Hallowed Highland Park halls. Kids are hugging, they're mugging, and they're all excited that there are camera crews around trying to capture their every move. I went to Lake Forest High School, people! I know about camera crews! Hello? Ever seen Ordinary People? Yeah. My high school. No, I wasn't in attendance at that time. Doesn't matter. The infiltration of a camera crew made every single student who attended LFHS after the movie was made completely and totally aware of their surroundings. We always hoped (and prayed) that another movie would be made within our school. We LOVED the idea of a camera being around. We dug it, wholeheartedly. At least, that's the only explanation I can offer for why we, the majority of us, acted like complete and utter MORONS for the duration. I mean, really. When one of the overly muscular seniors is forcing an unfortunate freshman down on all fours on the senior star and shouting, "Lick it, FROSH! LICK IT!" can we really assume that he, the senior, means it? Noooo. He's just looking for the camera. And when a couple of jockstraps nab an unassuming sophomore and toss him into the girl's bathroom with the instructions, "GET US SOME PUSSY, LOSER!", can we really assume that they, the intellect-deprived jockstraps, really mean it? Noooo. They're just looking for the camera!
Sorry. Little bit of personal information there. Do with it what you will.
Allie's in class, and her teacher is informing the class that their presentations are worth a hundred points. We don't know what presentations these might be, but Allie looks pretty damn panicky at this moment. "For some of you," says the teacher, "graduation depends upon this." The teacher goes on to say that she was talking to one counselor about a particular individual. At this point, Morgan enters. He wanders around the room, apparently unaware that a class is being conducted. The teacher says that this particular individual may or may not graduate, depending on this class. We can only assume, since Morgan has entered in such a lazy-ass fashion, that this "particular individual" is Morgan himself.
Morgan goes to talk to the teacher and discovers that he's at about a D+ at this point. Morgan tries to wrangle a little credit from his teacher by presenting a paper that was due on May first. Unfortunately, it's May ninth. Morgan's screwed, and his teacher ain't letting him by.
"It's not like he can't get the credits," says Papa Morgan, talking on the cordless to god-knows-who. Papa Morgan goes on to say something about how "this one shouldn't be the one," but I'm not really sure what he's talking about. Look. Let's face it. Morgan's fucked up in school. And now that college is rearing its ugly (and expensive) head, both Morgan and his parents are going to have to deal with it.