"But Mo-OOMMM!

"No 'buts' about it Quinn," Helen sighed. "Jesus knows that if you had shown any sort of interest in your schoolwork before, we would have given you anything you wanted. And now, when you finally realize that you're in some sort of trouble, and when you really need a tutor - we can't afford one. Your father and I are working overtime to pay for your education, and the budget can't bear any extra expense."

"It doesn't have to be an expensive tutor! What about a cheap one? He doesn't even have to be that smart!"

"No. If you're expelled from Fielding, Quinn, then we'll just enroll you at Lawndale High School."

"Lawndale? Where the townies go? God, Mom, why don't you just enroll me at Carter County High School?"

"Quinn, we have to make choices. It's a fact of life. Your father and I made the choice to send you to Fielding, and to work overtime to pay the bills. You made the choice to slack off academically. And now, you get to make the choice of either working very hard to make up the gaps in your knowledge, or leaving Fielding."

"But don't I get more choices than that?"

"No. That's it, Quinn. If the other girls like you, Quinn, then they'll help you."

Quinn rolled her eyes. "You don't understand anything." And with that, Quinn left Helen's study, knowing that her parents would be of no help.

(* * *)

To: Daria Morgendorffer ()
Fm: Elsie Sloane ()
Subject: Drollery

Q: How many Fielding students does it take to change a light bulb?
A: One. He holds it up and the world rotates around him.

q: How many Grove Hills students does it take to change a light bulb?
A: Two. One to screw in the bulb, the other to kill himself because Fielding did it better.

Q: How many St. Anthony's students does it take to change a light bulb?
A: Eight. One female prof to change it, eight boys to look up her skirt and afterwards, go to confessional.

Q: How many St. Agatha's students does it take to change a light bulb?
A: None. St. Hag's girls are best kept in the dark.

Q: How many Crosswoods students does it take to change a light bulb?
A: One. The old light bulb is made into a bong.

Q: How many Georgian Academy students does it take to change a light bulb?
A: Fifteen. Two grinds who are compelled to change the bulb, the rest to hold an all-night beer bash.

Remember - Grove Hills mixer next month. Some things have to be seen to be believed. C U there?

Els

Daria laughed. She really didn't want to go to that Grove Hills mixer - frankly, she didn't want to spend more time at Fielding than necessary - but Elsie had been working her over. She would rather give up and go to the mixer than be a bitch about it to Elsie. She knew she needed as many friends at Fielding as she could get.

There was a knock on Daria's door. "I must warn you that beyond the portcullis, three stout men lie in wait. Bring your sword, or perish," said Daria.

"Daria?" It was Quinn's tentative voice. "Hey, Daria, can I come in?"

"No."

"Well...I'm coming in anyway!" Quinn opened the door. Daria didn't bother looking away from the computer, but the Cannibal Fragfest screen-saver popped up so that Quinn couldn't read her mail.

"Go away, ginger girl."

"Dah-RIA...can't two sisters just...you know...chat?"

"The last time I heard the story, I was an escaped Russian mail-order bride that adopted the Morgendorffer name and that was living in the basement. I must have done something really special to be upgraded to 'sister'. Either that, or you want something?"

"Daria...I need to know some tricks. Some study tricks."

"Silly rabbit. You think I have a magic wand shoved up my butt?"

No, but it would explain a lot. "Daria, have you read The Odyssey?"

"Yes. It's all about the joys of owning an inexpensive and reliable automobile. You'd love it."

"Ha. Ha. Even I know it's about a bunch of Greek guys. Did...did you have any notes or stuff lying around?"

"Okay. I'm smelling desperation here."

"Daria," Quinn said, giving up. "I...I-need-some-help-OKAY? I'll pay you!"

"For amusement's sake, let's say that one of our teachers at Highland had assigned The Odyssey. For further amusement, let's suppose that I had a stack of notes on The Odyssey. For the after dinner dessert, assume I had ten minutes worth of spare time right now. What makes you suppose that I'd try to help you?"

"Because we're both at Fielding, Daria, and you know what they say about loyalty."

"No. Illuminate me. What do they say about it?"

Quinn didn't have an answer. "C'mon? Please? I'll pay you."

Daria sighed. "Okay. One hundred twenty-five dollars an hour."

"What? I don't have that much money! No one has that kind of money!"

"You hit up Mom, I suppose?"

