AN: Okay, so finally found another opportunity to sneak onto my mom's computer. To those of you have still stuck with the story even when I was horrible at updating, thank you!

Sloth....

Grant Newman is an idiot. We all know that. So you must be thinking, "What's Bozo doing with in the 7?"

Simple. He was a Bozeo. Get it? Like a cross between Romeo and Bozo? Anyways, he failed every test. He was the modern day example of a sloth. I don't think I've ever seen him open a book.

To him, school was like a game. Make it through one day, and then leave. His sole purpose in life was to play football.

We have to give him credit though. He was the captain of the football team, VIP since the sixth grade, and star player. He was good at what he did. Some people couldn't help but think, too good.

But then the school did a drug test, and we found out he was clean.

Grant's life was set, at least until PSATs came around.

As usual, Grant failed. How do I know this? Well because I'm a little creeper of course. I had been sitting out side in the hall listening to my iPod when I heard yelling.

"What?!" It was Grant and Zach.

"How did you get a 2?" Zach yelled. I peered around the corner, my curiosity getting the better of me.

Zach looked livid, his normally calm face blotchy and red. Grant just looked.... bored.

"Do you know who's hide your dad's gonna skin when he finds out?" Zach barked, a vein popping out in his forehead.

Grant sighed. "Do you think I care?"

Zach took a calming breath. "You wouldn't," he muttered. "It's my hide your dad's gonna be after." That was when I figured out that Zach was Grant's tutor.

"Look Zach," Grant said, placing a beefy hand on Zach's shoulder. "Why is this so important to you?"

Zach sighed. "Cammie thinks of the 6 of us like her family. She wants us to go to the same college. It really hurts her to think that you won't be there with us at Harvard. And when something hurts her," Zach said, looking at Grant, straight in the eye. "It hurts me too. I could honestly care less about you coming to college with us. But Cammie wants the whole gang there.... So I suggest cleaning up your act, and start hitting the books instead of the gym." Zach shrugged Grant's hand off his shoulder and walked away.

He stopped halfway down the hall, and I scurried farther out of sight, thinking he had seen me. Instead he turned around and yelled, "I mean it man! We gotta image to uphold. If you don't keep that image...." he trailed off.

Now Grant really looked scared. Being a part of the 7 was one of the few things that were important to him, besides football.

He ran his hands through his hair and sighed as I scurried away.

Maybe Grant will give up his sloth-like ways after all.

Later that day, as I prowled the deserted hallways of Gallagher Academy, I heard noises coming from the weight room.

Glancing at my watch, I frowned, confused. It was 11:00 at night. No one was supposed to be in the school. I crept toward the door that had been left slightly ajar.

I gasped quietly at what I saw.

It was Grant, working out like there was no tomorrow. I heard him muttering about how he didn't need them, he'd be perfectly fine on his own.

Disappointed, I gently shut the door and walked away, shaking my head.

I had honestly thought Grant would study; try to change his ways, but I was wrong. He was too big of a sloth.

AN: Ok, so I know this was sucky, but I had some difficulty with this one in particular, and I just really wanted to get it out. Please, no flames, and please, review. :)