I might as well go late. What's the worst she could do?

Professor Hensley is a younger prof in the life sciences department. She has a reputation for taking no shit, and I can see why.

The first week of class two students came in a few minutes late, apologizing and saying they hadn't been to this building before. Hensley had made them stand up at the front of the lecture hall and face the students. She handed them a script to read and said they should apologize. One of the students dropped the class the next day.

The course I'm taking with her is human development, or something. I can't remember the exact title, but it's about the normal course of physical changes that the body goes through as humans grow from infancy into adolescence and adulthood. Based on the reading assignment for the week, I'm pretty sure today's lecture is about puberty.

I ready myself for what's to come before I open the door and enter the auditorium. I'm over 30 minutes late. I know I look ridiculous in my too-small clothes, and I know she's going to try to humiliate me, but I'm set on powering through that.

Hopefully, something about her lecture will give me a clue about my own raging hormones and sudden growth spurts. I reach for the door handle, turn it, and enter.