It's a cold December Friday in 1998. First Semester is coming to an end, and your science final worth 80% of your grade is due at the end of next week. Your teacher put everyone in pairs. Your partner? Frank Morrison, a senior whom you're sure is failing most of his classes. You barely had time to process the fact you'd be working with him when the bell rang, interrupting you from your thoughts. With his bag slung over his shoulder, he walked out of the classroom without sparing you a glance.