We were sternly warned to keep our minds on our studies instead of boys. Eva and Emma chimed, "Yes, Mutter!" I echoed with, "Yes Aunty!" We tried to be as convincing as possible.
I was looking forward to attending a coed classroom. It will be a change after my year in Scotland, where we only shared the cafeteria with the boys.
The Billerbeck Secondary School in the eponymous market town was only fifteen minutes away with our bikes. It was an imposing old fashion building. Above its tall front door, the frontispiece was engraved with Billerbeck Gymnasium 1870.
In the hall, we found a large notice board telling us where to find our classrooms. It was basically juniors on the ground floor and seniors on the first floor. I was in the same class as Eva, and we waved for Emma. There were also a couple of supervisors scrutinizing us.
The boys were already there. Those without girlfriends sat with a friend. Hans and Jonas had kept seats next to them for Eva and me. We exchanged chaste pecks on cheeks, as if to make sure that everyone understands who belongs to whom!
Our first teacher of the day entered the classroom, and we stood. He introduced himself as our German literature professor and gave us an evaluation test. After having corrected our papers while we read a few famous poems, he asked. "Who is Marie-Chantal?"
I stood, "Ich bin Marie-Chantal, Herr professor."
"You aren't German, Fräulein?"
"Ich bin Französisch, mein Herr."
"You have scored 4 or a D. Not bad, you haven't failed the test."
I sat with a faint smile. A D wasn't exactly stellar.
He next asked, "Who is Malena?"
"Ich bin Malena, Herr Professor."
"You are German aren't you?"
She nodded.
"4. You will have your parents signing your paper and returning it tomorrow. I have mentioned that you should be punished."
Red face, she slumped back into her seat.
Then he gave our papers to one of the front row boys, who returned them to us. On top of mine, it was written, "A promising grade, Mademoiselle!"
Next was our French professor. She told me I would read famous German authors during her classes. She gave me The Magic Mountain by Thomas Mann.
Lunch followed. We were reunited with Emma and her beau. Eva waved for a few friends to join us. We had one of the largest tables, known as the Rosendahl table, since we were all from Rosendahl.
The afternoon class was a double period of economy. We had another evaluation test. I scored a nice C+.
After that test, I felt a five finger spider exploring my left thigh. It had started with my knee. Very gently it went up. As it reached the hem of my skirt, it moved onto my right thigh. Then it toyed with my skirt when our prof walked the classroom, professing that the law of supply and demand is the basis of economy.
My hand joined the big spider when it went under my skirt and between my thighs.
Mr Economy dropped his ruler.
My spider and my hand froze with the clatter.
Then there was a loud smack! Herr Wirtschaft had smacked his ruler on my desk. He also bellowed, "Hands on your desk, young lady!"
My spider hastily retreated while I had both my hands on my desk with a deep blush.
"Write. 'I was caught with a hand under my skirt while in class.' You will have it signed by your loco parentis and bring it back to our next lesson."
After classes at the bike shed, Hans apologized. 'Its all my fault. I will tell Frau Schubert that it is my fault."
I protested. "Please don't! If you do, I'll be banned from seeing you again!"
As we rode back home, Emma and Eva said. "You are going to receive a super spanking! Aie! Aie! Aie!"
"Yep, it will be the paddle."
"Made by Poppa from fine saddle leather."
"Embossed with a rose, a red rose, a very red rose!"
"For Mama to make sure that your bum is the right color!"
"OH!"
