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Chapter 6: Classes Begin

Flora gently pushed herself up, careful to not bounce Cynthia too much, and slipped

onto the thin carpeted floor. She silenced the jingling alarm on her phone, which was resting on

her desk, and turned around to help the mouse out of the high bed. Today was the first day of

class, and Flora had set her alarm for 6:30 to give them time to eat breakfast before 8AM

calculus. Cynthia uncurled and sat up, stretching out her brown and white arms as she yawned.

Her tiny pink tongue curled behind her oversized incisors.

"Good morning," Cynthia squeaked cheerfully.

"Good morning," Flora chirped.

She transferred Cynthia to her own bed, and the two of them got dressed, Cynthia

selecting a pink t-shirt and Flora her lacy white midi skirt. Once they had used their respective

bathrooms, Flora transported Cynthia and her things to the cafeteria, where they each had

scrambled eggs and toast and Flora also had a turkey link sausage. When they had eaten, they

proceeded to the math building. They were a bit early arriving, but Flora was anxious to be on

time. There were no classes before them, and the lecture room was empty when they arrived.

Like other lecture rooms at RCV, the seats were arranged with the largest at the back

and smallest at the front. Because of this, the main entrance was always at the back of the room

so that larger animals wouldn't have to navigate around the smaller desks. Unlike the lecture

hall where they had taken their placement exams, this room was a single level with individual

desks instead of long tables. However, like the other hall, the smallest desks had not been set

out. After placing Cynthia on a desk in the third row and near the center of the room, Flora

carefully slipped by the rabbit and squirrel-sized desks to collect one of the mouse-sized desks

from on top of the lecturer's desk at the front of the room.

"Do you want to sit at the front or with me?" Flora asked.

"With you if I won't be in the way," Cynthia returned shyly.

Flora arranged Cynthia's desk on the front left corner of the third-row desk she'd picked.

They were both seated, Flora with pencil and lined notebook at the ready, when the other

students began to filter in. As expected, there were many red foxes, a dozen before Flora

stopped counting to greet Becca.

"Hi Becca!" Flora chirped.

The stoat, wearing one of her customary skirts, this one marigold and above just the

knee, waved and flashed them a friendly smile, "Hi!" She sat at a desk two rows in front of

Flora's as stoats were very diminutive mustelids.

"Hey, it's Flora, isn't it?" a tod's voice sounded behind her and to her left.

Flora turned her head to see who had addressed her: the red tod at the fourth-row desk

just diagonal to hers looked vaguely familiar, but Flora couldn't place him.

"It's Quincy, Izzy's friend," the tod reminded her.

"Oh! H-hi," Flora chirped nervously. "How's Isabelle?"

He shrugged, "She's fine. Is that your new roommate then?" he eyed Cynthia probingly.

Flora nodded perfunctorily. Glancing at Cynthia, she noticed the mouse watching the tod

trepidatiously, and she turned in her seat to put more of her body between the tod and the

mouse, fiery protectiveness leaping in her chest.

The tod offered her a disarming smile, "I'm not here to fight Isabelle's battles for her," he

stated. "But if you'll take my advice, I'd suggest keeping a low profile until she's had time to cool

down. You might not want to be so easily recognized as the vixen with the mouse if you get

what I mean."

"Thank you for your advice," Flora returned sharply, her tone making it clear she wasn't

thankful at all for what she took as an underhanded threat. "Tell Isabelle that nothing she says

will make me abandon my friends!"

The tod shrugged nonchalantly, "I just thought I'd give you fair warning."

Flora turned back toward the front of the room, hot with indignation. Even after she was

no longer her roommate, Isabelle wouldn't let her be! Flora assumed from Quincy's warning that

Isabelle was spreading nasty rumors about her. Who knew how imaginative the vindictive vixen

would be? However, as Flora had stated, nothing Isabelle said would dissuade her from helping

her friend.

