  okay. so i'm trying to not gloat. actually,  i take that back:  HELL SHIT YEAH i'm going to gloat!  :
 baby made a hundred and ten for the math's test!  boo wop seven hundred and fifty two hours at barnes and nobles poring over algebratic formulas that make bloody no sense at all actually pays off once in a while.  " you're really killing it,  girl,  and so the bitches in my class that stare me down with their textbooks and the condescending fuckers with their apparatus can go kiss my yellow (
slightly tanned)  butt because who's the asian chick,  the only one to make a hundred without extra credit on the exam?  huh?  huh?  *
insert evil laugh*  : P BOOYAH!  -  " well done,
 he writes on my carefully drafted somewhat intellectual garbage i spew and write for about fifteen pages long on the comparison between greek style performance demands versus shakespeare. i write till my hands are tired,  sweat pouring from my forehead because this is important and i'm nervous as hell at trying to remember all the specific points,  honing on non- existing photographic memory to try and remember all them spider crawls and colorful charts i've drawn up the week before and analyze many,  many nights and afternoon before.
 i look around and there are only three people left from the twenty " elites"  and i think,  oh shit.  oh shit.  oh shit.
 twenty minutes left on the clock;  adrenaline pumps in and i go into crazy mode where it is my mind versus my heart that says,  you're sucking ass in this shit.  you know nothing of what you write about.  you are horrible,  you are stupid,
 you are useless.  his jolly exterior and eyes that glint pass out the papers.  comes to me and says,  " so you think the dimple can save you from anything huh?  i smile.
 unsure.  ( is that good or bad?  the papers are folded,  the grade is on the back sheet.  my fingers shake and i think about how i'm going to go home a hopeless reject and how i'm god's worst creation on earth and step out of class to finally read my dictation.
 97 and a well done.  say what?  97 and a well done.  -  she aces both papers.  she gleams.
 she did good.  " the best in the class"  she laughs.  -  thank god for days like this.
 a failing dying child breathes life again.  a turning point in life,  a decision,  things look up again.  she's found her dreams again. she believes.
