Despite many lectures on the evils of jealously and comparing oneself to her peers, she couldn't deny that she despised her imperfect GPA.

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If she had to listen to one more college admissions counselor—"I see here, Miss Penderwick, that you have had straight A's for all of your education, with the exception of Heath. How can you not get an A in Heath?!"—she was going to scream.

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No one should be given a B- in Health just because they boycotted the sex-ed videos!

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Even her loving father couldn't seem to understand this lack of scholastic enthusiasm—

"Skye, you've always been excited about science. What happened?"

—though she tried time and time again to make him see the light—

"Look, Daddy, ask me to calculate the birth rates of any developing country any day and I'll do it in a heartbeat; Just don't ask me to watch the process."

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In the era of the Super-human High School Student, when 5.0 GPAs were tossed about with utter thoughtlessness, her one B- was a pox on everything—every form she filled in, every interview question she answered.

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And while she knew that it was a statement of her personal beliefs, while she knew she was absolutely right to have stood up for prudishness, she still couldn't help but get mad a the fact that she was the only one of her friends whose academic history wasn't "perfect."

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But what could she say? It was a flaw in the system.