"sup."

About this time every semester, when the reality of difficult classes sets in, I am befriended by an athlete boy who doesn't know how to study, or in this case, even take notes. (Note: I am not dogging athletes. I wish I was even ever-so-slightly althletic. All I'm saying is I'm noticing a pattern.)

This semester, it's a football player. For a minute there, he had me fooled. "This kid who doesn't even know me is hitting on me through facebook messages." But then I caught on: this tight-end is making freindly small talk because when the first test rolls around, he'll need a study-buddy. How am I so sure of this? I do the exact same thing.

However, I apparently give off the impression that I know what I'm doing in these classes.

If only they knew the truth...