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Grades by Rod Drake “How much time left before your final?” Lenny looked up at the college library’s formal and imposing clock. “An hour and a half.” Chris sat down at the study table, overcrowded with opened books, notebooks, hastily scribbled study guides and half-emptied paper coffee cups. “Ah yes, Dr. Hansom’s impassable semester exam. The grade that destroys your chance at grad school. Ready for it?” “No.” “How long have you studied?” “Hours, days, who knows at this point? I’ve lost all track of time and my focus on reality.” Lenny did look exhausted. “But I just have to pass it. Actually, I have to get a B+ or my grad school acceptance goes down the drain along with my future. So no pressure.” “McDonalds is always hiring,” Chris offered tongue-in-cheek. Lenny scratched his unshaven face. “You had this same class last year; how did you pass the final?” Chris smiled at the memory, clasping his hands behind his head and stretching out in the chair. “I pimped my then girlfriend to the good doctor. I passed without studying one bit.” A crazy idea occurred to Lenny then, a wild long shot that showed him just how desperate and irrational he had become. But he didn’t care at this point; the pressure of this test outweighed everything, even common decency. “Do you think there is any possibility you could convince her to help me out with Dr. Hansom’s final the same way?” Chris shrugged. “Don’t know. But it doesn’t really matter. She’s out this semester. Had a baby.”

Date Written: July 17, 2009
Author: Rod Drake
Average Vote: 3.5

07/20/2009 Mr. Pony: Rod, I am slowly beginning to appreciate your penchant for mild irony.
10/12/2009 Master Bates (3): So Lenny has an hour and a half to find a girlfriend or to study? I don't see the problem. Just hire a hooker.
10/29/2009 Mylittlepony (4): I like this guy
10/29/2009 Mylittlepony: I like this guy