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Always teased for her studious demeanor & dark-framed glasses, the BookWorm spent Friday nights at home next to a silent telephone,
engulfed in homework. As the daughter of a conservative Minneapolis Accounting firm CEO, the BookWorm was in constant drive for a
perfect G.P.A., always trading pleasure for the dream that she would once walk The Halls of Ivy. One day, while walking out of Statistical Thermodynamics class, the BookWorm’s thick black specs fell from her face to the floor, shattering to pieces. Bending to scoop the fragments, her loosely woven pony tail came unclasped, causing her wavy locks to fall. As she stood, every coed was frozen in their
tracks at the natural beauty that had always lied, unnoticed, beneath The BookWorm’s laborious mask.

Next Friday? Sorry, she has plans.

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