I arrived at Art History with a minute or two to spare and grinned as I spotted Ashley with an open seat next to her. I quickly took the chair and greeted her.
"Last class on the day for me. How is your day going?" I asked.
Ashley shrugged. "Typical first day. This is my last class today as well. If what I heard about this professor is true, it is going to be a real snooze fest, but an easy A by the end of the semester."
I blinked. "What did you hear?"
She smirked. "Oh, if it is correct, I don't want to spoil it." She stopped smirking. "But if it is true, it is kind of sad, really."
"Sad?" I asked in confusion.
"You'll see," she said knowingly, then leaned in close to me. "By the way, did you notice your boyfriend is in this class?"
I didn't have a boyfriend, but I instantly knew she was talking about Russell. I looked around the class and saw him sitting on the opposite side, near the middle. He saw me spot him and gave me a wave. I did the only thing I could and waved back before sinking back down in my seat. It wasn't that I disliked Russell; it was quite the opposite. He was charming. However, my friends continually taunting me about him made me nervous about talking to him too much. That wasn't fair to Russell since he didn't do anything to deserve me avoiding him, but the boyfriend talk made me uncomfortable.
My concerns about Russell were cut short when an old human man who had to be the professor walked in and went to the front of the class, carrying a stack of papers. His hair was white, not grey, but straight white. It was also long on all sides but left him completely bald on top. His suit looked wrinkly and was an ugly avocado green—something that looked like it was from the nineteen-seventies and had been worn regularly for the last sixty years, and perhaps slept in regularly as well. He was also wearing a pair of horn-rimmed glasses that were taped together. His face was heavily lined, and I wondered exactly how old this guy was.
He turned towards the class before setting down the papers. "This is Art History, correct?" he asked, almost breathlessly.
A chorus of affirmation from the class greeted him, and no student decided to give a smart remark. He blinked a few times before continuing. "And you are supposed to have me as a teacher, right?"
"Um, what's your name?" I asked, loud enough to be heard by the whole class.
He blinked a few more times and adjusted his glasses as he looked at me. "I'm Gabriel Toussaint, Doctor Gabriel Toussaint, or just Doctor Toussaint. Am I supposed to be here?"
"Yes, unless there is a different Doctor Toussaint that teaches Art History," another student answered.
Doctor Toussaint looked at the student that answered and gave a few more confused blinks. "I don't think there is. I guess that means I'm supposed to be here."
He finally set his stack of papers down on the front desk, but they ended up falling over. He grumbled as he bent down and started picking them up. It immediately became evident that his bending down took a lot of work, and a human girl near the front of the class got up and began picking up his papers for him. He didn't seem to notice and continued trying to pick up documents as she finished. When they were all picked up, he looked around the floor, seeming unsure why he was bent down or what he had just been doing.
"Looks like rumors were true," Ashley whispered while shaking her head.
Oh dear… this was sad. Why was the college still having him teach? This guy needed to be retired and possibly have a caregiver watch over him.
The class did not improve as it progressed. Doctor Toussaint did tell about his background. He was a former curator for a major art museum in London and had done restoration work on many paintings over the years. That sounded great until he mentioned that when ETS broke out years ago, he had been forced to retire in a budget crunch by the museum. He had been one of the first faculty members at this college and stated that this was his final semester. The last part seemed a mercy. He clearly had some mental impairment that had developed in old age, and I wondered if it was Alzheimer’s disease.
Unlike all the previous classes, he began lessons on day one, and I was shocked when he took the textbook and just started reading it aloud in front of the class. What kind of lesson was that? I could read the book. What made it worse was he read extremely slow and would stop to sound out words—not the words you might expect, like hard to pronounce places and other names; no, he needed to stop each and every time to sound out the words America and Europe. His way of saying Europe came out more like something akin to e-ore-pe, and each time he said it, I flattened my ears. Surprisingly, the names of painters that I would probably struggle with he didn't have any issue with whatsoever.
It felt like the longest fifty-minute class I had ever been in, and I dreaded that I would have to sit through this three times a week. Art History was a mandatory course for all students at the college. Still, I considered dropping it and signing up for something else and just retaking it in a later semester when a new professor was teaching it. I wasn't sure what I would take in its place, but if every day was going to be like this, then I would die of blunt force trauma to the head from slamming it against my desk repeatedly. I was ordinarily optimistic about most things, but even I had my limits.
I felt terrible for being so frustrated about the class as Ashley and I exited it. I was sure the doctor would have been an excellent teacher a few years ago, and him not being great now wasn't his fault. I resolved to go to one more session before deciding if I needed to switch to another course.
"Well, that was different," Ashley observed as we walked back towards the dorms. "I heard that his mind was going, but I didn't expect all that."
"Poor guy," I said sadly. "I don't know if I can stand to sit through that class. It isn't just that he shouldn't be teaching. I feel like there's no chance I can learn anything."
"From what I heard, he is very lax about attendance. Doesn't even check it," Ashley replied. "His tests are all multiple choice, too. He doesn't give essays or fill in the blanks. If you just read the textbook and show up for tests, you can breeze through the class."
"Feels like cheating," I muttered. "And it still feels like I should be getting more from the class. I can't believe the college is letting him teach right now. I'm sure he was distinguished and respected in the past, but this just makes him look bad."
"He's got tenure. It's hard to make a person with tenure retire, even if it is obvious they should," Ashley explained. "But enough worrying about him. What're you doing for the rest of the day?"
I shifted the weight of my saddlebags. "First, I'm unloading these books. After that, I'll give my mom and stepdad a call to tell them how things are going; then I'm going to hang out with my friend Maggie for a while—maybe have dinner with her, then I'm going to go check on a possible foalsitting job to earn some money. How about you?"
