"How ya feelin kid"? That was a more typical mom sound so Ifelt better already. "When can I have my arms back" I said with a smile."The Dr didn't want...you bumping into things (glancing down at my chest)and in your drugged state start tearing at them" she said. "He'll be by ina while and we can ask him if you can be released then" she continued."When can I see what's been done" I asked. "We'll ask him that too" shesaid. We small talked for a while, pretty much about nothing. I finallyasked a. But once they started throwing art work instead of numbers at me, my brain fried. Beth was a rotten tutor.I usually got most of my homework done during study hall so I didn't have to worry after practice. Last year, I got the monitor to help with the math crap but this year, I was in one of the unmonitored groups. Which meant they trusted me not ta act uh fool, great, but sucked for my math grade."Why the fuck do we even study this shit!" I groaned one afternoon about a month in."Calculus is. More

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