7:
Kim held her cell phone to her ear as she walked down the hall to Speech. "Uh huh. An A on your Bouillabaisse? That's great! I'm so proud of you! So what's next in class?" She listened for a moment. "Uh, Ron," she said. "I think its pronounced keesh. No, I don't know why they spell it with a Q." She took a quick glance at her watch. "Uh oh. Gotta go now, Ron. Class starts in two." She paused in front of the door. "Love you too. Bye bye." Sticking her cell phone in her pocket, she found her seat and sat down. Bonnie was scowling at her. "What?" Snapped Kim. "What is this time?"
Bonnie folded her arms and sat back. "Nothing!" She said, her head turned toward the window.
Things hadn't gotten any better in the three weeks since college had started. If anything, things had gotten worse. Bonnie liked to hog the bathroom in the morning (Deliberately Kim was sure) and come in way late at night. Her Vanilla scented perfume was strong and thick and, much to Kim's chagrin, she not only wore it everyday, but liked to use it as an air freshener as well. The only thing that seemed to be good about having Bonnie as a roomy was that she was neat. Not super tidy, but she kept her things on her side of the room and off the floor.
Professor Lingo was handing back tests. He gave Kim hers. "Very good, Miss Possible."
"Thanks."
"Oh let me guess!" Bonnie sniped, rolling her eyes toward the ceiling. "A one hundred!"
"Close," Kim twisted her paper. "A ninety-seven." Bonnie snorted.
Professor Lingo handed Junior back his paper without a word. Junior smiled as he picked it up. "Look, Bon-Bon! I'm number one in class! He marked it on my paper in pretty red ink!"
"Uh, Junior," Kim looked at his sheet. "That means you only got one right."
"Oh." Junior's happy face melted. He shrugged and crumpled it. "Oh well."
"Junior, you might want to save that so you can figure out your average at the end of the year."
"Quit bossing him around, Kim!" Bonnie snapped. Junior, however, looked confused.
"What does this mean, your average?" He asked.
"You know," Kim tapped her pencil on the desk as she tilted her head to the side. "Your grade."
Junior still looked confused. "We are being...graded?"
"Of course! This is school!"
"You get grades at school?"
"Junior," said Kim. "Haven't you ever been to school before?"
Junior shrugged. "Eh, I was what they called 'home schooled.' I'm sure it was just like a regular school though. You know, watch some TV, take a nap, order a pizza..."
Kim shook her head. "Let me get this straight. You've never done any schoolwork?"
"Isn't that what teachers do for you?"
"No!" Kim looked shocked. "Junior, how the heck did you get into college?"
"Listening ears, people!" said Professor Lingo suddenly. "We've finished our chapter on Speech Preparation and now it's time to put those skills to the test. A week from today, you'll be required to give your very first speech! One minute in length! And for a special treat, your first topic will be Free Choice! Isn't that exciting? Hooray! Say it with me, Class! Hooray!" There was silence. Professor Lingo cleared his throat. "The rest of class time will be used to think of topic ideas and notes. Write them down neatly in order and give them to me before you leave." He sat back down at his desk.
Fifty-three minutes passed. Kim was still thinking of ideas when students began to stand up and turn in their papers. "Very good. Very good," the Professor mumbled. He smiled as Kim handed him hers. "Ah, what interesting ideas you have, Miss Possible!"
"No big," said Kim modestly. Bonnie glared at her front the door.
"I look forward to your speech especially!"
"Thanks!" As Kim passed Bonnie, the brunette pulled down her bottom eyelid and stuck out her tongue.
"Nyahhhh!"
"Oh, that was super mature, Bonnie."
Junior was still sitting at his desk, still scribbling. Professor Lingo stood above him. "Mr. Junior, may I please have your paper?"
"Just a moment, Mr. Teacher Man! I am not finished with it yet..." The Professor took the sheet away and examined it. On the paper was a doodle of what looked like a stage. Junior (As a crudely drawn stick-figure with a giant top) was standing on it, holding a microphone. There were other little stick figures in front of the stage.
Professor Lingo sighed. "Junior..."
"What?" Junior shrugged. "It is me as an International Pop Sensation!"
"Junior..." Professor Lingo put the paper back down. "I'm beginning to wonder if you even want to pass this class."
"What do you mean, Mr. Teacher Man?"
"You don't pay attention, you don't do the homework, and you never listen to a word I say!" The Teacher admonished.
Junior was hunched back over the drawing. "I think I should add more stars to the sky," he said.
Professor Lingo sighed and went back to his desk. "I give up."
Junior looked up. "What is wrong?"
"You!" Said Professor Lingo. "It's apparent you don't give a flying fig about passing this course! All you want to do is goof off!"
"You act as though that is something bad," said Junior, still drawing.
Professor Lingo continued. "If you don't care, I don't care. I want you to drop out."
Junior dropped his pencil. "You mean, I can't come back to class anymore?"
"That's right."
"No!" Junior cried. He jumped up and rushed to the desk. "Please, Mr. Teacher Man! I want to be in class! I want to be near my Little Bon-Bon!"
"So I've noticed," said Professor Lingo grouchily.
"Please don't make me go!" Junior began to beg. He wrapped himself around the startled Professor. "Please! I will do better! I will learn Speech! Please, please, please..."
"All right!" Professor Lingo untangled himself from Junior's bear-hug. "Tell you what. You do the speech I assigned, and I'll let you stay. If not, I'll drop you from the class."
"Me?" Said Junior, bewilderment on his face. "Make a speech? How?"
"If you had read the text I had assigned, you would know." Professor Lingo stood up and put some papers on his desk into a folder. "I have to go across campus for my next class. Search the internet, read your book. Just remember, it's due in a week."
Junior stood and followed him out into the hall. "Wait, what should I make my speech on?" He called.
"Anything! Just...pick something you're good at!"
Junior leaned against the doorframe. "Something I'm good at," he said to himself. "But what? All I am good at is making myself look handsome!" He smiled. "Yes, I am very good at it. Some Le Goop, a facial scrubby, a nice dark tan..." He stopped, then stood up straight. "That's it!" He cried. "I know what I am going to speechify!"
