Go to class. Meet a student with a problem

You've got a bit of time before your first class and you consider spending it trying to decode the note you found in Chanel's room. You decide that you'd rather take your time and do it in private, and instead you head to your classroom to review your notes.

You had agreed to teach some computer science courses as well as perform your duties as Dean. While you're far from a professional teacher, you had some training in the field, and you had taught some courses in the subject while in the military. From what you've seen of the course curriculum, there is nothing that you shouldn't be able to handle.

The morning's class is particularly easy. Called "Introduction to Computer Science" it seems aimed at a high school level at best. You find yourself wondering why the school offers such a basic course to a generation of students who are, or at least should be already adept in the basics. You've already come to the conclusion that academic excellence is not why the wealthy elite send their daughters to Pink Rose, but you resolve to do your best to teach the girls who sign up for your classes.

Just before ten your students start to arrive, most of them chattering as they come in and take their seats. Your attention is drawn to a girl who comes in alone and takes a seat at the back. She's wearing tinted glasses, and when she slumps into her seat she rests her head on one hand as though tired. She's pretty blonde, but unlike most of the other students, she looks like she didn't spend a lot of time on her grooming this morning.

You take attendance and discover the tired blonde is Bethany Adamson, who you learn from your class list is a second year student, and is taking the course for a second time. You're surprised at that, but decide further inquiry can wait for another time.

Most of your students are polite and attentive during your lecture, although you're aware of more than a few speculative glances that you doubt have little to do with the subject matter. Bethany remains motionless at the back of the room, her head propped on her hands, unmoving through the entire class. When it ends she doesn't move, even as other girls gather their stuff and leave the course but remains seated, holding her head.

You wait for the room to empty then quietly walk back to her desk. You can hear her breathing slowly and heavily and it's very clear that she's asleep.

"Miss Adamson," you say, but get no response from the dozing girl. You reach out and shake her shoulder gently and she wakes with a start, looking about in surprise at the empty room.

"Late night last night Miss Adamson?" you ask with a pretense of solicitude.

"Ummmm...yeah...I didn't sleep well. Sorry..." she mutters looking around for her books. You catch a whiff of her breath as she speaks and detect the unmistakeable odor of ****.

"So you decided to get an early start on your drinking?" you ask.

"What? No...no...nothing like that," she answers, trying to say each word clearly.

You pick up her backpack and open it as she makes a little mew of protest. There's nothing in it but books and her purse, but you notice the half full plastic water bottle in a side pocket of the backpack. Unscrewing the lid as she looks on with dismay you take a sniff.

"Vodka. You're a thirsty girl Miss Adamson."

"I don't...someone must've..."

"Don't compound the problem by lying Miss Adamson. You can report to my office immediately. I'll keep the contraband as evidence."

She looks stricken, her chin trembling as she struggles for composure. You walk back to the front of the room, carrying the water bottle of vodka. Placing it on your desk you lean against it and watch Bethany slowly gather her things and put them in her back pack. Her head is down but from the shaking of her shoulders you can see she's crying.