Shortly, the professor, a red vixen wearing a charcoal gray, sleeveless crew-neck gown

strode through the door and to the black board at the front. Grabbing a piece of white chalk, she

scrawled Prof. Delafosse. She unslung a black canvas bag from her right shoulder and dropped

it on the front desk with a whump before withdrawing two multisized stacks of paper. She glided

along the right side of the room, dropping appropriately sized stacks on the first students' desks.

"I've printed you a copy of the syllabus, and the second sheet is for my information. Fill it

out, and I'll collect it at the end."

Flora was going to raise her hand to request the papers for Cynthia, but Becca managed

to get the mouse sized papers and pass them back via the muskrat between them. Several of

the smallest desks had been moved to form the new front row, with the help of other students,

as those needing them had entered, though Flora had been too distracted. The information

sheet asked for her name and pronouns as well as where she was from, which classes she was

taking, and what other interests she had. Dr. Delafosse took roll call, and then she began

discussing limits. Flora attentively took notes in her notebook the rest of the class period.

Their organic chemistry class was in a tiered lecture hall similar to the one they'd taken

the placement exam in. This time, they weren't the first students to arrive, but Flora kept an eye

out to help the smallest students get seated. When she sat back down for the third time, she

noticed a mostly black rabbit with a white muzzle eyeing her warily with one sideways-facing

eye from the row in front of hers, several seats to the right. Flora gave them her best friendly

smile. They stiffened, and their eye quickly rotated forward.

"Looks like Pete noticed you again," Cynthia squeaked amusedly. "I saw him glance our

way in calculus too."

"Was he in our class? I didn't see him," Flora murmured embarrassedly.

"Yeah, he was over on the right side of the room in the row in front of us."

Glancing back at the rabbit, Flora saw his blue eye fixed on her once again, but he

quickly looked away when she noticed. Is he especially afraid of me, or is he curious because of

what he's heard? Flora didn't know what rumors might be going around about her, but if Isabelle

was responsible, they wouldn't be good. On the other hand, perhaps he'd noticed her assisting

Cynthia. A little bit of hope sprung up in Flora's heart. Maybe he'll let me talk to him. Even the

tiny chance that she might be able to help the timid rabbit fueled the flame of hope inside her.

Small as it was, it burned with a fierce heat. I have to help if I can!

Flora looked back toward the left side of the room when the motor on the automatic door

whined. A red tod in a wheelchair wheeled himself in and down the gentle ramp to the front of

the room. He wore a claret velvet jacket. Sliding out an extension on the side of the front desk,

he withdrew a silver-gray laptop from the brown faux leather messenger bag in his lap,

connected it to the projector cable, and clicked a few buttons on the projector's control panel.

The white screen began to descend with a mechanical whir, and after a green startup screen,

the computer's desktop appeared. Flora noticed that the background, which appeared to be one

of the buildings on campus, was haphazardly covered with files and directories. The tod clicked

open a presentation, which displayed a title slide reading Organic Chemistry 221-01 and Dr.

Flavio Serrano, Ph.D.

"Buenos días, class. I am your instructor, Dr. Serrano," he introduced himself with a

marked Spanish accent and rolling r. "You're all ready to start sophomore-level Español, no?"

Flora noticed some of the students shifting nervously in their seats and more glancing at

the screen.

Dr. Serrano turned his head to look at the screen behind him and turned back with a

toothy grin, "No? We'll just have to start organic chemistry then! Would someone like to pass out

the syllabi and student information sheets?" His accent was noticeably reduced after the

conclusion of his jest.

Flora raised her hand to volunteer.

The professor gave her a warm smile, "Gracias, señorita. May I get your name?"

Flora stood from her chair, "Flora Mason."

"Thank you, Flora. If you can handle them both, I think everyone should be here by

now."

Flora's seat was near the middle of the second row. She bounded down the left side of

the room to collect the papers and began by distributing them down that side as well. However,

after individually distributing the smaller papers to the students seated on top of the tables in the

first and second rows, she proceeded back up the right side and flashed a friendly smile at Pete

as she bounded past. Unfortunately, it didn't have the intended effect, and the poor rabbit

looked like a statue of terror when she glanced at him after returning to her seat.

