She snorts. "Right, whatever. Going to go feed the gossip-zombies. Bye, nerd."

"Can you?" she inquires.

"No. That's what would make it a comedy show."

"I will do without. But I appreciate it."

"You're welcome. I'm afraid I can't sing or dance either, so - I'm really quite terrible at this."

"It's your fault for missing all those extremely comprehensive and well-designed lessons in which they teach teenaged amateurs how to comfort each other in response to delicate highly emotional situations without losing sight of the fact that everyone processes things differently. Why is your attendance so bad?"

"It will serve you right when you get a D in Impromptu Counseling and have to take Remedial Decency. They will walk you through the correct use of 'please' and 'thank you' and 'you're welcome' five thousand times. Then come the standardized tests."

"Oh no, not the standardized tests. Bubble in the correct letter for the action you should take in a situation. Choices between, 'Question a person incessantly' or 'Leave them alone if they seem to want you to' are so difficult, I'm doomed."

"No, no, that's clearly too advanced for you. Skip too many classes and that's what you get."

"Yes, it is, I'm lucky if I pass at all, even with a D. I might have to get a tutor. 'This is how you small talk without being a twit.' Maybe Angela will help."

"Angela? I met her in gym, she wanted to know if I was okay after I got permission to sit out and do yoga and situps. She seems nice."

"She is. We're study buddies, if you're looking for someone who will leave you alone when you want them to, she's a good bet."

"Being bothered by people paying attention to me isn't actually a typical problem for me. Although having to sit out of gym is. I can just about walk without falling over and breaking my nose; running is out of the question."

"That sounds painful. Ow. Have you seen a doctor or something?"

"I meet the diagnostic criteria for a disorder that is basically fancy acronym speak for 'you are really clumsy and we have no earthly clue why'. Since they have no earthly idea why they can't really treat it. I tried a cane in the doctor's office once, and promptly tripped anyway and thwacked a nurse in the face with it, so that idea was abandoned; more significant interventions aren't worth the hassle. I'm fine ninety percent of the time if I don't try to run or climb trees or whatever."

"Makes sense. Sorry that's a problem. Wish I could help, but unfortunately - not omnipotent. Despite notes in high school being some kind of cheat code where everyone wants to talk to you."

"Is there lots of demand, should I start offering to sell mine when I'm caught up enough?"

"Maybe, but I think I'm underselling you if you sell them. It started when someone asked, I gave them notes, and it kind of spiraled from there when their friends read said notes and wanted in. Now I am Earth Science guru and the Notes Man. I mean if you do, go for it, it might get some of them to shoo from me and go to your theoretical better product. I won't complain."

"If I were going to make a business of it I don't know if I'd claim my notes are outright better, but I might preemptively run them through the school copier so they wouldn't have to give them back or avoid spilling beverages."

"... That's a good idea. I should use that. That would be very helpful."

"I don't actually know if they'll let me use the copier. But I know they have one. I was in the office this morning getting my schedule and my map."

"It's a good idea, nonetheless. Thank you for sharing it, I'm borrowing it."

"Well, there goes my ability to corner the market on selling a class's worth of notes for fifty cents."