"You're going to college in Mexico?" I asked Lysander skeptically the day he told me.

He nodded. "Yeah. I'd be their star student."

"Uh-huh," I said with my eyebrows raised. "And why, perhaps, did you choose a school in Mexico?"

"Because the prices were highest there! I heard somewhere that the higher the prices, the better. Or somewhere around that." Lysander chirped excitedly, "Man, I'm gonna get a job!"

Never knew THAT was gonna happen.

And why the heck was he excited for a job? Sure, you get money, but you have to, well, work! I admit some aren't as bad as cleaning bathrooms at Walmart, though. Insert shudder.

I facepalmed. "No, that's not how it works. The higher your SCHOLARSHIP the better, you brainless monkey."

"I heard monkeys are very rare in Mexico! That's why I'd be their star student!" He exclaimed.

I sighed.

"Oh. But I didn't know that about the scholarship..." Lysander's voice faltered.

That I can tell.

"So, what are you going to do about it? Most colleges start next week." I told him.

"Oh, next Tuesday," He shrugged.

"The 18th?" I asked.

"No, the 11th." He said.

"Tomorrow?" I asked incredulously, almost to the point where I was yelling.

"Yeah," He said in a tone that you would typically say 'duh' in, "That's next Tuesday."

"You're going to have to leave for an immediate plane, like, right now if you want to get there on time for your first day!" I rushed him.

"But... I don't wanna go anymore." He whined, "It's too far away."

"Yeah," I agreed, "It is pretty far."

"Can I cancel it?" He asked me like I was the creator of colleges and knew everything about his college.

"Have you gotten your schedule yet?" I asked him.

"Why did you answer my question with another question?" He grumped.

"Look, do you want my help or not?"

"Oh. Yeah. Yes. Right, of course." He nodded. "Yeah, I've got it. It doesn't say anything about recess or anything. Nice to see the college creators have just as much mercy as the high school and middle school ones do."

"And what are you majoring in?" I asked.

"Recess," he said.

"WHAT?" I asked, "You can't!"

"Why can't I?" He asked.

"Your major is basically what you want to be when you graduate! You simply can't be recess!" I yelled.

"Oh. Yeah. Yes, of course, that makes sense. Recess is a crappy thing to be, even if every kid likes me."

I was too busy sighing to yell at him (again) for saying 'yes, of course' again. He needs to stop repeating phrases because it's annoying.

"I want to be a god when I graduate," He said.

"No, you can't do that. It's not an official job!"

"If Donald Trump can be a president, I sure can become a god!"

I sighed. "That doesn't have to do with ANYTHING!"

"Yes, it does!" He argued.

"So what's your first class tomorrow?" I asked changing the subject abruptly, "So maybe we could search that on the school's website, find the teacher, and send her an email."

"That's sexist!" He exclaimed, "It might be a guy! I, personally think guys make better teachers than girls because-"

"Okay, whatever. You can tell me about your elementary-school fishbowl discussions later. Make sure to provide evidence, blah, blah, blah."

He sighed. "Alright, then. But remember, it was in 7th grade, in middle school, not elementary."

The only thing refraining me from beating him up at that moment was, well, nothing. But I have no idea why I didn't beat him up. Probably saving it for the big finale.

"So?" I asked.

"So what?" He asked right back at me.

"What's your first class?" I asked him again, especially annoyed.

"It doesn't say." He said.

"That's impossible! That's the point of a schedule!" I yelled at him. "Where is it?"

"It's not here." He said.

"Do you remember your first class?"

"It didn't say!"

I sighed. "Do you know the school's name?"

"No! It's in Spanish! How do you expect me to know?"

I sighed again. "Then how do you expect to go to school there if you don't understand what anybody says?"

"I know fluent Spanish," He huffed.

Bruh, you just said you didn't know Spanish.

"Say 'hi' in Spanish." I crossed my arms. If he doesn't even know the basics, all hope is lost.

"Bonjour!" He said immediately.

I raised my eyebrows. "You sure?"

"My level of Spanish is too high for you to interpret," He said proudly.

Uh-huh. Yes, right, of course.

"It was blue," he said, referring to the schedule, "And tri-fold."

I facepalmed. "That's what it's called?" He asked. "Oh."

"So what do I do? I don't want to go there."

"If you registered for the place, you should know how to un-enroll," I said.

"Ugh, you're no help."

"Thanks," I said nonchalantly.

And with that, he stood up and left.

"Seeya."
_

Okay, this probably wasn't that interesting. Probbaly just a small episode of something.

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