"Uh-huh."

"Well, that's how much they charge for a tutor at Fielding."

"I don't have that kind of money."

"Then, Quinn...you're screwed. Good luck selling pencils on the corner."

"No wait! I can do something else. Like work?"

"What can you do that's worth one hundred and twenty five dollars an hour that doesn't bring shame and the Carter County Vice Squad to the Morgendorffer home?"

"I can help you with your appearance! That has to be worth something!"

(* * *)

If anyone had been standing outside of Daria's door, they would have noticed a young-red headed woman being shoved out the door and onto the hallway floor, with the door closing rapidly behind her.

(* * *)

Quinn hoped to find either Patty or Sue in their appointed spot - the first floor bathroom in Hayley Hall. Quinn was now getting to the point where she could inhale the smoke without becoming immediately nauseous, and she even had her own cigarette lighter. But first, she had to pee. She really wished that Sue Bentley hadn't kicked the locks in.

As she did her business in the stall, she saw two sets of footsteps. She couldn't see the faces, obviously, but the two were talking.

"Congrats, Meesh. You're so lucky to be a Top," said the first pair of shoes.

"Thanks, Kath. All of the other girls have become super-jealous-bitches." The second pair of penny loafers continued. "You're the only real friend I have here at Fielding. The Tops are so snotty, anyway. I so wish you could be a Top."

"Well, isn't there that other nice girl that everyone's talking about? Quinn Morgendorffer? Isn't she new in Tops?"

"She's charming, I'm sure, but I heard that she won't be here long. They've short-listed her."

Quinn gasped, almost giving herself away. How could they know? I didn't tell anybody!

"How sad!"

"Yes. No point in getting to know her. Besides, I hear that she's common. Oh well, 'here today, gone tomorrow'. Who knows? After they boot Quinn there will be a new Tops list? And maybe the boys will finally shut up about her." The four shoes walked away and the sound of a large door could be heard closing.

Quietly, Quinn opened the bathroom door. Great. Now everyone knows. I'm going to be an outcast!

(* * *)

During Mr. Goodlett's class, Goodlett was true to his word. He asked ten out of twelve students questions on The Odyssey. Even Patty got hit with a question. Quinn was asked nothing. Quinn tried to take notes, but they turned out to be gobbledy-gook, with Quinn discerning no particular aim of Goodlett's discussion.

Reading the book wasn't helping. It was just so god-damned boring. Quinn didn't understand half of what she was reading, and simply gave up. She felt like she was becoming a pariah. Maybe Lawndale is better for me. But I don't want to leave Fielding! she thought.

She shared a few words with Patty Clark. Clark invited Quinn over to stay the night at some point in the month. Each Fielding student could invite someone off campus to stay over once a month, and each off-campus student could stay over one night with a Fielding resident...once a month. Quinn was delighted, but she was looking very carefully for signs that Patty Clark knew about Quinn's academic problems. If Patty Clark did know then she was a practiced liar.

The thought of everyone talking behind Quinn's back was bringing Quinn to despair. It was something that Quinn couldn't confront directly, because by the Laws of High School, she knew that a confrontation would kick the malicious gossip into overdrive. In order to give the impression that nothing bad was happening, Quinn would have to pretend that she didn't have a care in the world, when in fact, she had all the cares in the world.

She walked as if one of the dead, lost to the concerns of the earth.

"Quinn! Oh, Quinn!"

Someone was running behind her. She recognized the heavy steps.

"Oh," Quinn said absent-mindedly. It was Patrick Hackney #7. "Hello, Pat."

"Quinn, very good to see you again, as always. How's Ol' Goodlett?"

Does he know? "Oh! Well, you know Ol' Goodlett. He's very charming."

"Realllly? Well, 'takes all kinds to make a nation'. I could swear that the man was an ass hole. (He said it as two words.) Quinn, just coming back to check up with you on the old yak-hhhhht. Y'know, I think that you'd be very impressed with our poor little boat."

Wait a minute. Didn't Patty say that I'd be the envy of every girl at Fielding if I went on that Pat Hackney's yacht? And...if I did that...then they wouldn't be talking about my short-listing. No, they'd be talking about my cool yacht trip instead. Hah! I'm so...brilliant! Shows you, Daria, how smart I am!

Quinn smiled. "Well...I think it would be very, very...amusing. Pat, do you really think I could ride on your boat?" she asked, laying it on thick.

