never understood dropouts: fucking fail & grin. but now? lizzy sits dumb-struck in her desk; the chalkboard littered with statistics. my teacher stands back-straight, assward before the crowd. he speaks little to none, too busy scribbling shit noone but him understands. i struggle to pay attention. skull clamped. this “F” on every test isnt a choice, shoulder shrug eh okay who wants a c- anyway? rather, my body rejects this shit. i sit in the dean's office trying to explain its all chinese to me. the dean's busy eating a peach, picking pulp from his teeth. not listening to a word i've said, he says oh you'll just have retake it that's all. something, somewhere in me unhinges: even if i retake the class, i wont fucking pass! listen--i'm desperate as. can't even finish the sentence.