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Forty-Seven: Psychology Grades †

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"You had sex in an alleyway?!" screeched Johanna, closing the door after her little outburst.

It was Thursday morning now and Johanna had just come back from breakfast. I already went earlier and just needed to reply to my parent's emails telling them the next time I would email back would be when I had my Psychology results. We were getting our Track results Monday. They had been delayed according to Coach Kate.

I rolled my eyes. "God no," I protested. "Don't you think I have a bit more class?" I paused. "It's probably something Ruby would do though."

Despite my botched endeavour at a gag, Johanna raised her eyebrows and crossed her arms over her chest. "I've heard loads of rumours. That's the best one yet."

"We kissed," I mumbled sheepishly, closing my laptop down. "Anyway, how can the college know? It was just Jason and I."

"I think you did more than kiss," she objectified.

I closed my cupboard after fitting my laptop in and sighed dejectedly. "Fine, we made out. Happy now?"

"Sort of," she mused aloud, angling her head to the side in a day-dreaming way.

I scraped my key card along my side table and picked up my russet bag. "I'm going to Psychology now so I'll catch you later, okay? I've got a free in the afternoon so don't be alarmed if I'm here," I articulated, slinging my bag over my shoulder.

"You'd rather be in here alone than with Jason – oh, will he be here, too? Shall I avoid this room in the afternoon?" A smile was hauling the ends of her lips upwards. She was still standing by the door so henceforth, she was blocking my departure.

"I don't know where Jason will be so can I please go?" I asked, gesticulating to the blocked exit. "You know, to Psychology," I prompted.

Johanna said, "Oh!" before shunting out of the way.

I thanked her on my way out before closing the door behind me. I ambled all the way to the Psychology classroom on my own and didn't even talk to anyone as we stood outside. Mr. Gellar gestured for everyone to come in after emerging out into the corridor to trigger our arrival into the classroom and we all began filing in.

Once everyone was sat down and quiet, Mr. Gellar leaned back on his desk, perching on the very edge. He held a stack of papers in his hands which I presumed were the reports and the quiz we had to do. They were in a neat order and he rested the edges on his jean-covered legs. He was quite casual today, I perceived.

"Well, I have marked and graded everyone's work. By next Monday you will have received all of your grades for your different lessons so teachers will come to your rooms and post them under the doors for you so you should all receive them Monday by the end of the academic day. Also, I am quite pleased with most of your reports. The quizzes may need a little work on them, but other than that they're good. I just have a few complaints and I have noted them down on your sheets." He stood up and began to hand them out. "So for now, while I'm handing these out, I would like you all to look at what I've written on the board about your memory and parent's attachments to babies – specifically the mother. Those are the topics we're going to be working on for the next month or so."

He began weaving slowly through the tables as I got my folder out as well as my pencil case and a notepad. At the bottom of what he had scrawled on the board, we also had to write it all down because they were "key statements" apparently.

A few minutes later, the paper plummeted gently onto my desk. I stopped writing for a moment and examined the paper. I thought that I had done quite well – especially on the report. But in the end, I saw that I barely scraped a C on the report and on the quiz I got borderline C. I looked up as Mr. Gellar was pacing in front of me. He pointed back to the paper.

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