Any slot-jockey in Las Vegas would have heard the loud bells of the BIG PAYOFF if they had looked into Patrick Hackney's eyes. "Why...absolutely. Absolutely, dear Quinn, absolutely! Dear Quinn, you've made me the happiest fellow on earth! If I have to get a rope and carry the boat on my back, I swear that you will be mi - that we shall soon be sharing the challenges of the sea together."

"Okay," said Quinn. Now that the deal was sealed, she could return to ignoring Pat. "Just send me a text message with the information."

"I will need your addy, oh Quinn. Now I believe that it's Queue-Morgendorffer, am I not right? I've been rather trepidatious in sending you e-mail."

"Fine!" Quinn was getting aggravated. "You can send me e-mail. But I don't want a lot of it."

"I shall be sparing with the words. Definitely. See you." And with that, Hackney seemed to float away.

God, that's a lot to put up with. But I just put out that fire. Now I just have to figure out this stupid class.

(* * *)

Quinn had to seek a place where no Top could possibly find her. If they knew that she was cracking the books, it would confirm what they had already concluded about her academic status, and worse - it would indicate to the Tops that she was worried.

The first choice would obviously be a classroom. Occasionally, one could find an empty classroom that was occupied by a few students as an impromptu study hall between classes. The problem was finding one that wasn't besieged. Quinn decided to choose one at the top floor. If I was looking for somewhere to study, I'd find someplace that was near a ground floor...because I'm lazy. And since brains aren't lazy, they'd choose the top floor.

Quinn soon found the abandoned room she sought. For twenty minutes she sought to keep the armada of characters from The Odyssey in a straight line. There were so many of them. Odysseus. Penelope. Tiresias. Antinious. Telemachus. After twenty minutes, she started doodling, very lonely and bored.

The door suddenly opened and a young female student entered. "Oh. Hello Quinn!"

"Hey," said Quinn. "Let's see...you're...Jill, am I right?"

"Wow. You got it in one. Uh...is this room taken?"

"No. No, I guess not."

"Cool." The twelve-year old put her books down. "I like to study up here. No one comes up here, and I have a class at three. What are you studying?"

Quinn didn't believe that she was asking this. "Look...Jill...did you ever read The Odyssey?"

"No," she said. "I think I read something about the Trojan War once."

Quinn sighed. "Great. Just fucking great."

"What's wrong?" asked Jill.

"NO ONE WILL FUCKING HELP ME, THAT'S WHAT'S WRONG!" Quinn shouted, as Jill almost had a heart attack.

"I'm sorry," said Jill. "Maybe I'd better go," she said, fearing that she had upset Quinn.

"No! Stop! I mean...don't go." Quinn was becoming watery-eyed. "You're one of the few people that's been really nice." The rooster humiliation was still burning in her mind.

Jill seized her opportunity. She grabbed her books, put them down next to Quinn's, and sat in the adjoining chair. "Tell me what's wrong."

Quinn explained it all to Jill. She needed someone to talk to who would understand. By this point, she was beyond caring. She told about her troubles in Goodlett's class, the meeting with Goodlett, getting no help from either Helen or Daria, and the gossip. Wiping her eyes, she was glad to have someone who would actually listen.

Jill listened. "Wow. I'm sorry, Quinn."

"Yeah," said Quinn. "You didn't need my major drama."

"No! I don't mind!" said Jill too quickly. "Hmm. If anyone finds out, I guess you won't be a Top, huh?"

"Well, I'll be the dumbest Top at Fielding. If I survive the semester. Maybe the boys will like someone dumb. I just don't want to be a laughing stock among the girls."

"Okay. Well...I don't know...there is one person who could help you," Jill said. "She's the smartest girl I know at Fielding. I'm sure she could help you pass. Mind you...you'd have to be pretty frigging desperate to get her to help you. And I don't know what she'll do when you ask her."

"Well, I'm absolutely desperate."

Jill was giddy. "Quinn, would you stay over tonight? I mean...I know you only get one visit a month...and you'd be staying with a seventh-grader...but you have to be on campus tonight when we ask. That's the only way we're going to get her alone."

"I'll make it happen." Patty Clark would have to be turned down, unless she could sneak away from Jill.

"Okay. I'll sneak you in. Whiteley Hall. Show up at eight o'clock. I'll let you in. Room 237."