"I've got to trade some books in that I won't be needing, then I'm going to go check on Sunflower to see how she's doing after her first day," Ashley replied. "We'll be heading out for most of the evening. I have an acquaintance who wants to meet Sunflower in person, and I'm going to take Sunflower to go see her."
"Oh, it's nice you are helping Sunflower meet new friends," I said with a big smile. "She seems nice, but gets nervous easily. Having you introduce her to people one at a time will help her."
Ashley shook her head. "This isn't a friendly trip, more business-related. Tell me; you said you were going to Phobia Remedy's house last night. I haven't been there. What should I expect?"
I stopped walking and gaped. "You're going to Phobia Remedy's house?"
Ashley rushed over to me. "Keep it down! I don't want that being common knowledge. I wouldn't have brought it up if I didn't know you already as a person that works with the Dreamwarden. The Warden of Fear has a personal interest in Sunflower, and it is best that doesn't get around."
My mind raced. Why would Phobia— it hit me then. I had been looking at the wrong pony as my competition. Ashley wasn't the pony I was competing with; she was guarding the pony I was competing with and had been deliberately placed to be able to do so. Sunflower had said that she didn't remember applying to this school, but they gave her a full scholarship. Someone had pulled strings from behind the scenes to get her here. Like me, Sunflower had a unique gift, her odd drawings that she went into a trance to do. I wasn't sure what they meant, but they must be useful to the Dreamwardens somehow. She also had the disposition that the Dreamwardens were looking for—non-threatening.
Ashley gave me a concerned look. "You look like you are deep in thought. What are you thinking about?"
I looked around. There were lots of students walking close by. "I'll tell you when we get back into our rooms. I want to keep it private."
"If you want to keep it private, that might not happen," Ashley replied. "Nightscape should be back, and even if she is probably sleeping right now, she could wake up and overhear."
I considered that for a second. "If I am right in my guess, it won't matter if Nightscape hears. I have a feeling that you and Nightscape have a lot in common. It might just be Meadow and Julie we have to keep things from."
Ashley licked her lips and looked around before turning back towards me. "Are you and Nightscape eyes on Sunflower too?" she asked in a whisper.
That was the final confirmation I needed. I shook my head. "No. I didn't know about Sunflower till just now. Nightscape is eyes on me if you get my drift."
Ashley's eyes widened as she looked at me. She stared for a long moment before she replied. "Oh, fuck. Both you and Sunflower… damn."
"We have to tell Sunflower," I said as I decided in my head. "It's unfair if I know about her and she doesn't know about me."
Ashley bit her lip and nodded. "And Nightscape and I will need to talk, so Nightscape knows there are two of you."
"I don't think we were supposed to know. Do we tell Phobia Remedy?" I asked nervously.
"They will know as soon as any of us go to sleep; we can't hide it from them," Ashley replied. She gave an angry stomp, which made me cringe. "This is my fault. I got careless by asking you that question. I need to be more careful from now on. I just hope that I didn't mess up either of your chances. You both seem to like you would be great… you know. They must have put you two together to see how you do under similar circumstances."
I shook my head. "I have no idea, but we still need to tell Sunflower. It's only right."
"I'll talk to her tonight when we go to—"
"Hey, Becky, wait up!"
Ashley immediately hushed up as Maggie came running over. The unicorn gave the human a brief suspicious look but quickly wiped all expression from her face.
Maggie had been running with her heavy backpack and had to catch her breath after she caught up to us.
"You alright, Maggie?" I asked as I saw her laboring to breathe. "I thought you had class at this hour."
She took a few more breaths before answering. "I'm going to talk to my advisor and the register and get some things changed around. I decided that I want to switch majors."
I raised an eyebrow at her. "You aren't through your first day yet!"
"I know, but after sitting through the Intro to Graphic Design class, I couldn't help but feel my dad was right. There were over sixty people in the class, Becky, just my class—there are others just as big! Too many people in the same field."
"It is the largest major at the school," Ashley commented. "No other major has half as many students. Hi, I'm Ashley, by the way. I share a bathroom with Rebecca."
Maggie held out the palm of her hand to Ashley, and Ashley hoof bumped it. "I'm Maggie. Rebecca and I have been friends for years."
"So, what are you going to major in instead?" I asked. "You aren't dropping out, are you?"
She shook her head. "I don't know, that's why I need to go by my advisor and the register. I figured I could switch to just doing things that are liberal arts core this semester, and either decide on a new major next semester or transfer my core credits I complete to a different college that has other major options."
My ears fell. "I would be disappointed if you went elsewhere, but if that's what you feel you need to do, then you have to do it. It's your future on the line, after all."
She brushed her hair back from her face. "I have time to decide. Anyway, I wanted to catch you and let you know I won't be available until later. I'd say at least eight, just to be safe, but still want to do something. I am going to just go drop off my books, then head to my advisor."
I nodded. "I'll be in the common area around eight, or you can just call me. I figure you'll be on the phone with your parents for a while too. Hurry up and go do what you got to do."
She nodded. "Yeah, that's going to be an uncomfortable conversation, but my dad might take it well. Nice meeting you, Ashley. I'll see ya later, Becky."
And with that, Maggie was on the move again.
I looked at Ashley. "We can talk about important things later. Let's just drop our books off in the room and do our other plans. I'll be heading over to my possible foalsitting job, then giving my parents a call, then coming back to hang out with Maggie."
Ashley nodded. "Understood. Keep safe, Marshmallow. Eyes on you."