That's The Way I Like It... Not

The first marking period of school had officially ended. The halls filled with the cries of everything from jubilation to desperation as the pupils received their credit due by means of report cards.

Down in the basement, a certain redheaded bookworm of Scandalnavian decent leaned up against her locker, attempting to ignore the commotion around her.

Wide eyes scanned the blue and white page in front of her. It appeared that the Lady had gotten straight 'A's again.

But wait...

The smirk that had been working its way across her face as she stared at the percentage grade in front of her French 'A’ disappeared.

99.4

Where you even aloud to take that much off for lack of class participation?