Paper Weights made of Paper

His father wasn't the most observant man but he had noticed that Quinn's homework skills were sleeping with the fishes with how many notices the man received from the school, discussing Quinn's frequent visits to detention. Most of the time, it was because he had procrastinated, not feeling the books, and forgotten about the assignment all together. A few times, it had been because he had broken a rule. Quinn was never bothered, but his father was furious apparently, or at least, Quinn imagined so.

He had received three letters from home from the man ordering him to get his act together or else he would stop sending care packages. Three times Quinn replied with 'yes I will, I promise I will' and twice he had broken that promise. After the third and final letter, Quinn decided to actually act and hit the books. He loathed every moment of it.

With a book in hand, the boy found a rather comfortable chair and tried to curl up with it and study some good old history. However, his eyelids kept drooping and he decided to move onto something more exciting, if there were such a thing. He sidled along the bookcases, scanning through the titles, trying to find something school-relevent and interesting to him. "I don't understand books," Quinn noted to the unfortunate person standing in the same section as him, disregarding the consideration that maybe they needed to get work done instead of chat. "I mean, I can read! I just don't understand the pleasure in books. To me, they are just great big paper weights made out of paper."