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// Chapter 43: Hanging Thoughts Early in the School Day 
// Story: Marshmallow Dreams 
// by Halira 
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I stopped to catch my breath after running hard and glanced at my phone. Three minutes. I was three minutes late to class and adding time to it. Curse my stumps for legs! My first class of college and I was starting off tardy. 

I was standing next to the image of Sunset Blessing, and I imagined her looking down and judging the freshman that couldn't get to class on time. I didn't know if she went to college when she was younger, but if she did, I imagined she wasn't late for her classes. She was such a judgemental drawing.

There wasn't enough air in my overly burdened lungs to keep running. If I tried to keep running, my insides would turn to gelatin, and my parents would be collecting whatever life insurance they had on me. I would have to walk the remainder of the way. How far did I still have to go? I checked the closest door number. 

Oh, one more classroom over. 

I walked to the next room and cautiously opened the door before trying to creep in like a ninja stealthily. Yeah, I'm the marshmallow ninja. You think you see me, but you can't see the marshmallow through the s'more ninja—play Mission Impossible music. 

Okay, I have no idea where I was going with that—none of that made sense, except s'mores. I could do with a s'more right now. Maybe my brain had been deprived of oxygen from running. I just did everything to keep quiet as I entered the classroom. Mind, forget I ever came up with any of that. This is why pleasantly plump ponies should not go running while carrying a metric ton of textbooks.

After entering the classroom, I was met with everyone staring at me. So much for stealth. 

"Don't think that's the professor either," someone muttered.

My ears perked up. I was late, but the professor wasn't here yet! 

I didn't waste time. I moved to the closest empty seat I could find. The one I found had a unicorn stallion ahead of me, a human to my left, an earth pony behind me, and the wall to my right. These seats didn't have backs to them, which fit ponies just fine, but I wondered if it took a toll on human backs not to have support. That was a mystery for another day. Right now, I was just happy I wasn't getting marked tardy. 

The door opened wide, spilling daylight into the artificial light of the windowless room. A night pony mare came in, with two saddlebags bulging with papers. She pulled the door shut with a wing and looked around the classroom with wide eyes.

"Not the professor either," another person muttered. 

"Um, actually, I am!" the night pony announced, then started hurrying to the front of the room. "Give me a moment to set this stuff down, and we'll be ready to start."

I watched her unpack her saddlebags, laying out stacks of papers. Ponies tended to age gracefully after reaching adulthood up until middle age, but I didn't think she was that much older than the students in the room. Her cutie mark was some sort of mathy-thing involving the moon. I guess it fit; it seemed a little odd to have a night pony math teacher. Now that she was easier to examine, I could see that her wings were tattooed and covered with what looked like complex math problems.

She finished unpacking and gave us a beaming smile. "Hello! I'm Professor Layla Torres, and all of you get the honor of being my first ever class! I'm not taking straight attendance right now, but I need to do a headcount. I'll figure out who was missing based on who doesn't sign their contracts today."

"Contracts?" someone across the classroom asked. 

Professor Torres flapped her wings to do a low hover and began to count to herself. "Twelve—I'll get to that part— seventeen, twenty-three, thirty! I think everyone that's supposed to be here is here—or someone is missing, and I have someone not supposed to be here. Everyone here is here for Calculus One, right?"

A human guy near the back of his room raised his hand. "I'm here for underwater basket weaving."

The night pony landed on the front desk and arched an eyebrow at him. "I see. Well, Wet Weaver, as you henceforth be identified, if you decide you are here for Calculus One, I would like you to come hand these syllabi out and make sure each person in class gets one."

The human now known as Wet Weaver got up and went about his assigned task, seeming completely at ease with his new designation as he walked among the desks handing out a syllabus to each student in the class. 

"While he is handing those out. I will give a brief introduction about myself," Professor Torres announced. "I am a local native, originally hailing from Augusta, but part of the original migration from Augusta to Riverview. I'm not sure how many of you know this, but the location that this school is built upon is the same site the old school building Wild Growth stood upon during the Cataclysm. I attended that school, and I was in the building when Wild Growth was standing on the roof. That was how my senior year of high school went; school ended with a bang."

I was given my syllabus and lined it up on my desk to read, but paid attention to the professor, just in case she decided to give a pop quiz to see if we were listening. 

"As for my professional qualifications," Professor Torres continued. "I have recently completed my master's degree in mathematics from the University of Colorado. I'm planning on working on my doctorate, although I might not begin that until at least this summer. I thought I was going to get the distinction of being the first night pony professor at this school, but it seems I need to share that honor with Professor Moon."

The professor seemed mildly annoyed at the fact she had to be co-first of her type. I found the news interesting, though, just because Professor Moon was my astronomy professor. In hindsight, it should have figured that a professor with the last name of Moon who taught astronomy was probably a night pony, but assuming things like that could get people in trouble. 

Professor Torres recovered her smile. "My most notable achievement so far to date is from when I still was in high school, I helped edit the paper that laid out the foundations of what is now recognized as Middleton's Law in physics, and I happen to be a longtime friend of Doctor Middleton. So if any if you ever have to read that paper for some science class, you'll see my name attached."

"That's cool," someone across the class replied.

Professor Torres nodded. "Yes. Now, you've all got your syllabus in front of you. Both pages of it are the same. You'll be signing one and returning it today to indicate you understand what expectations are. I will be posting a copy of this online as well, but you will be reading over the physical copy today."

