“Don’t forget, your final essay on Macbeth is due tomorrow,” Mrs. Hale hollered after her 4th period class. The bell had rung, and although they were still physically in her classroom, her seniors had already moved on to lunch.
    Mike walked out to the quad clutching the draft of his Macbeth essay.
    “Lined paper, and especially that which pertains to all things educational, is strictly forbidden at lunch time!”
    Mike looked up and saw Adam Magana standing on their table. “It’s senior year man, put that crap away,” Adam quipped.
    Adam and Mike had been good friends for years, but hard work and school were two things that Adam hated. He wasn’t a loser, but he still thought C’s were good enough, and B’s and A’s meant you were trying too hard.
    Mike was frustrated, and unlike Adam he actually cared about his grades. “Mrs. Hale thinks I’m interpreting the symbols too literally. I don’t understand what the point of writing something is if nobody can understand it.”
    “Right,” Adam replied. “I have no idea what you just said.”
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