Too much.

I’m scribbling furiously, desperate to catch what Professor Haynes is saying about lipids and membranes, but her voice is washed out by the incessant giggling behind me.

What could possibly be funny about non-polar solvents?

It’s beyond aggravating. I want to be able to learn in peace. I don’t sit with friends, not that I really have any, other than Jackie. And she lives five hundred miles away. If I did have friends, I wouldn’t waste my time by joking around during lectures.

I want to turn around and admonish the peanut gallery. I want to rant about how they’re wasting their time and interfering with my education. I want to tell them to grow up. I want to scream at them to shut up. I don’t. I never will. Instead, I lean in farther and strain to hear Professor Haynes.

I keep my head down, do my work and study my ass off. So far it’s earned me the good grades I’ll need to get into my top choices for med school. If I could get my degree without ever having to come to class, without having to deal with the gigglers, I would.

“And now for the moment you’ve all been anxiously waiting for.” Professor Haynes pauses for effect before pulling a handful of papers out of her bag. “Returning your last exam. Some of you have shown improvement. Others have a lot of work ahead of you if you want to pass the cumulative final. And we had one unprecedented perfect score.”

Oh, God. Please, no.

I know immediately Professor Haynes is going to call my name. When our eyes meet, she’s smiling. I shake my head lightly, my eyes silently pleading with her not to do this. My Jedi mind trick fails.

“Ms. Wilde, well done.” She even gives me a quick applause. No one else claps. Every eye in the lecture hall turns to me. I lean forward in my chair, hang my head low and scribble gibberish in my notebook to avoid drawing any more attention.

Professor Haynes sets my exam down on my desk, a giant red 100% Nice job! clearly visible to the peanut gallery behind me that has now fallen silent.

There’s your silver lining to this shit cloud.

I snatch the exam and shove it haphazardly into my backpack. I’m proud of my grades. I’d happily celebrate them in private. Alone. By myself. I don’t need the sneers. The judgment. The sideways glances and rude comments.

Ass-kisser. Kiss-ass. Kiss-up. Suck-up. Lackey. Flunky. Bootlicker. Goody Two-shoes. Apple-polisher.

I’ve heard them all. My scholastic achievements have never earned me anything other than scorn from my fellow students.

As I’m packing up to make my escape, a guy’s voice calls out from behind me, “Hey, teacher’s pet.” A classic.

I ignore it. A quick getaway is my only desire in life right now.

“Teacher’s pet. Brown-noser.” His words are accompanied by a tapping on the back of my chair this time. I freeze, caught off guard by his proximity.