After they filled out their information sheets, which were much like those from calculus,

Dr. Serrano went over the syllabus and noted the attached schedule, which included the daily

assigned reading along with quiz and test dates. Flora wasn't able to help collect the student

information sheets because she had to rush Cynthia back to the math building, where the

physics classes were also held. After getting Cynthia settled, she hastened to the biology

building for what was, mercifully, her final class of the day.

The two columns of long tables on the level floor were over half filled by the time she

arrived, but she still had a few minutes before class began. As she was looking for a seat in the

third row, she noticed Pete once again seated on the right end of the second row. Two seats

behind him were open, and Flora had started toward them when she was halted by a chirp from

her left.

"Hey Flora! This seat's available!"

Flora turned to see Moxie waving at her from the third row of the left table column. The

second seat from the middle, between Moxie and a European wildcat, was empty. As much as

she wanted to talk to the rabbit, refusing to sit by Moxie would have been terribly rude. Even if

she was roommates with one of Isabelle's friends and likely considered Isabelle a friend too, the

swift fox had never personally been anything but friendly toward her. Flora took the seat with a

polite smile at the sandy-colored vixen.

"Hi Moxie, how are you?"

Moxie smiled back genially, "Fine. How are things going with your new roommate?"

"Fine," Flora returned tersely.

Moxie's friendly smile withstood Flora's cool reply, "That's good. I knew you must be

good with prey!"

"How are things going with Stella?" Flora asked, feeling a bit guilty about the tone of her

previous reply.

"Great! Stella's really chill when you get to know her. I've been trying to get her to come

to lunch with me to meet you and your friends, but she's worried about Isabelle right now. Erm,

not that anything with Isabelle is your fault," she finished awkwardly.

"Quincy let me know she's been saying bad things about me," Flora returned

uncomfortably. "He didn't say what, but I can imagine."

"I think she's just disappointed about losing her roommate," Moxie replied diplomatically.

"I wouldn't worry about it."

Further conversation between them was cut short by a soft cough. They turned to see

their professor, a red vixen in a black cardigan and charcoal gray skirt, giving them a sharp look

as she stopped by their table to hand out the syllabus and notecards for their information.

Flora's ears turned red hot with mortification. The two were silent the remainder of the class

period, but Flora did steal a few glances at Pete and noticed him looking back more than once.

She needed to try to talk to him.

Thus, when class ended, Flora followed the rabbit. He rounded a corner out of the main

hallway, and Flora turned the corner to find him seated on a maroon-cushioned bench with his

cell phone in hand. Flora quickly slipped down the side hall and sat on the bench beside him.

"Hello! I-"

The rabbit shot off of the bench with a squeal of fear, hared down the hallway, and

disappeared around the corner at the other end. Stunned, Flora stared at the empty end of the

hall where he had vanished. I guess he was just afraid of me. Once again, Flora felt distressed,

sad, and guilty. Was she terrorizing this poor rabbit merely by being in the same classes as

him? She hadn't intentionally scheduled the same sections, of course, but mightn't he feel like

she was stalking him? Maybe I should try not to look at him anymore.

Flora returned to the math building to pick up Cynthia, and then, even though Flora was

still feeling nauseous with guilt, they proceeded to the cafeteria to grab lunch before the noon

rush. Becca and Chester were in biology class at 11AM, but after they'd been eating for about

ten minutes, Rosemary and then Lance joined them.

"How were your classes?" Flora asked the black squirrel.

"I only had intro to modern political theory this morning," Rosemary answered. "My other

classes are all Tuesday and Thursday."

"Cynthia and I only have our writing sections Tuesday and Thursday morning and

organic lab Tuesday afternoon," Flora informed her.

"At least we have Monday, Wednesday, and Friday afternoons to hang out," Rosemary

concluded.

Flora smiled awkwardly, "Um, yeah, we'll definitely hang out whenever we have time, but

we got a load of homework this morning. We need to prepare for lab tomorrow, and I want to at

least get started on the other stuff before I relax."

