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Bella attends her classes with faultless punctuality, every time. She sits in the second or third row on an aisle in the middle section of seats, in the classes that take place in big auditorium lecture halls like the main section of Bio; she's willing to put herself closer to the professors in smaller classes like OS and of course her flute chair (third; she hasn't been quite ridiculously showoffy enough to climb beyond yet) is assigned. But right now, she is in Bio, learning tidbits about auxin and tropisms that the textbook didn't cover fully. She's running at about one and a half speed, just enough that she can trivially listen to and process the lecture against her memory of the text while also permitting some mind-wandering. She liiiiiikes her cognitive speedup power.
"What don't I? It's just more fun than almost anything else," she says. "Research is definitely my calling."
"So you looooove writing grant proposals, and playing department politics, and doing literature review," says Bella skeptically.
"All right, correction: The list of things I don't like about academia is a lot smaller than the list of things I like, and I don't keep either one of them on hand in case of nosy undergrads."
"Well," says Bella, as they approach the soccer field, "I have a practice. I'll see you later."
After a few days, Bella finds a time when both she and Bridget are available to get together and study. She proposes her own room. (It has a giant bean bag in it and is therefore obviously the best.)
Bridget is swayed by the giant bean bag argument! She shows up with her Biology notebook and a head full of interesting ideas.
Bella doesn't really need to do any studying, between eidetic memory and cognitive speedup; no one is expecting original insight from a freshman and she's not trying to stand out that much. She'll let Bridget steer the study session as much as she can without being conspicuous. (Having a study session at all instead of just hanging out with Bridget recreationally is also to be inconspicuous. It helps a little that Janine's going to be around to witness the "studying".)
Bella gets the door. "Bridget, hi! How are you? Janine, this is Bridget, Bridget, this is my roomie Janine."
"Hi!" says Janine, waving from where she sits cross-legged on her bed.
"I think my first question," says Bridget, "is: who gets the bean bag?"
"I think it's big enough for two or three people as long as we don't care very much about facing in the same direction," says Bella.
"Well, I care about not facing in opposite directions, because that would make conversation awkward," says Bridget.
Bella occupies one-third of the beanbag with no further ado, and opens her biology text on her lap.
"Comfy," she declares.
Bridget does a lot of thinking. One of the real tests of a Class Friend, the things that make the difference between someone who will stay a friend past the end of the class and someone who won't, is whether or not they can keep up.
That makes Bridget's life a whole lot easier.
She becomes increasingly cheerful and animated as the study session continues.