Sage Whitehead has danced for as long as she could remember--it's always been a passion for her. And when she was given a scholarship to dance at Howard University, she jumps at the chance right away. Besides, it's always been her dream. However, Sa...
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I was honestly dreading going to my Statistics class Monday morning for I already knew how it was going to go. Dr. Moreno was going to lay out our grades on the Statistics quiz, and we were going to review a bit and I still wouldn't understand a thing. After the weekend went by so well, and I thought I would be able to just ignore my failing grade and move forward, but it was clear that I couldn't. In hopes of getting their early so I could grab my score before anyone else could see it, I found myself leaving my dorm at an earlier time. Claire, once again, wasn't there when I left due to her seminar in the morning. The weather wasn't necessarily getting chillier, but the September air lacked the usual humid harshness that it usually had. I guess I enjoyed this better--I was more of a person who enjoyed the colder months anyway.
After our tight win against the Panthers in Virginia, Howard University has been the epitome of patriotism in a sense. You couldn't turn a corner without seeing people in Bison gear, the Bison side of Twitter has been pretty ruthless when it came to Panther's feelings on Twitter. I thought it was extremely funny seeing the rivalry brew. Going into the game, Panthers weren't necessary a rival--just a top contender that we had to beat. But now, based on all the shit we've been talking, it was clear that the next time we saw them on the court, we had to come just as hard.
On top of us winning, the Bisonette half time performance has also been the talk of the school. Recordings have been floating around Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter--and one of our stands even made it to the illustrious BallerAlert Instagram page. With me being the center of the half time routine, it wasn't weird that people were coming up and praising our performance. I didn't think that I would have gained that much recognition in the first place, but I couldn't say that I was mad I got it.
I entered into the chilly Statistics room. Thankfully, at the time that I left, I was greeted with not too many people in the classroom. Just as I had suspected, Dr. Moreno had left a line of papers on her desk with grades on them. I bit my lip, deciding whether or not I wanted to grab my paper now, or wait till the end of class. Waiting until the end of class would most likely bring attention to myself, so it was probably smarted for me to just go ahead and grab the paper now. Sighing, I slung my book bag over my shoulder, grabbing onto one of the straps and walked over to the table. My eyes scanned the plenty of grades and sure, some of them were bad, but I had a feeling that my grade was definitely the lowest in the class.
Finally, I spotted my paper and just as instantly as my hand reached to grab mine, a tattooed hand grabbed the paper right next to it. Looking up, I realized that it was none other than Sonny. Almost unintentionally, we found ourselves glancing at each others grades. His grade--was a one hundred. He sucked in his breath, most likely at my grade, and I found myself looking at him and then rolling my eyes.
I pushed past him and made my way to my designated spot near the back in the room. After seeing my grade like this, I had to pay attention in this class or I was going to be forced to spend damn near four thousand dollars retaking the class this summer. I went as far as to powering off my phone to stop myself from getting bored and scrolling through Instagram.
