Lisa Simpson locked her bike on the rack outside of her first class of the semester. Springfield Community College had no ivy, no grand traditions, and definitely no prestige. When she was young, she'd hoped to escape the Simpson house the minute she turned eighteen. But Homer had wasted her college fund, and in fact the Simpson family was deep in debt. At the last minute, Marge had convinced Lisa not to sign her name to a crippling student loan and instead take her general education requirements at SCC.

She tried not to be embarrassed to be stuck in Springfield, still living in her childhood room, attending this third-rate community college with most of her old high school classmates. Her only comfort was that thanks the advanced classes she'd taken in high school, she only had two semesters to finish her associate's degree‒and then she would have a much better chance at catching a scholarship to a real university.

She took a few steps away from her bike when the entire rack collapsed.

Lisa couldn't help being late. If she hadn't fished her bike out of the metal heap, it would have been stolen and she would have had to take the bus all semester. She tried to enter inconspicuously from the back.

"I hear a late-comer sneaking in. If you expect the first day of class to be all time-wasting and syllabus reading, you are gravely mistak–"

The professor turned to face her, but stopped mid syllable when he recognized Lisa. Lisa, of course, recognized him.

"AHH! SIDESHOW BOB!"

She clapped her hand to her mouth, horrified. She hadn't meant to scream. The classroom buzzed with apprehension and speculation. Robert Terwilliger's hopeful expression died and he looked at Lisa in something like betrayal. The other students were already googling him. Hands shot into the air.

"Professor, what was prison like?"

"Terrible."

"Did you really try to detonate an atomic bomb?"

"Yes."

"Can I use an older version of the textbook instead?"

"No."

"Does the college know who you are?"

Bob sighed. "Not yet."

The room exploded with the sounds of emails typing. Bob hung his head, defeated. He packed up his briefcase and escaped. Lisa picked up a syllabus that had fallen on the floor. WELCOME TO EVOLUTIONARY BIOLOGY. She recognized some of the required reading as surprisingly modern. She chased after him.

"Bob, wait!"

Bob didn't wait, but Lisa caught up anyway.

"I'm so sorry."

"Lisa Simpson. If not for your brave intervention, I might have gotten away with teaching an introductory science course at the community college. Bravo!"

"The way I reacted was wrong, and totally involuntary! I know you're not the same man who–"

Bob halted to glare furiously at her. She wilted.

"I hope you'll get to stay anyway. I liked your syllabus."

Bob softened, and took the time to really look at Lisa. At eighteen she was still as fresh-faced as her childhood self, but taller than he'd have expected. She seemed self-conscious about it, hunching down to avoid too much attention. He put his hands on her shoulders briefly so she would stand up straight.

"It's been quite a few years since last we met, hasn't it? It might have been wonderful to have you in my class. But I fear the pleasure's been robbed of us both."

He walked away. Lisa fell back into her slump. She felt awful.

"Hold on!"

Lisa dug frantically in her backpack. She caught up to Bob once again.

"I know this won't make up for me outing you today... or in Italy ten years ago... or for the time–"

"Let's speed this up," Bob deadpanned.

"I just finished this. Have you read it?"

Lisa shyly offered him her book: The Master and Margarita. He frowned and put on his glasses so he could inspect the cover.

"Bulgakov, eh? Not yet! It's funny, I've been brushing up on the Russians, too."

He retrieved a thick book from his briefcase and handed it to Lisa.

"'Anna Karenina.' Are you trying to tell me something?"

Bob laughed. "Good luck with your studies, Lisa. I won't be terrorizing you any longer."

Lisa watched as he headed towards the parking lot. He looked good for his age–even his graying hair was still springy and lush–but his movements were heavy from years of suffering. Their brief, senseless reunion distracted Lisa for the rest of the day.