7 - Galatians 6:7

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Make no mistake about this: You can never make a fool out of God. Whatever you plant is what you'll harvest.

It was Sunday morning, and Ms. Okazaki just released the grades for their presentations.

Spencer was dreading checking it — but he did anyways as Damien was preening in the mirror. He wasn't even the one who had to worry about looking put together, but he spent almost twice as long in the mirror.

Shit, that wasn't good. He couldn't remember the last time he had gotten such a low grade. Spencer was an expert in last second bullshitting — he normally didn't fail this badly at it.

"Hey Yates," he pocketed his phone, looking over to Damien, "What'd you get on the presentation?"

"A ninety-one," Damien shrugged, hardly even looking over towards Spencer, "You?"

"Well," Spencer paused.

"Spence, what did you get," Damien deadpanned, raising an eyebrow in Spencer's direction.

"Like a C," he grumbled, "A low C. A low C-minus."

"Oh my God, Spence," Damien finally looked over towards him, "I told you to get it done on time!"

"Technically, I did," Spencer huffed, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Five minutes before class doesn't count."

"Well, it doesn't matter now, because my dad's gonna kill me either way."

"Make it up, talk to Okazaki," Damien reasoned, "She's good with that stuff."

Damien was right, but that didn't mean that Spencer wanted to do it.

"You think I can look her in the eye? I totally fucked that up," Spencer argued, "She's gonna lecture me about how I have so much potential and whatever."

"You do, though."

He didn't need to hear it from Damien too. Damien already got on his nerves enough.

"Yeah, I don't wanna hear it from you, too."

"Well, dude," Damien shrugged, "You've gotta figure out a solution. Or don't. It's kinda your choice."

"Ugh, I know," Spencer grumbled, "I'll figure something out."

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