The echoes of the bell signaling the last class of the day at Alexander Hamilton High school had barely died away and Angela Patterson was already on the move towards the Computer Lab. She was the president of the Computer Club and, since Susan Spears parents had been transferred, she was acting as Recording Secretary as well. The club membership was small, only fourteen members, but they were fascinated by the intricacies of computing and could program and repair the devices with the skill of professionals.
Angela had already received a full scholarship in Computer Sciences at MIT next fall and, since she had more than enough credits to graduate, was taking some blow-off courses in her senior year and spent most of her time in the lab. She was a pretty girl with long, dark hair, soft brown eyes, a generous figure and long, shapely legs. She never wore makeup, kept her hair in a bun, favored shapeless drab clothing and wore a back pack. She wanted to be judged by her accomplishments, not her looks.
She wasn't especially comfortable dealing with most girls her age either. They seemed to her to be rather vapid and scatterbrained, chattering and tweeting endlessly on their phones and among themselves about bands, makeup, boys, movies, television, the current fads in social media and clothing.
She was polite when spoken to, yet cultivated no friends other than her fellow club members. Predictably, most of the other students thought of her as a nerd, but were not above asking her for help with their laptops when something went wrong.
She was the darling of the school's faculty both for her GPA and her computer skills, yet she sought no special treatment or recognition, asking only to be left alone to pursue her interests. She sought no attention from the opposite sex either, seeing them as clumsy, rude, immature and tactless.
Most boys ignored her and those that did occasionally ask her out, were politely and summarily rebuffed. She felt more comfortable around members of her own sex anyway, even though most of them were flighty bubbleheads.
Reaching the Computer Lab, she saw that she was alone and breathed a sigh of relief. She set to work on the minutes of the last meeting and quickly finished them. Most of it was taken up with a spirited discussion as to the relative merits of PC OS's and improvements the members felt should be made to them.
She preferred the Apple OS X system while the other members either agreed with her or touted the merits of their own Windows and Linux systems. Things would become somewhat heated, but no one ever stayed angry for long. Saving the minutes to her hard drive, Angela turned her attention to a particularly vexing version of rootkit malware currently affecting parts of the schools computer system.
***
Veronica Warren shifted uncomfortably in her chair outside the office of the Student Advisor, crossing and uncrossing her shapely, muscled legs and fussing with her long, straight blonde hair. Her angelic face was curled in a frown of annoyance at having to miss cheerleading practice so tired old Mister Dempsey could hector her about missing classes or some such nonsense. She was the Captain of the cheerleading squad and therefore should be at practice instead of sitting here in this stuffy room after school was over.
"You may come in now, Miss Warren."
Veronica, 'Ronnie' to her teammates, stood up, smoothed the pleats of her uniform skirt and strutted into old Dempsey's cluttered office, flashing a crimson lipped, white toothed smile. Dempsey, as usual, was shuffling through a sea of papers on his battered desk, looking harried and distracted, graying hair a tangled mess, short sleeved white shirt rumpled and stained striped tie askew. He looked up at her, peering myopically through thick, black framed glasses and said "How are you this afternoon, Miss Warren?" in a reedy voice.
"Just fine, sir," she replied, not feeling fine in the least.
"Please sit down," Ronnie sat. "Now I have been reviewing your academic record preparatory to your graduation in the fall and am quite impressed. A steady 'B' average along with your many student activities is quite an accomplishment."
"Thank you, sir."
"I see you have already secured a full scholarship in Physical Education at Stanford University, well done, well done."
"Thank you, sir."
"Now you're probably wondering why I asked to see you this afternoon ..." Dempsey began, riffling through a sheaf of papers.
'C'mon, c'mon, I gotta get to practice', Ronnie thought impatiently.
"... There seems to be a small discrepancy in the number of credits you need to graduate ..." Dempsey continued.
Ronnie was instantly alert, "Discrepancy? What discrepancy?"
"It appears you are three academic credits shy of the number needed to graduate," Dempsey said, "Therefore you will be required to take an additional class this year."
"Wha ... what sort of class," Ronnie said, stunned at the turn of events.
"Ummm, let me see ..." more paper shuffling. "Most of your classmates have already completed their schedules for the year ... ah, here we are. You have a choice of either Auto Shop, Wood Shop, Computer Assisted Drafting or Computer Lab."
"Huh? That's it? There's nothing else?"
"I'm afraid not. Now which one would you like?"
Ronnie thought frantically, the Shop classes were definitely out, loud, dirty, dangerous, ugh! Computer Assisted Drafting sounded boring. Computer Lab ... hmmm ... she knew a bit about computers. She'd be associating with a bunch of geeks and losers, still ... "I'll take Computer Lab, sir."
"Excellent choice, Miss Warren, I'll sign you up immediately."
"May I go now, sir?"
"Yes, yes, of course, good day, Miss Warren."
Ronnie made a beeline for the practice field, hoping she hadn't missed too much. Maybe this Computer Lab thing wouldn't be so bad. After all, she could always charm some boys into doing her work for her.
***
Angela was already in her seat at the Lab when Ronnie made her grand entrance. She had chosen her outfit carefully to make the best impression. Showing as much skin as was allowed, her hair was carefully combed and was wearing heels high enough to make her butt wiggle. Make up carefully applied, she smiled brightly as she swept into the classroom.
She knew she'd hit the mark by the looks on everyone faces; glazed eyes and open mouths on the boys, frowns and sneering lips on the girls; all except one who stared at her impassively. Ronnie was intrigued at the girls seeming indifference and chose a desk next to her, flouncing into her seat, the hem of her short skirt rising even higher on her shapely thighs. No reaction. How odd.
'What's this Little Princess doing here', Angela thought, cynically. 'Surely she isn't interested in Computers and Information Processing, much less programming languages and system repair. She must be in the wrong room'.
"Good morning everyone," said Mr. Rodman, "We have a new class member today, Miss Veronica Warren, welcome to Computer Lab, Miss Warren."
"It's a pleasure to be here, Mr. Rodman," Ronnie purred, smiling sweetly and batting her mascaraed eyelashes at him. The boys continued to gape and the girls glared. Most everyone in school knew Ronnie or knew of her. She was the most popular girl in her grade with a constant entourage of muscular jocks following her about like so many ducklings after their mother.
