Billy shot her a dirty look, but there was no stopping him now: "I mean, Ms. T., when do we need to worry about this stuff? In twenty years? Forty years? You got to be old to get cancer."

Rochelle jumped right out of her chair, her eyes popping and her shaved head all red, and she hollered: "Vecoli, you're a stupid, demented, drooling--"

"That's enough, Rochelle!" Ms. T snapped.

"No, it's not!" Rochelle snapped back.

Ms. T stood there staring at Rochelle and Rochelle stood there glaring at Billy and the rest of the class sat there wondering where this was all going to go . . .

And then that beeping started going again.