Whoever's sick joke of an idea it was to have a recitation session at 8:00 AM is a damn fool in my book. Recitation is the epitome of a wasted class. Just an hour spent staring at the board as problem after problem of homework is written and solved. Didn't I buy the textbook for that?

Just another wasted hour. It's not even taught by real teachers, just TAs who don't give a shit because they're bitter at their life that consists of grading papers all day long and being the professor's little bitch.

But there I sat...8AM, first day of my senior year of college...in fucking recitation.

Then he walked in.

Ok, I honestly didn't even know, much less cared if the sound of the opening door was just another student until he passed my desk. And I smelled him. And I wanted to taste him.

My eyes locked on his back and ass, looking him up and down in that red button-down with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and fitted grey slacks as he jotted a few short lines on the board.

Enhanced Calculus III
C. Hockley
TA: Luke Conway
SR 416

He finally turned with a smile to face the class. "Good morning."

Jesusmaryfuckme. Since when did an attractive TA ever exist in the history of this institution, ever?


Right fucking now. Immediately, in this instant, before my very eyes.

God, 8AM never felt so good.

And that was only the beginning...