✅1️⃣ | Hypnosis Doesn't Work Like That!

79: I Can Look After Myself

The next interview Adi had to hurry to was with one of the Foundation Year Tutors. It wasn't quite clear what the aim of the purpose of this meeting was. It was a part of the assessment process, allowing the staff of this particular programme to assess whether a student was going to benefit from an extra year of study if they couldn't get good enough grades when they left high school. But unlike the meeting with the academic department staff, this one involved meeting in a park, and seemed to be a lot less formal.

Adi was dreading it as she paced up and down a red gravel path. She knew that when they first met, the tutor was bound to say her name. She might be wetting herself in front of a college administrator who was going to be making important decisions about her future, and that was the one thing that was guaranteed to put her on edge. At least this time, thanks to Britney's new suggestions, she should be able to limit the childlike behaviour she'd found herself exhibiting. She wasn't going to unquestioningly trust every adult around her just because someone had said her name, though that was small enough consolation.

She'd considered asking Brit to trigger her before leaving, as a way to stamp down all those fears and make sure she could perform effectively, whatever form this assessment was going to take. But she wasn't quite there yet; she knew that those suggestions could help her relax, but they also made her wet herself, and that was too high a price to pay. No matter how calming it might be, Adi knew she'd never be happy to hear her baby name. Even when she had a chance to use the bathroom beforehand, it was humiliating to feel her bladder attempting to release in response to someone else's words. That was as far as she would go, and then only in a situation where she had no other choice. She was a rational person, smart enough to accept the advice of her friends, and she could tell that with all the worries about that hypnosis she might need a little help to cope sometimes.

But when she'd managed to clear this trigger from her mind, she was sure, she would have no need for it. Nothing to worry about, and no situation as stressful as university admissions in any case.

"Miss Spenser?" the voice was refined, and gave the impression that every tone and inflection was precisely under the speaker's control. She had a faint hint of a French accent, and when Adi turned to look she saw a woman in her late thirties striding towards her across the gravel, every step deliberate and measured.

"That's me," Adi answered, relieved that this woman hadn't chosen to use her first name. If she could stop worrying then she might be able to get through this interview like a rational adult.

"I'm Professor Firestone, though the title is technicaly an honorary one. You may call me Amidala if you feel more comfortable that way. What should I call you?"

"I don't mind," Adi forced herself to stay calm. She knew it would have been so easy to say something stupid there. "My friends call me 'Adi'. I don't like my full name so much."

"That's fine. I'm one of the tutors responsible for the Foundation Studies programme, and I just wanted to make sure that you fully understand the meaning of a foundation year. And to determine whether it would be the right choice for you. Now, some of the other tutors in my position will be giving these speeches to groups of students, but I felt that I could get a better sense for your abilities speaking one-on-one. I've already heard from Dr Elminster and Professor Rosewood, and I think we should be able to help you."

As she was talking, Adi realised that she was being left behind. She was running to catch up with the Professor, who seemed inclined to walk and talk at the same time in the manner of a tour guide. Adi wanted to ask why she was special, why she would get the sole attention of a professor when there clearly wasn't time for everyone else to do the same. But Firestone was speaking too quickly, rattling off more facts before Adi could get a word in, and by the time she spoke again there were a whole bunch of more pressing questions to act.

Adi found that she still had the confidence from her last meeting, and she was a lot less embarrassed now that she'd managed to avoid wetting her diaper in front of the teacher. But still, she knew she had to give this monologue her first attention, and do everything she could to improve her chances of being admitted to Moistville. This conversation, however it panned out, could possibly be the last step along that path, a safety net in case her exam results weren't up to par. Now, or in the exams, she had to do her best.