Work Hard, Play Harder | MYG

Consequences

"This isn't fair," you groan, slumping down into the worn and frayed burgundy chair shoved into the corner of the small office you've been called into.

Professor Sumner eyes you over the rim of his coke-bottle glasses, his thinning hair a bit disheveled like he's been running his fingers through it. The office is small, somewhat cozy, but most definitely too full. Sumner is the kind of instructor that rarely invites students into his office, simply because he's slightly uncomfortable having someone else be so close to his collections of things.

"You should have thought about that before you popped hot on that piss test. When you signed up for this class you were made aware of the class requirements and restrictions. Marijuana might be legal here," he waves a hand in the air, indicating the world outside his office, "but it's still not acceptable when you're on a sports team, it was part of the class requirements to abstain, especially on game days." His chair squeaks as he leans back, fingers tapping out a slight off-beat rhythm on the cracked leather arms.

If eye-rolling were a sport, you'd play that instead of basketball. But as it is, you need this credit to maintain your scholarship. Sports medicine is something you've been passionate about for a very long time. This class piqued your interest as soon as your advisor explained it. It's a lab class based within research. Part of the class is spent collecting data and observing, the other part you are the one being observed. Essentially, half of the class pretends to be an athletic sports team, complete with mock games and practices, and the other half collects data and gains experience in what it would be like to work in the field. After midterms, you swap roles. You thoroughly enjoyed the first half of the semester, collecting data and observing the other students who were being the mock athletes. Now, however, you're finding yourself a little irritated with having to pretend to be a basketball player. The sport was something the class voted on, much to your dismay...you would much rather have done something like volleyball or maybe even tennis.

"Coach," you emphasize Professor Sumner's fake title, "c'mon, you know I need this credit. Isn't there some sort of agreement we can come to? How do I get extra credit for this class? Is that even an option, extra credit for a class like this?" You tug at the hem of the burgundy and gold jersey you're wearing. It's hideous, you think, gaudy and over the top for what's supposed to be a fake sports team. Class, or practice rather, just finished and you really want nothing more than to go home, have a shower, and study for an upcoming anatomy test.

As much as you can grumble about this lab class, and everything it encompasses, you're looking forward to being able to add the research to your portfolio. The 'season' is almost over, meaning the second part of the semester is half over and you're now in the stages of what is being called the semi-finals. Sumner called you into his office to let you know your department head caught wind of the fact you failed your last test, which was the piss test along with the mock game, and they're concerned about how this class is going to impact the rest of your academic career if you fail. It was suggested that maybe you'd be better off dropping this class and picking up a different extra course next term, it would still put you on course to graduate early, but you wouldn't have a failed class maring your grade chart. The Dean was brought up in their conversation apparently, and that got you feeling a little clammy.

"There might be something," Sumner purses his lips and looks up at the ceiling like he's lost in thought.

You lean forward, hands pressing against your knees as you wait for him to continue. "Yeah? I can't fail this class...please." You prompt, trying to sound as meek as possible.

"Probation," he nods, bringing his spectacled eyes back to you, "that's how we do it. You probably won't like it, it'll be a bit of extra work on your part but I think it'll add something nice to the class research. I'll work it out with Dr. Rei, he has a TA that could take on the part of your trainer. Since our class findings directly impact Dr. Rei's lab and their research, I'm sure he'll be thrilled to pass on some of the responsibilities to the TA." Sumner smiles, nodding again. "This might just work. As long as Rei agrees to it, we can treat it like an athlete popping hot on a regular sports team. You'll be benched for the remainder of the semester, but I don't imagine you'll complain too much about that. You also have to promise no more botanical extracurriculars until this class is over. There will still be the same tests and grades, you'll still be expected to put in your best efforts while you go through this training with the TA..." he trails off, snatching up the phone on his desk and dialing an extension. You wait for a moment, barely hearing the line ringing from where you're sitting.