Lena was a graduate student and took Bettes class as part of her thesis. She was 23 and planned to start her PhD next year since she would finish her masters this year. That would take a maximum five  or four years, by the time she would be in her late twenties Lena planned to be a professor, first assistant then associate until she got tenure. Bette knew all this and was thinking about accepting Lenas request for Bette to be her supervisor. Bette had told her that she would have to wait until Lena got closer to her thesis completion. One could not get their hopes up about academia, it was a blood sport. Bette had learned that in her first few weeks. Bitchy Profs and geeky administrators. But of course Bette held her own. She gave off vibes that told people to not mess with her, and no one did…they knew she would cut them down. Since her life fell apart almost seven years ago Bette had acquired an even more acid tongue. But now she opened her bag and pulled out her stuff. Lena had tentatively stepped forward, to talk before the debacle of students came filing in. Bettes office hours were in the morning so her students came during those two hectic hours. The rest of the day was devoted to administrative work, being a Dean was tough but the pay was good and Bette admitted she did like her position. She didnt know if she was going to teach next year, she wasnt a professor so she only taught a special course once a year. She had been here for almost six years.

            Bette sat down behind her desk, waited for Lena to come up and sit on the seat. Bette liked the arrogance this one had, she exuded it like perfume. Bette saw how bitchy she was to everyone, but she had such an eye…such a brilliantly quick mind. She knew how to really look and analyze. She reminded Bette of herself in college, cocky and thinking the world was her oyster. Bette smiled a little bit, thinking of how that mentality was crushed to the ground. Her life had been through the trash more than once…and then Angelica. Bette felt her heart warm…thinking of her daughter did that. Bette turned back to Lena…yes? They talked about a paper Bette assigned, discussing Nan Goldins photographs blah blah blah. Bette motioned Lena to come forward; she looked over her paper with her, pointing out suggestions. Lena leaned forward so Bette could see the swell of her breasts. Bette breathed in Lenas perfume…it was intoxicating. But she must have been pretty nonchalant because Lena got up and thanked her, pausing by the door to give a toothy smile. Lena rarely smiled so Bette was glad. She surprised herself sometimes with feeling of tenderness, almost maternal ness that she felt for her students. Bette watched Lena leave and like how her ass looked in that black skirt. Bette smiled to herself again, feeling like a dirty old man in a bathrobe…Bukowski unabashedly checking everything with a pussy out.