I think I might kill Professor Sinistra.
Alright, that's going a bit far, but I don't understand how the woman expects us to write a foot-long essay on Jupiter's moons. I mean, how much is there to write about moons anyway? As I'm sucking on the end of my quill and attempting not to stab my own eyes out, I hear a soft thump behind me. I turn around, startled by the noise, and see her standing against the shelves, a pile of books teetering in her hands. The books are falling from her grasp, one by one, until eventually they all fall onto the floor.
A bell rings in my head. Without knowing what I'm doing or why I'm doing it, I shoot up from my chair and rush to help her. She looks at me with the strangest expression I've ever seen, one of bewilderment and disgust. She probably thinks that I'm going to kick the books around or even throw them across the room like a monkey, but instead I begin to pile them in my arms like the true gentleman I am.
"What are you doing?" she says, barely above a whisper. I look up at her.
"Well, I plan on taking these books and putting them really high up on the shelves where you can't reach them," I say sarcastically. I expect her to make a face or groan in frustration, do anything, but she just stares at me. I stand up and put the books on the table behind us, the one I'm currently using.
"I feel bad about what happened the other day," I tell her. "So I'm helping you in your time of need. It's quite simple, really."
"I don't need your help," she snaps at me. She picks up the pile of books and begins to walk away. I expect her to drop them at any second, seeing as how wobbly they are in her hands, but she makes it around the corner and everything goes quiet again. I look around, trying to figure out what the hell just happened, but my mind is devoid of any coherent thought.
Might as well get back to Jupiter's moons.