I looked over the paper. It gave a brief breakdown of what subjects we would need to know by finales, how we were graded, and when tests and quizzes would be. I also noticed that most dreaded of things mentioned—homework.

"I have a few points of news," the professor continued. "You'll notice there is no D grade. You'll all either get a passing grade of A, B, or C, or you'll fail with an F. There is no almost good enough. You either know the information well enough, or you fail. You also won't be required to bring your book to class if you do what you are supposed to be doing, but you do need it because homework is part of what you are supposed to be doing."

There was a collective groan at this announcement. 

The professor smiled. "But don't worry. It won't be a lot of homework. I chose this book because every chapter ends with a hundred to a hundred and twenty problems to solve. Each of you will have four numbers that only you will have, and you will be expected to do the corresponding problems in each chapter. That means there is no copying your friend's homework, but it also means you only have to worry about four problems instead of a hundred or more. You can even work ahead if you feel you understand the material well enough. If you fail to do your homework, you will need to bring your book to class, as I may call on you to solve your problems in front of the class. Everyone will be called at some point over the semester. Failure to be ready with your completed homework when called upon will hurt your participation grade."

I guess I would make sure my homework was done every day because the textbook for this class was the heaviest of the bunch. Plus, this was a must-pass class, as I had to pass this class to move onto other math classes needed for my degree. 

"This should be one of your easiest classes if you do your homework and pay attention," the professor concluded. "There are no subjective answers here. You are either right or wrong. I can't make any judgments about your opinion because there is no opinion to give."

It shouldn't be that hard. Having homework to do before every class was rough, but I'd taken calculus in high school and done well. I figured this was going to be mostly a review of things I had already done before. 

"I don't have much else to go over today," the professor explained. "Since everyone in here can read, you can review the syllabus on your own. I want each of you to sign a copy of it, confirming you understand it, and turn it in before you go. I keep office hours from nine-thirty to ten-forty-five each weekday morning. I have a separate class of this subject that I teach first thing Tuesday and Thursday, and I have a more advanced class I teach Monday evenings—if any of you are going to need more math courses, this will not be your last course with me. If you have questions and can't catch me at my office, then email me the questions at the address listed on the paper in front of you. There is also a learning center on campus where you can request tutoring. Read over the syllabus, sign it, turn it in, and then you are free to go, and we'll start working Friday."





Early dismissal from my first class meant I was way too early to go to my next. I ended up just sitting outside it, waiting for the previous class to dismiss. I was listening in, and I highly doubted that was my professor or class, not unless cloud density had something to do with English literature. It sounded like something to do with Julie's major, and I wondered if she was in there right now. 

"Hi again." 

I looked up with a grin as I saw Maggie coming up to me. She checked her phone and then sat down on the ground next to me with her back against the wall.

"Out of your first class early?" she asked. 

I nodded. "The professor arrived late, introduced herself, passed out the syllabus, explained that everything was in the syllabus, told us we were going to have daily homework, collected up our signed copies of the syllabus, and said she'd see us Friday. Oh, and that she didn't give out D's. We either pass or fail."

"Straight to the point and no-nonsense, huh?" She said with a smirk.

I shrugged. "Well, she did say some of her background. She told us the campus site used to have a school before the Cataclysm, and it was the building Wild Growth stood on when she went all superpony. She also told us she was a longtime friend of Jess's, which is apparently an impressive thing. I guess Jess is kinda a celebrity among science and math folks."

"You're planning to be an architect, so doesn't science and math folks include you?" Maggie asked. 

"I doubt physics laws about magic impact my field much."

She pointed off in the distance at the trees of the Monument. "If you ever want to make something like that, you might need to know that stuff."

I chuckled. "I doubt anyone could make something like that on purpose. That is a freak accident that got turned into art."

"Maybe someone will figure out how to fuse magic and art together deliberately," Maggie suggested. "Don't discount what people can figure out in the future. It's a brave new world, after all. Things have changed so much, and will only continue to change. Imagine going back in time and telling our parents when they were our age, about the world we live in now."

"When they were our age, there were no ponies, so mine would probably freak when they saw me," I replied in a bemused tone. 

"Right. So who's to say that in ten or twenty years, we won't all have magic buildings?" Maggie concluded. 

"The world is full of possibility," I agreed. 

I relaxed some more. This was nice, sitting back and just talking about stuff ordinary people talked about and imagining what might be coming with the same expectation as everyone else. It was a pleasant break from worrying about Dreamwardens and my weird powers. The world was an extraordinary place as it was, and I enjoyed it for what it was. 

Lately, my life had been divided between real life and a world of secrets. There was no separating myself from one side or the other. They were both parts of my life. My plunge into the secret world was only going to get deeper as the time neared when Psychic Calm retired. It was somewhat bittersweet knowing that, as that secret world at times seemed such a darker place, a place filled with dread and worry. It was the place I could make the most impact, but at the expense of a little bit of the optimism that Maggie and I expressed now. 

My thoughts were getting gloomy, and I turned them into happier ones. I was here with my friend, and I had met lots of new friends this week and would meet many more to come. My adventures were not confined to the shadowy world that others rarely saw. I would have many more here in college, and thinking about that brought a smile to my face.