Danni was student body president. Her grades were high, she had many musical abilities, she's well-known, and she has a nice personality. However, when her math grades start to slip, her teacher insisted on someone who would be able to help her and keep the whole thing underwrapped. There was only one problem:

That person's name was Rodrick Heffley, and he was the biggest douche bag ever.

Who is Rodrick Heffley, you might ask?

A high school delinquent.

Why was he so good at math?

Nobody knows.

But for whatever reason, he is, and that was the main reason that made him my math tutor. Now you might be wondering, 'Hey, aren't you student council president? Why're you so dumb?' Let me tell you that it was not my fault. Blame my dog for always eating my homework.

And no, I'm not joking.

[ Earlier That Day ]

It was 3:40, five minutes before the dismissal bell rang, and while my math teacher was teaching us something about 11th grade math, I was bored to death.

No, seriously – I thought I was going to die.

Okay, okay, maybe I'm exaggerating. And so what if I'm student council president? It doesn't mean I have to be a nerd, does it? Couldn't the student council president just be president because she just wanted to make her terrible down-the-block school better?

Anyways, yeah. No one was actually paying attention to what Ms. Daniels was saying. The whole class pretty much consisted of people who threw paper airplanes, texted, talked horribly loud during class, threw spit balls at each other (gross), and decided to play football with their textbook. So, needless to say, my math class was filled with a bunch of low-life idiots – no offense.

Then there was that one special group of boys that stood out from the rest. Rodrick Heffley and his crew of high school delinquents were standing on desks and chairs, singing loudly – and terribly – to a rock song. I'd say they sounded like a dying cat, but then that'd be offensive.

To the cat.

The only person in the room listening to what Ms. Daniels was saying was Kevin Freaky Bacon, and the reason why people called him that was because, well, he was freaky. Kevin always carried this black briefcase with him. No one knows exactly why he carries it around or what was inside it, but we all thought it held chewed gum inside.

I had to admit it though – watching Kevin do weird things was both amusing and gross at the same time. It was like watching a horror movie.

I glanced at the clock for the hundredth time in 10 minutes. Just a little more. . .

Suddenly, an object struck the back of my head. I turned around and, to my dismay, saw Rodrick and his friends hooting with laughter like the wild gorillas they were. It turned out the thing they threw at me was a paper ball. Sure, it didn't hurt or anything, but the fact that they had the nerve to throw it at the freakin' student council president pissed me off. So, instead of doing what civilized high schoolers would do, I picked up the paper ball, locked my target on one of the boys, and hurled it with all my might.

My original target was Rodrick because he was the closest, but unfortunately he saw it coming so he leaned over to the right and dodged it effortlessly. Just as I was about to feel down for missing my target, the ball struck Ward, causing the 180-pound kid to fall out of his seat and flop on the ground.

Rodrick stopped laughing and stared at Ward.

James gawked.

Dennis gaped.

And George's mouth was so wide open that you could've fit a whole hamburger inside without the edges touching his lips.

I grinned.

That actually felt really good. To top it all off, the bell rang then and there. Every student immediately stopped what they were doing and rose from their seat before rushing out of the classroom. Just as I was about to do the same, Ms. Daniels made an announcement: "Rodrick and Danni, please meet me after class," she said.

I glanced over at Rodrick and caught his eye. "What did you do?" I mouthed.

He shrugged. "I don't know," he mouthed back. In a matter of minutes, the classroom cleared with the exception of me, Rodrick, and Ms. Daniels.

"So what's up, Bertha?" asked Rodrick as if they were friends.

Said woman ignored him and turned to me instead. "Danni, your math grades are falling. If you keep this up. You're going to have to give up your position as student body president," she announced.

I raised an eyebrow. "My math grades weren't bad the last time I checked. What do I have now?"

". . . A fifty."

I was deadpanned. "What? A fifty?" I exclaimed. "It was an eighty last time!"

Rodrick lost it. He roared with laughter and smacked his hand onto the desk. "That's even lower than my grade!" he exclaimed. "I have a ninety-eight! I, Rodrick Heffley, have a ninety-eight! Well don't I feel smart now?"

My eye twitched. "Ms. Daniels, why's he here?" I asked.

"I'm getting to that, Danni," replied Ms. Daniels. "You see, Rodrick may be lazy, but he's one of the best math students in the school."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait," I interrupted, forgetting my manners for a moment. "You're saying Rodrick has a higher grade than me? Is that even possible?"

The 16-year-old junior grinned. "Apparently, it is. What's wrong, princess? Surprised I can actually pass a class for once?" he taunted.

I rolled my eyes. "Can you please stop being obnoxious for once?"

"Haha, no. Wait, what does obnoxious mean?"

"Look it up in the dictionary!"

"What's a dictionary?"

"You don't know what a dictionary is?"

"No. What is it? Is it a cereal or something?"

"Then look up what it means on the internet!"

"You can do that?"

"OhmygoshIcan'teven—"

Ms. Daniels cleared her throat, signaling us to stop arguing. "Now that you know about your standards in my class, I want to request something from the both of you," she said.

Rodrick and I exchanged glares. "What is it?" we replied in unison.

"I want you, Rodrick, to tutor Danni in math."

Updated: 3/17/12