Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 94155 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 377(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94155 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 377(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
“I’m serious, Mari,” Jessica continues. “Everyone at NYU is smart. They don’t just let in random people off the streets, you know?”
“Trust me, I know.”
I’d worked my ass off in high school to get the grades I needed to get into this school. Even homework-averse Jessica had had to put in some effort to get accepted, though she had relied more on extracurriculars like cheerleading and yearbook committee than her actual grades.
“So that means that all of the papers the professors see are probably fantastic. No one is turning in shitty papers at NYU.”
“Well, I don’t know about that.”
“Okay, true. But you know what I mean. There’s a pretty high caliber of work crossing the professor’s desk every day. You have to do everything you can to stand out.”
“I don’t see how going to office hours is going to make me stand out.”
“Because it gives the professor a chance to know you, obviously. He’s going to give better grades to the students he recognizes. That’s just science.”
I don’t trust Jessica’s definition of science. I know for a fact she has nearly failed every science class she’s ever taken. In fact, the only reason she passed them is because she got a tutor to help her with her homework. And from what she’s told me, he’s helped her with a lot of other things, too.
“That sounds ridiculous.”
“You need the professor to like you. If he likes you, he passes you. It’s just human nature. Didn’t you learn anything at St. Augustine?”
I smile sourly once more.
“I learned never to trust you.”
Jessica laughs. “You might think I’m full of it, but just consider what I’m saying.”
“You are full of it. Everyone gets the grade they deserve, regardless of whether or not the professor likes you. There’s no deep conspiracy here. It’s just a normal class. My paper was B material. Next time, I’ll make sure it’s A material.”
It pains me to say that, but it must be true. If I’d earned an A, I would’ve gotten one. The professor clearly felt my paper deserved a B.
Jessica looks exasperated now.
“Come on, Mari. This is the real world. People are less likely to judge if they actually know you. That’s just how life works. With problem sets in math, yeah, you get the grade you deserve because there’s a specific answer to every question. It’s not as cut and dried with a soft subject like English Lit. Your grade is directly influenced by how much the professor likes you.”
I stare at my best friend. What she’s saying feels wrong, but on some level, it makes sense. I hate that.
Jessica grins. “You’re coming around to my side, aren’t you?”
“I don’t want you to be right.”
“I know, but that’s life, baby. If you want to survive in this academic world, you have to adapt.”
“I don’t want to adapt. I want to earn grades based on the merits of my writing, not based on the professor’s opinion of me.”
Jessica’s face falls in sympathy. “I know, and I’m not saying that getting in with the professor is a guaranteed way of getting good grades. I just think it would help you out a little. What’s wrong with giving it a try? You could go to office hours a few times and see what happens. What’s the worst that can happen?”
“Okay. You’re right. I’ll give it a shot. I don’t like it, but I also don’t want to keep getting B’s on my essays.”
“That’s my girl! You’ll see, it’ll work. How do you think I keep my grades up?”
“You don’t.”
“Well…true. But they’d be way worse than they are if I didn’t take the time to get to know my professors.”
I bite my lip. This feels like cheating. Then again, is it cheating when all of the students have the same opportunity? Office hours are open to everyone, not just me. I’m simply utilizing a resource.
“There’s one more thing,” Jessica says. “You have to dress sexy when you go meet Professor Boynton.”
I gasp. “Absolutely not!”
“Trust me, Mari. This is how the world works.”
“You keep saying that...”
“Because I know it’s true. Dressing hot makes the male professors like you. Ask anyone.”
I don’t need to ask anyone; I know it’s true. I’ve seen the way some professors look at Jessica when she comes to class in a short skirt and low-cut shirt. But that doesn’t make it right.
“Are you sure about this?”
“I’m one-hundred percent sure.”
It sounds so sleazy and superficial, but what if Jessica’s right?
I stare at the big red B still mocking me on the front of my paper. I can’t take another grade like that. It’s far too stressful.
“Okay,” I concede. “I’ll go to office hours dressed a little more like you. But this better be worth it.”
Jessica smiles in response. “It will be. I promise.”
I don’t know what worries me more – that it won’t work, or that it will.