You pick up your graded papers and are contempt to find each stamped with a red A.

The popular student, Cane, walks over and snatches his papers from the desk, “Damn it, only a sixty.” He murmurs, then peers over at your paper, you stare daggers at him, “Oh baby, you aught to teach me how you do that.” He wraps a hand around your waist and pulls you to his side, showing you his papers.

“Do you tutor, sweetheart?” *He asks, raising his eyebrows in mock suggestion.