When the big exam came, it being the final, Josh and I both aced it with grades of A+, Kevin got an A-, and Ray, who might have failed were it not for our study group, ended up with a B. We were gathered where the grades were posted, our names being hidden for privacy reasons, but we all had secret numbers corresponding to who we were. We discussed how my tutoring session on all the different possible variations of the Hahn-Banach Theorem had been a key part of our success on the exam.
I have an uncanny way of reading professors, and I figured the Hahn-Banach Theorem would play a central role on the final exam. I also knew the professor had a fetish for the dual space of the Hardy space H-1, it being BMO (functions of bounded mean oscillation). I explained my thinking to our study group, and I like to think that’s why the four of us all did so well.
Ray and Kevin, especially, were thrilled with their successes, as were we all, and I proposed a party, just the four of us, to celebrate our collective success. Josh and Kevin wanted to bring their girlfriends, and Kevin suggested I bring Roger, but I said no, let’s just make it the four of us. Ray didn’t have a girlfriend at the time, and I didn’t want him to feel left out, sweetheart that I am. I actually am a bit of an empathetic friend, you know.
We met in my dorm room, and we had French Champagne (since Kevin comes from money), as well as beer, wine, and tequila (with fresh limes, and salt, of course). We also had some weed, and my current favorite, CBD gumdrops from Lord Jones. We were feeling no pain, except for me. I think I had been tense about exam period, or something, since I had stabbing pains in my neck.
Josh said it was probably due to how I had slept, and that he had taken a summer course at Ithaca College where he learned the basics of giving a massage. I lay down on the floor on my stomach, after getting some fancy Santa Maria Novella Cosmetic Vitamin Oil, imported from Italy, that my grandmother gave me when I left for college. I hadn’t used it yet, as it was so fancy I found it intimidating. Josh used it on me happily, though, and he went to work massaging my neck. It felt divine. He asked me to remove my blouse, and since my bra was opaque and covered my boobs even better than my bikini did, there was no real risk, and I quickly removed my blouse. He spread the oil all over my upper body.
I was drunk, stoned, and had eaten too many gum drops (the daily recommenced dose is one), so I was in a silly sort of happy mood and, I suppose, my judgment was impaired.
Josh extended the massage to my shoulders and upper back, and then he wanted to remove my bra, to get “unfettered access.” I stayed silent, and Josh muttered something like “qui tacet consentire videtur,” a Latin phrase meaning he (or she, in my case) who is silent, gives consent. I’m not sure Kevin nor Ray knew that phrase (in Latin, that is), but I sure did. Josh unhooked my bra, and pulled it off.
I lifted my chest a bit from the floor to help him. I was topless, but the guys could only see the sides of my crushed boobs, and besides, we had always been nonsexual in the study group. Always. So, I wasn’t worried. Mostly, I was too high to worry. When I said earlier my judgment was impaired, I wasn’t kidding!