
his hand. Instead of stroking her tits, though, he had more directions.

"Put your upper arms straight down to your sides and raise your hands about
shoulder height." When she had, he picked her up by her elbows. "Now stretch
your legs out towards that tree trunk." She did, and he moved forward until
her feet were braced against the trunk. That pretty much held her up. He had
her raised to a level where he could kiss the back of her left ear and that
side of her neck. His hands cupped her tits, and she felt too much to pay
attention to the time. After a while, though, pleasant as the sensations
from her neck and tits were, her legs started to ache from the unusual
position. Just then, he reached for her right hand and brought it across her
body to his mouth. He kissed each finger, putting the later ones in his
mouth to suck on them. Then he kissed and licked her palm. Thrills ran
through her.

"Andy." She wasn't sure she could hold herself up.

"Okay." He grabbed her armpits. "Relax." When she did, he let her down
gradually. When she had solid footing, he bent over and kissed the top of
her head. "You're sweet."

"So are you, but you're silly, too." They slowly walked the few remaining
yards to the house hand in hand.

The rest of the year went like that. Study dates Friday night unless there
was either an all-school dance or a social function which involved the whole
sorority, movie dates Tuesday night unless the weather intervened or there
were Friday conflicts two weeks in a row. They made out at the end of every
date, but Andy didn't push her for the next step. He did get less
self-conscious about being seen by her sisters, though. Two weeks before
finals, they scheduled two study dates. They wouldn't see each other until
finals were over. When he didn't call her on the night of the last day of
exams, she called him the next afternoon.

"Andy?"

"Marilyn? I'm sorry. I'm fuzzy headed." Andy, fuzzy headed?

"Something happen?"

"Tied one on. Always do after exams." She'd never seen him drunk. She'd seen
him drink, at house affairs, but it never seemed to have any effect.

"Sounds like this is a bad time to call."

"Really, it is."

"Call me when it's a better time, will you?"

When he called her the next day, they agreed on both taking the same train
north on Saturday. Again, the station was full of her friends and sisters.
The sisters piled on together and got two pairs of facing seats. She, Andy,
and six of her sisters took them.

"So, Andy," Lisa asked, "aren't you afraid of being surrounded by Zates?"

"Not at all. I understand that National has signed the Geneva Convention."

"But that's only if you're captured."

"Don't look now, but one of your number captured me long ago." At "one of
your number," he squeezed her shoulder.

"So," Selena asked, "why don't we see a ring?" She wished Selena wouldn't
make that joke. A ring was crossing a bridge -- maybe four bridges -- before
they got to them.

"Well, she's hooked me, but she hasn't decided to put me in the creel yet.
She's thinking of throwing me back."

"I don't know," she put in. "I think he looks like a keeper."

"And now we know what kind of fish I am," Andy said. "Though I didn't know
she was English. I'm a kipper." They groaned. She groaned, too. The subject
changed after that. They got to complaining about courses and worrying about
grades. 'Trish came along the aisle of the car.

"You guys look like you're having fun. I'm all alone. Can I squeeze in?" She
pressed against Andy to make room. He moved over but then pulled her against
him. She could feel the whole length of his leg pressed against hers. She
cuddled into his side.

"Generous of Marilyn how much room she's giving 'Trish, isn't it?" Selena
asked.

"She moved away from her. I don't think Marilyn likes 'Trish."

"She might just like Andy more," 'Trish put in.

"You think?" That came from several throats at the same time.

"Just giving you a little room," Andy said. "If she really liked me, she'd
ride in my lap." At this, she got up and moved towards his lap. He lifted
her up, and she rode the rest of the distance sitting on him. His arm was
across her waist, holding her on but also just touching the bottoms of her
tits. When the conductor came by to look at tickets, 'Trish had to go and
get hers. The conductor went away shaking his head over the crazy kids
riding crowded together in a half-empty car.

Once again, Andy went off the train first, put his bags down, swung her bags
down, and then helped her down. Then he helped several sisters with their
bags. They were both carrying more in their luggage this time, and he put
her smaller bag under his arm while he used his hands for both of his. When
his father met them still on the platform, he took Andy's suitcases, and
Andy followed carrying both of hers.

"And can we drop you at home, Miss Grant?" his father asked.

"I think I'm being met." Mom, Dad, and Pete were waiting in the proper
place. She made introductions all around, then they walked to the car. After
Andy put her bags in the trunk, he took back one of his from his father.

"And who is this Andy guy?" Dad asked when they were on their way. She was
in the back seat with Pete. Mom was riding shotgun. She took a deep breath.

"He's my boyfriend. He was in MYF last year."

"I don't like the way he was handling your suitcase. That's your private
property, some of it -- I'll bet -- quite private."

"For God's sake, Dad! It's a packed suitcase. It's not like he was fingering
my underwear. If I'd taken a train farther, a redcap would have handled it.
Andy's a gentleman. He wouldn't consider having me struggle along with
something heavy when he could carry it."

"I don't know him."

"Fine. He's not your boyfriend. I do know him, and I get to make the
selection."

"You're still my daughter." Then, as if the words had invoked other
thoughts, "How do you think you did in classes?"

"Grades aren't in yet, but I think I did all right. Homework and midterms
were all B s and A s."

"And how," Mom asked, "was Zeta?"

"Loads of fun. How well we did -- as opposed to how much I enjoyed it -- I
can't really tell. I don't, after all, have another year to compare with
it." They went on catching up.

She was home, and she had no more class work. This was supposed to be a
vacation. Still, she wasn't totally happy about being home. She'd been a
college woman; now her parents -- especially Dad -- treated her like a
little girl.


The end
College Collage - F
by Uther Pendragon
nogardneprethu@gmail.com
2011/06/16


These same events from Andy's perspective:
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Uther_Pendragon/www/Gjt/tra_02 m.htm
Andy's experience

The first adventures of Marilyn with Andy:
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Uther_Pendragon/www/Gjt/tra_01f.htm
"The Meeting - F"


The index to almost all my stories:
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Uther_Pendragon/www/index.htm
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