Mittens Has Class

Chapter 20: Most People Like Curling in Laps, Not Just Cats

"You know, the sad part is I took this class because I thought it would be easy." Tiffany sighed as she accompanied Mittens down the hallway after Botany class. "I thought it would just be, like, 'this is a plant and this is a flower and this how you grow this'. I wasn't expecting a forty-question test just about leaves."

Mittens chuckled back, shrugging. "If it makes ya feel better, I's a bit surprised how much there were to it too. I think we's both mistookin'ed 'Botany 101' wif 'Gardening 101'."

"I'm pretty sure I got more than half of my answers wrong." Tiffany groaned. "I couldn't, for the life of me, remember what the heart-shaped or circular leaves were called."

"Cordate and orbicular." Mittens supplied.

"Or ANY of the leaf texture terms, except 'pubescent', 'cause I found that one funny." Tiffany continued on, seeming not to have actually heard Mittens' answer. "I can't believe how many different kinds there even are."

"It's definitely a lots more info than I were expect-a-matin' myself." Mittens agreed. "You really think you did that bad, though?"

"I'd be shocked if I got more than three right, actually." Tiffany sighed, frowning. "I mean, I studied. There was just SOOO MUCH! It's going to suck having to tell my dad that I flunked 'my little plant class', as he calls it."

Mittens frowned. She'd made a point of sitting down with Tiffany a few times the last week or so and getting to know her better. Through those talks, she'd learned that Tiffany's family was very critical of her lack of the same level of intelligence as them. Both parents were well-educated intellectuals that worked with high-end technology. Her father, in particular, was a literal genius with three different degrees. Her two sisters, one older and one younger, were both exceedingly intelligent and motivated. Because of this, she'd become cast in the role of the 'dumb one' in the family. As far as Mittens could tell, only her younger sister ever treated her as anything other than a complete inferior.

Tiffany's father was, easily, the most condescending with his commentary. He belittled everything she did or tried, though usually in a way meant to sound jokingly clever. He never said anything obviously mean, but he reduced all her interests to childish things and dismissed any meaningful accomplishments she earned as nothing. Though Tiffany didn't seem to consciously recognize it as anything more than playful ribbing, Mittens could see the damage a life of being constantly minimalized had done to her.

Embedded in a lot of the things she said were subtle notes that spoke of severe self-image issues and buried depression. The only things she considered herself actually good at was being pretty and being sexual. Mittens felt sure that she learned to use sex to compensate for her perceived limitations and intellectual inferiority to her family, turning herself into nothing more than just a brainless toy for people to use. Something that her supposed 'friends' at school had recognized as a way to easily manipulate her and keep her in a subordinate position.

She'd grown up with the constant re-enforcement from everyone that her only assets were her looks and large breasts, no matter where she was or who she was with. She was only worth something if she put out and she couldn't imagine herself ever being more than that, despite that she'd still managed to make it into college. Of course, she'd only gone to college because her father insisted, despite fully expecting her to just take easy and empty classes to get a pointless degree.

And, since it was what was expected of her, that had been exactly what she'd done. Nearly every class she'd taken, thus far, had been easy ones she didn't need to put any real work into to pass. If she had to take a type of class she knew would be hard, she carefully selected which one she signed up for based on the teacher. That way, she could get through them by getting on her knees and trading a piece of her dignity for a passing grade.