"Okay, let me know when you have time," Rosemary replied nonchalantly. "It seems like

we can have lunch together, at least, and dinner if you'll have time."

"Of course! Just let us know when," Flora agreed.

They ate silently for a few minutes before Flora spoke again, "Rosemary, can I ask your

advice on something?"

Rosemary blinked at her curiously, "What?"

"It's, um, about the rabbit, Pete," Flora answered embarrassedly.

"What about him?"

"He was in all three of my classes this morning, and I noticed him looking my direction.

But when I tried to talk to him after bio, he screamed and ran."

Rosemary's whiskers twitched amusedly, "Did, hem, did he really?" she managed,

obviously restraining herself from laughing.

Flora nodded miserably, "He was terrified. I just wanted to talk to him. I thought there

might be some way I could help."

Rosemary's features shifted from titillation to discomfort, "I'm sorry to hear that. Perhaps

this is one case where you're not the best person to help."

"I guess not," Flora murmured glumly. "I just wish there was something I could do."

"He's terrified of predators, Flora," Rosemary reminded. "He needs therapy, not for you

to save him."

"If he'd just let Flora talk to him, she could help," Cynthia argued. "No one could be afraid

of Flora if they really knew her!"

"Perhaps not," Rosemary agreed diplomatically. "But fear isn't necessarily rational; in

fact, it often isn't. Also, I think you need to be careful about trying to become some sort of

predator savior, Flora. It's one thing to offer your help to someone in need, but it's another to try

to force your help where it's unwanted or inappropriate."

"I understand," Flora murmured, chastised by Rosemary's assessment of her behavior.

Of course she wasn't the best person to help someone terrified of predators!

"That's not fair!" Cynthia squeaked angrily. "Flora just tries to help who she can!"

"I only said she should be careful that it doesn't become something more than that,"

Rosemary rejoined.

As much as Flora still wished she could help and felt upset about Pete's predicament,

she recognized the logic of Rosemary's warning. She couldn't force her help on Pete, and trying

to do so would only terrorize the rabbit. She couldn't allow her own desire to help outweigh the

harm her advances could cause.

* * *

Tuesday morning after another early breakfast, Flora took Cynthia to her class. Flora

waited in the library, working on her biology reading, until it was time for Cynthia's class to end.

She then helped Cynthia to a mouse-sized study area in the basement of the building before

running upstairs for her own class.

Flora's writing section, which had been assigned rather than chosen, was on the topic of

foxes in Vulpinevan literature. Flora had thought it was an odd topic at best when she'd first

gotten the assignment and, since arriving at the school, could only find it to be blatantly

speciesist. She was conflicted about whether she should protest; however, upon arriving in her

classroom, she found the class was composed entirely of vulpines, at which point the value of

any protest seemed moot.

Yet the class wasn't simply entirely vulpine. As the beginning of class approached and

the final students sat around the uniformly sized rectangle of tables, Flora realized that she was

one of only four students in the class of twenty-five who was some species of fox other than

Vulpes vulpes. The other three were arctic, fennec, and Rüppell's foxes, and the latter two could

have used booster seats as their chin and shoulders respectively barely cleared the top of the

tables. More worryingly, Isabelle and another red vixen, who Flora thought she recognized as

Katrina, arrived and sat across the rectangle from her, eyeing her with hostility.

The professor for the class was an elderly tod with a grizzled muzzle who wore a gray

tweed jacket and circular, brown-rimmed spectacles. He stood from his larger, black mesh office

chair at the front end of the rectangle to close the door as the Roman-numeral analogue clock

on the opposite wall ticked to 9:00.

"This is vulpines in Vulpinevan literature," he drawled in a bored monotone. "Hopefully,

no one here is in the wrong class." He perfunctorily glanced around the room with his amber

eyes.

"I think we have one prey who came here by mistake," Isabelle sniped. "Or maybe it's

my nose deceiving me."

The professor turned his head toward Isabelle and regarded her listlessly before going

on in the same dull tone, "Does anyone have an idea of why we might study the portrayal of

foxes in literature?"

