Phoebe Stavros was sitting in the third row from the last with her back to the windows. She was used to a seat so far from the front of the classroom, after all, her name was Stavros. You may as well put her at the end, because really, who has a name from T-Z...hardly anyone.

Bored, Phoebe looked around the class room to see students either following the lecture, making an outline, or doing their own thing. Phoebe was tracing her hand and chewing softly on a wad of gum, trying to avoid detection. She couldn't help but blow a few bubbles though, she was so bored!

Then an idea came to her, on the same paper that she had traced her hand with, she began to jot a note. Three words were scratched out at the top of the paper, the farthest that she'd gotten into the days assignments.

With the teachers, back to her, she took the liberty of crumpling her note and throwing it at the head of a student to rows in front of hr.