His lips curled back to reveal brown teeth and a tongue slimy like a little serpent. I tried using the serpent as a study trick for remembering the femur. Didn’t work. Got a big fat “F” on the quiz today. With the “C” I got on the pop quiz last week, that rounds me out to a “D”. Back where I started a week ago this time.

There were no teeth, none to speak of anyway. A dismembered fang here, a shard of tooth there. That shit-eating grin. That self-satisfied look of triumph on his face. He licked what appeared to be a dead coackroach from his fingertips, then grinned again.

“You are going to fail. Run head first into the wall and I’m gonna watch and I’m gonna laugh.”

“Shut up,” I said. I couldn’t look at him. I had to look at him. I rubbed my eyes like there was something in them I couldn’t quite dislodge. He tossed back the long, greasy, silver hair from his face and took a big pull off the cheap vodka.

“I told you you couldn’t do it and I was right,” he snarled.
“You’re not right about anything. I am right back where I started a week ago. That’s all. Dr. D says I could start this class today and still get a C.”

“Dr. D doesn’t have brain damage. You do.” He took another pull off the bottle. Vodka cascaded around his nose and mouth. He licked his lips again with his forked tongue.

“Your whole act is pure bullshit,” I said, pulling my books from my bag. “You don’t matter. You’re not real.”

“Oh but I am real you stupid, simple dunce.”

“I have to study.”

“Why bother? Waste of time if you ask me,” he let out a disgusting belch, spitting up vodka onto his chin. “I’ll just wait over here in this corner, maybe listen to some shitty techno music, just to put you in the mood. You’ll come to me when you need to. Pathetic losers like you always do. See you tomorrow, then?”

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