but I was getting by. It required a bit more research on my part, but that was okay.
Toward the end of class, Dr. Sherman set her papers aside, leaned back against her desk, and crossed her arms over her chest.
“As we discussed at the beginning of the semester when I reviewed the syllabus, there is a group component in the requirements of this class. Now that we have sufficient background into the ethics of business, you’re ready to delve into that group project. I will allow you to choose your groups, but be sure to choose wisely. It is a team effort and a team grade.
“Once you’ve put yourselves into groups of four, you’ll peruse the cases I’ve posted online, choose one, and as a group, you’ll tackle the case questions that accompany it. You’ll present your findings during the last week of classes. The format as well as an example are provided for you on Blackboard. Any questions?”
When no one spoke up, Dr. Sherman smiled. “All right. Once you’ve signed up for a case and worked out the logistics of working with your group, you’re free to go.”
Most of the other students jumped up and got into groups with their friends. It all happened quickly, and it fascinated me how people were typically drawn to others like them. It was the most homogeneous grouping process I’d ever seen—not that I’d seen very many.
But then there were the outliers. The wallflowers, the mutes, the geeks, and the rebels who were too cool for group work—sort of like a collegiate Breakfast Club. I let my eyes drift over them for a few seconds before I got up from my seat and approached a pretty girl with thick-framed brown glasses and curly hair. She looked like she’d rather burn her bra than pair up with any of the giggling girls in her vicinity. I had to have her in my group.
“Hi. I’m Brody. Can I be in your group?”
She looked around. “I don’t have a group.”
“Can we start one?”
“Are you in a frat?” she asked.
“Nope.”
“Do you play a sport for the school?”
“Uh-uh.”
“Can you read above a seventh-grade level?”
“Sure can.”
She shrugged. “Looks like we’re starting a group.”
“Sweet. Come on, he’s next,” I said as I pointed at a guy in a button-down shirt and khaki pants. He always participated in discussions, and I’d bet my left nut that he’d already read all the cases. He was looking around anxiously, clearly too shy to approach anyone.
The girl, whose name I hadn’t gotten yet, looked at me curiously but gathered her things and followed me over to him.
“Hey, wanna join our group?” I asked him.
He stood up quickly, almost causing his chair to fall backward. “Me? I mean, yes, uh, yes. Absolutely.”
I extended a hand toward him. “I’m Brody.”
“Toby,” he replied as he took my hand.
“Why didn’t you offer to shake my hand?” Mystery Girl asked me.
“Because you looked like you were seconds away from gutting me where I stood.”
She seemed pleased with this answer. “I’m Aniyah.”
“It’s great to meet you both,” Toby said, smiling wide. “I guess we need to find one more.”
I scanned the room and zeroed in on a guy in the corner who was hunkered down in his seat and appeared to be sleeping. I wasn’t buying it. Granted, I hadn’t seen him take a single note since I’d been in the class, but the guy always handed in his assignments on time, and Dr. Sherman didn’t seem the type to let someone get away with dozing through class. I had a good feeling about him, and I was used to trusting my gut.
“Him.”
Aniyah and Toby looked at where I was pointing. “Really?” Aniyah asked. “Him?”
“Trust me.”
“Yes, because I just love trusting complete strangers,” Aniyah muttered, but she and Toby followed me over to where the guy was sitting.
“Need a group?” I asked him.
He wore a knit beanie that was pulled down almost to his eyebrows, but I could still see some of his shaggy blond hair under it. He opened his eyes and let them rove over our group before sighing deeply in what sounded like defeat. “I guess.”
“Great. I’m Brody, this is Aniyah, and that’s Toby.”
“You can call me Slayer.”
“Nope. That’s not going to work for me,” Aniyah said.
A small smile quirked “Slayer’s” lips before he pressed them back into a firm line. “Dragon?”
Aniyah gave him an annoyed look.
“Warlord?”
Aniyah looked at me. “There’s got to be someone else. Anyone else.”
“Fine, fine, my name’s Xander,” he conceded.
“Welcome to the group,