Too scared to go first, Wesley waited. She wanted to go in the middle, not first, not last, just so she wouldn't stand out. But, nervous to go up and write something in front of Professor Bunbury, she kept on trying to drag it out as long as possible,
after her, then I'll go. Oh, wait, here comes another person, I think I'll go after them. Wait, no, guess I'll have to go next...
Unfortunately, she waited so long that it appeared she was the last one.
Wesley didn't want to be the last person. She didn't want to have everyone watching her. A part of her considered just not going, but that would probably make the teacher mad. Something she did NOT want to happen.
So, at last, sweating and pale white, Wesley scurried over to the chalkboard, and tried to think of something to say. Deep anxiety twisted her stomach as she saw all of the ones she was going to use had been done. Now she was just standing there looking like an absolute fool.
Everybody's looking at me. But I can't think of anything to write. If I go back to my seat, they'll all laugh. They'll hate me. I don't want them to hate me. Oh- I feel so trapped! Trapped, imprisoned, no way to-THAT'S IT!
Suddenly hit by inspiration, Wesley wrote, chalk scratching on the board,
Quote:
At night the pollinator lands on the white flower and the flower traps it. The bug does the pollinating during the day and then, the next night, flies away from the now pink flower to another white one.
Briefly proofreading what she had written, Wesley bit her lip, hoping it was okay. Quickly walking back, she took her seat and began copying the answers onto her notes. From what it sounded like, she wouldn't have anytime to study them before the final, but maybe if she wrote them down they would stick in her head better.
In the back of her head, she hoped maybe someone would go after her, then she wouldn't have to be the last one.