The Asian girl

Having a twin sister gave Matt a little bit of an insight into the way girls' brains worked. One thing he'd figured was that girls didn't want to be wrong. Which is why, so often, they all seemed to go for the same creepy jerks. If he picked one of the pretty ones, she'd almost have to reject him because she couldn't know that he was 'safe'. But the Asian girl wasn't likely to be as picky and, more to the point, once the prettier girls saw that any girl saw him as appealing, he'd have a better chance with them.

"Hi, I'm Matt." He claimed the chair next to the Asian girl.

"Cindi." Her voice was a whisper.

"Let me guess. Your parents want you to go to Stanford so you thought you'd get this class taken care of over the summer."

"Do you always apply stereotypes in your pickup lines?"

Oooo. Cindi had some spunk. He'd give her that much. "Yeah, but I'm not very good at it. Any suggestions."

She giggled. "Nope."

"Want to be my lab partner for this class?"

"You any good at science?"

"Nope. But I work hard."

"We Asians respect hard work."

"Stereotype much?"

She giggled again.

The conversation was interrupted by the arrival of the instructor, Dr. Dyle. Dr. Dyle was a tall man in his forties who wore a khaki slacks and a short-sleeved white shirt dress that strained to hold in his pot belly. "All right everyone," Dyle said, "partner up and let's go to the lab benches. You've been assigned a fetal pig. Let's see what you can do with it."

"Why not?" she said. "If you don't keep up your share of the work, though, I'll dump you."

"Got it."