Mathlete to Beauty Queen

LOSING THE NERD STATUS

    "I can't do this Camie. I thought I could, but I can't."

 "Literally all you have to do is not study this week," Camie grabs my A.P. Psychology textbook out of my grasp.

"Hey!" I try to snatch it from her, but she holds it behind her back.

She shakes her head, "I will be confiscating this until further notice."

  Today is Monday, which means it's time to jump-start our plan. In translation, I have to flunk out of my advanced placement classes. . . I'm having some difficulty doing so.

"You're a terrible influence," I glare at my best friend.

Camie shrugs her shoulders in response before narrowing her eyes onto something behind me. . . Someone, rather. 

"What is it?"

Camie grabs my arm, pulling me into an empty classroom.

"It's the K&B's," she whispers. 

"Crap," I pull my hoody further over my head.

 Apparently, neither of us thought to see the flaw in getting my hair dyed so soon. I still have to attend school in order to flunk out of my classes, meaning, everyone will see my new hair. 

  Last night, when Camie and I were binging 'Barbie School,' movies, that fact suddenly dawned upon both of us.

"You have to make sure that you keep that thing on," Camie scowls.

I shoot her an annoyed glare, "And what if a teacher asks me to take it off?"

"Then just do what I do," Camie peaks out the door, "Ignore them."

My eyes widen, "But Cami-"

She brings her finger to her lips and moves to leave the room, "No buts Ashlyn, we've got to get to class."

With that, she exits the room, leaving me to contemplate why on earth I'm agreeing to do this.

Waiting a few moments after Camie's departure, I force myself to exit the room. 

As I make my way into my A.P Calculus class, my hands begin to shake, so I force them in my pants pockets. 

"I can do this. Just don't pay attention, don't answer the questions. . . Pretend like you weren't prepared for the pop-quiz."

"Good Morning, Ashlyn," my teacher greets me. 

"Good morning, Mrs. Tate," I mutter before taking a seat, which earns me a confused look from the teacher.

Every morning last week, I would come in, and ask for the following day's assignment. 

When everyone has arrived, Mrs. Tate stands from her desk and begins her lesson. 

"Please open your textbooks to page 10. This should all be familiar, because I know you all paid attention last year, right?" I hear a few groans from the students around me, all except Melissa, of course.  

Having spent three months alone, I did a lot of preparing for my courses. I made sure that I remembered everything I learned last year, as well as the first few things I would learn this year. . . I suppose that was all for nothing. 

Pulling me out of my thoughts, I notice that Mrs. Tate has written an equation on the board.

"Before we begin, I have a little game for you all. This is something I've done will all my classes, and will continue to do for the rest of the year. The first person to tell me the correct answer to this problem is exempt from this Friday's quiz," my teacher lets out a small smirk, now knowing that she has grabbed their attention.