I arrived at Professor Hargrove’s Advanced European History class fifteen minutes early, laptop bag slung over my shoulder and presentation notes organized in a neat folder. My Renaissance banking presentation was scheduled for first period, and I’d spent the better part of the weekend perfecting every slide, every transition, every carefully researched detail about the Medici family’s financial empire.
The classroom was already half full with students who looked like they’d rather be anywhere else. European History at 8 AM was apparently where Ashwick sent students to suffer for their scheduling crimes. I claimed a seat near the front and pulled out my laptop, connecting to the projector system with practiced efficiency.
“Eager to dazzle us with your scholarship brilliance?” Alexander’s
