SLUMP

scene iii

-Three Weeks Later-

For the longest time since high school, Penny hated the number 152. After spending a little over three weeks adjusting to life in her freshman year of college, she learns that one of her professors would be located in Room C152 on the lower floors of the educational institution; her office room was built connected to her lecture hall. A hunch told her that she would hate that class, and her hatred begins to fester when she fails her professor's first assignment.

Standing in front of the door to the class's lecture hall, Penny tentatively knocks, red-marked essay in hand. When she hears the woman inside shout, inviting her inside, Penny steps in. She glides across the large room, making her way to the office on the other side. There, sitting by her desk, grading papers was Mrs. Ainsley. Penny's writing course professor.

The office is quite quaint in Penny's eyes. The wallpaper is lime green and contrasts against the birchwood floor, and pinned by thumbtacks and peeling tape on the walls is an animal-themed calendar flipped on the wrong month, bulletin boards clustered in inked sticky notes, and color-coordinated notecards.

While the middle of the room is centered on the main desk, on the right, there are cubbies overflowing with binders, and on the left, was a stash of opened snack bags and unrecycled, plastic coffee containers. Inadvertently, Penny gulps.

Having lost the urge to go with her original plan and go reckless like some people advised, Penny decides to think rationally, not wanting to disturb the tranquility. "Is this a bad time?"

Her voice is as fragile as glass, and internally, Penny hopes the conversation will fly by quickly.

As if she has just realized she has company, the professor is spooked at the presence of another person, nearly jumping out of her chair. When she sees who it is, Ms. Ainsley relaxes. "Sorry, I must have forgotten I invited a guest in." Forgotten in less than two minutes?

When the atmosphere becomes awkward, the professor gestures Penny to take a seat before it can grow any larger. "How may I help you, Miss Wilson?"

Penny places the essay flat on the professor's desk, the red-inked 'F' the front page doing little but fanning the flames of her anger again. "I want to reevaluate my grade, Professor."

On closer inspection, Penny sees that while weary, she is middle-aged at best with auburn hair and wrinkles, and a habit of pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose. Not wanting to be caught staring, Penny looks away, eyes landing on an image of white-furred and black-furred bunnies on the calendar. For a brief second, she recalls asking for a pet bunny as a child to ease her loneliness, but even pets were forbidden back home.

The professor intertwines her fingers together, no doubt gathering the last of her patience, having gone through this process a multitude of times before. At the sight of the professor's exhaustion, Penny's anger dwindles. Her teacher truly looks stressed.

"Of course you do. Now, I understand your concern over your grade, Miss Wilson, but the crux of the matter is that you missed the point of the assignment. The task was to write a report about how music has impacted our lives for the better, not for the worse." Against her will, Penny's lips curve into a pout. It's not her fault she disagreed with some of the points she found online, thus resulting in the refutes and contradictions she made while writing.

"So, I took some liberties. You have to give me points for creativity on that," Penny quips, but when her English professor levels Penny with an unimpressed glare, Penny concedes. "Fine. Is there anything I can do that can counter that grade?"

Professor Ainsley sighs wearily, no doubt reconsidering all of her life choices, but she thinks until a lightbulb moment strikes her. "Tell you what," she pulls out a stack of multi-colored binders and slips out an assortment of theatrical posters before selecting one to share, "while your executions at some point can be tweaked further, you have merits as a writer. So, there is something you can do for me that might change my mind." She slides the colorful advertisement across the desk, to which Penny picks it and judges it with scrutiny.