You paid tuition.

You paid the meal plan.

You paid for the dorm room, the apartment, the share of a house.

You paid for the paper.

You paid for the pens.

You paid for the laptop with the extra memory and the juiced processor.

You paid for the books.

You paid for the shirt and logo.

You paid for the coffee in the cup, the latte, the mocha.

. . .
You paid so much to be here, sitting there with the dazed expression, looking out the window, at the other students, doodling in the notebook, surfing the web, imagining a party, past or future, crowded or intimate.

. . .
What’s that?  What did the professor just say about the exam?

Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.