Most of the afternoon, Anita spent studying the subject matter from the previous lectures that she had skipped out on, provided to her by one of the "squealers": students, usually girls, in her classes whom she had intimidated into providing her with copies of any notes and handouts together with any notes they had taken. Anita's problem was she was too bright. She already knew most of this semester's material and was actually reading the text books well into next semester.<br/><br/>Only the practical aspects of the course - actually taking photographs - kept her interested.<br/><br/>At three, Scrubby came by with her big Yamaha and Nits jumped on the back, allowing her second and sometime fuck-buddy to give her a lift to the club's hand-out. At five, she rounded the others up and they headed back onto campus, roaring and squealing to a stop around where Mt Testosterone was busy not working on her bike.<br/><br/>"Hey. I take it you're finished?" She walked purposefully over to the machine, giving it an apparently thorough check over, wiggling this, tapping that, even though she had absolutely no idea what she was looking at. "That's great, honey. I'll; see you around." She swung her leg over the bike and slipped the keys into the ignition, then jabbed her foot down onto the kick-start.