hex tidbit 4

Richard passed through the campus quad, exchanging greetings with several students. The spring air filled his nostrils with fresh cut grass, pollen, aerated earth, and faint scents of distanced nature. A stray basketball from a nearby court bounced towards him, breaking his nostalgia. A familiar face raced forward in pursuit.
“Darren,” he passed the basketball to the student.
“Hey there Doctor B. Whassup?” The sweaty athlete replied.
“Just heading to the office. Shouldn’t you be in the study group in the library?”
The student smirked with overconfidence, “Nah man, I good. Hit the books last night!”
Richard frowned in doubt, “I’m good. You’re lucky I’m not your English professor. We’ll see how ready you are this afternoon I suppose…”
Darren gave a calm nod, “…this test won’t be any harder than playing you in B-ball.” Richard was known to pick up the occasional basketball game with the students when his schedule allowed, but his skills and stamina were outclassed by the younger. Darren was a student with average grades, and Richard hoped he would have taken advantage of the pre-exam study session organized by his teacher’s aide Nicole. Darren apparently shrugged it off, as he always does.
“Well Darren you sound pretty sure of yourself. I certainly wouldn’t want to burst your confidence in the classroom, or out here for that matter,” Richard jested. Darren rolled his eyes and excused himself, “Whatever Dr. B. See you in class!” Richard observed the game for a moment, before continuing on his way. He walked into the science building, waving at fellow professors and checking his watch. ‘Good, still time for some lunch. I hope the chicken patties are as good as they smell,’ he thinks. Closing the office door behind him, he stopped in confusion. He had not known the lunch menu, and the school cafeteria was a three building distance from his office. He raised his nose and sniffed again, the faint aroma of cooked chicken lingered. Never before had he been able to smell school lunch from his office. He looked down into the glass cage of his black pet rat, “hey Baxter, time for some food buddy.”
The rat wandered across the cage to Richard’s hand. Standing on hind legs, the rat spoke with impatience, “About time…”