Isaac Byrne - Tolerance

DJ Swanson sighed with frustration as he packed up six boxes of pizza tocart it down the dormitorys hall to the garbage. Another attempt at afloor program, another no-show by his residents. Hed really thoughthed get some this timehed even managed to nag a few out of theirrooms and into the hallway, but had somehow lost them in the hundred-oddfeet between the floor lounge and there. Making his way back to hisroom, he could hear them rushing out to steal the bounty of free foodbefore his door even shut.

He settled into his desk, and after a few minutes of frittering awaytime on social media, he got to work on his research project. Hedalready had to abandon his topic twice to satisfy Dr. Restrepono,Melissano, Missy. It was her first semester out of her own PhDprogram, and she wanted to relate to her students, though DJ could neverthink of a professor by their first name no matter how many times sheinsisted she was one of them. The only trouble was that Missy was amean-spirited narcissist whose standard for satisfaction was thateveryone write exactly the way shed have written their paper, andarrive at the same conclusion. Shed lambasted his rough draft of thistopicthis simply will not do shed scrawled across the top, then notbothered explaining why. He respected her, truly; shed accomplishedmuch in her field in a short time, and although her youth and good looksmight make some of his peers see her as less than she was, DJ hopedshed grow into her role as professor.

But for now, she was a chore, and he did his best. Hed put hours ofwork into this, so hed cast the dice and let come what may.

Some time into his revisions, DJ was surprised by a sudden voice behindhim. So are we going to do this or what?

He turned to see the his fellow RA, Emily, silhouetted in the doorway.Hed forgotten to show up for rounds, and shed had to come gethimdoubly irksome since she plainly disliked being his rounds partnerto begin with, but a common schedule made working together this semestera common occurrence. He liked her well enoughshe was a good student, agood RA to her residents, and heaven knows she was more than easy on theeyesbut the feeling was not mutual. She was a triple major with adouble minor, beautiful and brilliant and no-nonsense in everything shedid, and it was clear that fraternizing with the likes of DJ wasnonsense to her.

After a murmured apology, rounds went by in silence. From Emily, anyway;he tried to strike up conversation, but he was nervous talking to girls,especially pretty girls, especially pretty girls who seemed not to likehim. Which was most of them, really. She gave monosyllabic replies asnecessary, and did nothing to further conversation. Like most nights,all was well, and save for a student locked out of her room, the eveningpassed without incident. He finished his essay as best he could, andflicked off the lights.

As he drifted off to sleep that night, it was with an effort that heheld back tears. It had been his birthday, and outside of a handful ofold high school friends saying something on facebook, nobody had said aword. His family hadnt even called, though really, that wasnt unusual.His birth mother had died before he was old enough to remember, and hisfather followed her in a traffic accident when DJ was eight. Hisstep-mother and step-sister had raised him grudgingly, but both had beenhappy to see him shuffle off to college and were never thrilled when hereturned for breaks.

It was pitiful, really, and he could scarcely even blame anyone for nottaking more notice of him. DJ wasnt especially handsome, nor was he agreat student. His grades were the result of elbow grease and a lack ofdistractions by way of a social life. He had hobbies, but none thatwould impress or interest anyone. He was introverted, even shy at times,and had only a few friends here at college. He had an annoying laugh andskin that only a small fortune in skin care products kept from breakingout. DJ was a loser, and everybody knew it. Usually within minutes ofmeeting him. His only real desire was that instead of being treated likeone, he could just get people to be merely civil. Not friendly,necessarilyjust not cruel. To treat him with a modicum of dignity.

Now there are many stories of wishes coming true. Tales with genies,wizardry, or even a merciful god who answers heartfelt prayers.Sometimes they were granted by the blowing out of birthday candles,though DJ had done no such thing today. Still, whatever power motivatedit, that night, his words were heard by someone, and someone with themeans to grant wishes was listening when, just before falling asleep, hewhispered, pleadinglyto no one at allI just wish people wouldtolerate me.

The next day between classes, DJ popped in during Dr. Restreposno,Missysoffice hours, and there she was. Long legs lead up to a slenderbody; a pair of breasts just prominent enough to be unable to avoidnotice were present beneath cascades of curly brown hair halfway downher back. Insisting as ever on trying to fit in, she was dressedcasually as usual, a skirt that ended midway down those divine thighsand a tank top that revealed the lack of bra beneath it for anyone morethan glancing at it.

Hed heard more than one male classmate make crude comments or wolfwhistles; the one time shed overheard it, shed whirled on the offenderand brought the full wrath of the university to bear on him. The boy haddropped the class before the next meeting, and it was said the hellshed raised had almost been enough to get him expelled. DJ guarded thelevel of his gaze carefully, keeping it off the hint of cleavage and onthe bored expression on Missys face.

What can I do for you, Schmidt?

A dozen answers flooded his mind, all of which would have gotten himslapped, and he composed himself. I revised my rough draft.

She held out a hand, and he thrust the papers into it. After a momentsperusal, she rolled her eyes. Didnt I tell you to switch topics?Social medias impacts on political protest movements is just sopassis there anyone who hasnt already weighed in on it? She shookher head deprecatingly. Im just trying to help you out here, Swanson.Scrap this wreck and come back with something fresh. With that, sheunceremoniously dropped the entire essay into the trash can in front ofher.

He tensed with anger. Hey! I worked really hard on that! And thats thethird one I wrote, since you didnt like the first two. Im just takingthis course for creditIm not trying to revolutionize the field. No, Iam not going to re-write it again. He set his jaw firmly, fightingnot to look down at the floor.

Missy seemed to consider a moment. Oh. Well all right then. She bentdown to pick up the essay out of the trash can before she could see thestupefied expression on his face. He couldnt believe she capitulated soeasily. And he couldnt believe what a great look he had down her topwhile she was bending over like this.

And he couldnt believe she caught him staring as she fished out theessay from among the other papers.

The well-built professor rolled her eyes at him, though she looked moreimpatient than offended. Get enough of an eyeful? Still, she remainedbent over, fishing for the essay. It was almost impossible not to atleast glance at the two perky breasts beneath, little bee-sting nipplespointing the way to the floor.

Oh! No, I, uh, DJ stammered.

Finding the last page, she set the essay on her deskstill annoyed, andstill bent over! Well, let me know when you do. She drummed herfingers on her desk impatiently.

His stare was more shock than interestwas she actually posing for him?Hed never gotten such a prolonged look at someones breasts before, theway they rose and lowered with each breath. Over and over. Over, andover. Was she some kind of slut? Exhibitionist? Trying to set him up fora lawsuit?

Up, down

DJ had lost track of how long he stared. A minute? Two? He shookhimself. Sorry Dr. Restrepo. I dont know what came over me. Im SOsorry. He blushed furiously.