"To help us understand our place in Vulpineva!" Isabelle declared haughtily.

The arctic fox seated at the back side of the rectangle raised her hand, "Because if we

read with the context of when and by whom it was written, we can gain an understanding of the

attitudes held by and about foxes at that time."

No one else offered an answer. The professor reacted to neither with interest, nor did he

seem to want further suggestions.

"Over the course of the semester, we'll be covering novels of different genres and

periods to examine how foxes have been portrayed. We'll examine various archetypes

including," he droned on almost uninterrupted for the remainder of the class.

Sapped by the tod's monotonous voice, Flora tromped out of the room at the end of

class and headed toward the stairs. She halted, barely holding back a groan of frustration, when

Isabelle and Katrina cut in front of her and blocked her way. The larger vixens, who were both a

head taller than Flora, stood shoulder-to-shoulder, eyeing Flora with an imperious malice.

"Where's your snack? Is she in your bag?" Katrina queried snidely.

Flora rolled her eyes but didn't dignify the taunt with a verbal response.

"Maybe you got too hungry and ate her," Katrina went on. "We should let someone know

so that they can get her out if it's not too late."

"Is that what you're saying?" Flora snapped. "That I'm a devious vixen? I thought I was

the one who 'despised' my species, but you're the ones using negative stereotypes."

"You're devious because you pretend to be what you're not!" Isabelle declared irately.

"You put on the façade of prey's vision of the perfect predator, but you're not better than us!

You're worse because you lie and hide who you are!"

"Did you want to say anything else, or can I go get my friend?" Flora growled.

"Don't think we'll let you fool everyone else!" Isabelle snarled. "We'll tell them what

you're really like, and then no one will trust you!"

"My friends trust me. Can I go?"

Isabelle and Katrina stepped to the side but glared daggers at Flora as she walked past.

Flora wasn't able to lay her hackles flat until she was three floors below in the basement.

Flora and Cynthia returned to their room to work on homework, and after lunch with

Rosemary, Chester, Lance, and Becca, they and Lance proceeded to organic chemistry lab.

Most of the class, they went over safety, but toward the end, they were allowed to pick partners

and check the glassware and equipment at their fume hoods. Because the fume hoods needed

to be size-appropriate, Flora was unable to be Cynthia's partner. Cynthia partnered with a star-

nosed mole, and Flora partnered with Lance. The wolverine was quite a bit larger than Flora,

but because there were only four sizes of fume hoods, they were obliged to use the same size.

Since it was sized for the typical red fox, the fume hood was actually a little high for Flora and

more appropriate for Lance. Flora was relieved that Pete was evidently not in her lab section.

"Do you have any plans for the weekend?" Lance queried as they were checking off their

lab inventory.

"I assume we'll have enough homework to keep us busy," Flora replied.

"The student activities fair is Saturday afternoon," Lance noted.

"Is it? We should all plan to go together. I haven't really looked at what clubs RCV has."

"I, uh, I was thinking the two of us could go," Lance returned awkwardly.

"O-oh!" Flora felt her ears getting warm, and she swished her tail nervously. "Well, um, I

think Cynthia will want to go to the fair, so maybe that's not the best time for, um, for that," her

voice trailed off embarrassedly.

"We don't have to if you're not interested," Lance stated.

Flora regarded the wolverine conflictedly, "Um, can I, can I think about it?"

Lance nodded and offered her a reassuring smile, "Sure, take your time, but please let

me know what you decide."

Flora nodded in embarrassed agreement. They finished checking their equipment, and

then it was time for lab to end.

"H-have a good afternoon, Lance."

"You too."

Flora quickly collected her things and crossed the lab to get Cynthia, making awkward

eye contact with Lance once more as she passed him. Lance seemed nice, but Flora wasn't

sure he was her type. For one, he was over twice her size; Flora wasn't sure she was

comfortable with that kind of size difference. On the other hand, what might it feel like to be held

in his muscular arms? Flora blushed again. Maybe we can try going on a date or two. Flora

collected Cynthia, and they returned to their room to finish their homework for tomorrow.