The cold, empty whiteboard faced a young woman with a red marker, poised to plunge to the shiny surface.
Math was no ordinary challenge, it was a feat that could change a woman's destiny.
Her foe, withered in a tweed jacket, stood behind her calling out her first number problem.
Men looked on from their desks. They were bored but they still managed to smirk a salute to her ass.
Problem after problem she solved, each quicker than the previous. Her eyes twitched from side to side, at once searching for and seeing the answers in her head.
One would think that the men would feel awed or threatened by this female prowess, but they did not. They became bored with staring at her figure and instead switched to digging under their nails or breaking off into conversations among themselves.
The woman only heard her professor and the problems that she knew she could solve. And she solved them all. She was breathless as her heart pounded with her victory.
"Good," said the tweed.
And that was all.
The professor turned his back to her and the graffitied whiteboard.
She had been dismissed.
The woman walked back to her seat, head down, but her heart soared. She had won.
At the back of the classroom, a student ignored his professor and could only be puzzled--dazzled by such an impressive woman. After class, he would have asked her to share a sundae with him, but when he looked into her eyes, he couldn't.
And she wouldn't have said yes.
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