Rachel climbed the stairs of the university’s Behavioral Sciences building to finally arrive at her office on the 6th floor. (And I thought being a grad student would get me some respect,) she thought sarcastically. The corner nook the department liked to call her “office” was hardly 10X10 feet in floor space and crammed with all sorts of books that the regular profs didn’t seem to want. If nothing else, it was comfortable. She had found room for a fouton that served as a couch during appointments and as a bed when she stayed there to chip away at her dissertation. (Ah well, another day, another assistanship dollar.) she mused as she turned on her computer to check her appointment calendar.

As the computer booted she examined her reflection on the screen. Rachel was a pleasant woman, perhaps not a super-model, but she held her own against the “cheerleader” types. Her mother had always bragged about her combination of brains and beauty. Rachel didn’t completely dissagree, either; she had the classic Norweigan features, blonde hair, blue eyes, and a well proportioned body. A bit top heavy, pehaps, but there were worse things. He breasts were quite adequate for turning heads, especially among the under grads, she noticed.

It turned out that she had only one appointment that morning, a counselling session with a student named Christopher. Due to arrive in 15 minutes, she decided to put on some coffee and settle down.

Almost exactly 15 minutes later, a head popped out from behind the door and a timid voice called out “Hello?”

“Hi. Come in and sit down,” Rachel said warmly. “My name’s Rachel, and you must be Chris.”

“Yeah, I’m Chris.” He seemed like a balloon that couldn’t hold any more air without popping. Stress was written all over his face, and Rachel noticed that he had probably stayed up all night last night because of his bloodshot eyes and weary expression.

After the formalities were out of the way, Rachel asked Chris to tell her about himself. Chris was a music major, and sang in the university choir as well as played trumpet in the orchestra. Rachel could see why he was stressed; music majors are well-known for hellacious schedules and long practice/study hours.