Since I had decided to live the real college experience, I started going to classes that I would have otherwise skipped. Like the one I currently sat in: Werewolf History.
For whatever the reason, maybe because it was history, very few people actually showed up for it. Even I had only attended a handful of times.
Today, the professor seemed to give me special notice. He called on me a few times during class then asked me to stay after.
“You are a cheerleader, aren’t you?” he asked me, when I approached his desk at the front of the room. Everyone else was filing out of the room.
I nodded.
He slid a pile of paperwork across his desk. It was bound with an alligator clip.
“I need you to deliver this to a tardy student,” he said. “She hasn’t been in class for a while. She’s fallen behin
