Chapter Twenty
I hated homework. Always had.
Before I had started kindergarten, my older sister, Becca, had told me my teacher would give me a homework assignment if she thought I was dumb. And sure enough, at the end of my very first day of school, my teacher, Miss Zeigler, had clasped her hands together cheerfully.
“For homework, I want all of you to go home and practice writing the letter A.”
I’d promptly stuck out my bottom lip and burst into tears, thinking I was the ultimate epitome of stupid.
Through the years, I’d slowly overcome homework apprehension and had yet to bawl over another class assignment. However, the urge to sob like my old kindergarten self bubbled to the surface the next Tuesday morning when my General Virology professor gleefully doled out eight pages of resea
