Chapter Two: School

The elevator doors open, and we both step out at the same time. I look up at him, and he stares down at me. My neck will soon become tense throughout the day. “See you,” I say, trying to sound okay, normal. But I don’t think it works with him.

“Sure,” he has a fleck of bright blue in his eyes that make his eyes look like aquamarine jewels. Like the jewels pressed into the silver chain necklace that my mother wears on special occasions.

We both head to our individual classes; mine, Algebra 3, and him, English 2.

Down the halls, it’s almost extremely quiet, and I find it uncomfortable. Usually it’s loud, but I guess today is one of those days where it’s just a strange day of coincidence. I feel like I may have been screaming too loud and everyone heard. That’s not really it though.

I walk into class, and everyone is almost dead silent, although there are some giggling together in small groups. Our Teacher, Mr.Forester, looks up quickly, then back down.

Certainly, no one gives me a care whatsoever, which makes me happy. I don’t like standing out too much. It’s a bad thing for someone like me to do something like that. I take my seat in the first row all the way at the right end.

I find it rude but true at the same time to say that Algebra 3 is much too easy for me. I think I’m already up for Calculus. And it is sad for me because in my class--

“I’m not late!”

At the same time the voice yells, the bell goes off. A combination of a rough yell and a clear low tone noise. It then becomes purely silent.

Awkwardly silent. He clears his throat, like he wasn’t the one to yell.

Alex.

I roll my eyes. And it’s because of him, I’m not allowed to finish my own thoughts. But he is the reason as to why I don’t like this class. Because guess who sits behind me? The one that I used as my example of slacker this morning.

Alex.

He slides into his seat, “Seline.”

I turn my head to see him out of the corner of my eye, “What?”

Waiting for a response, I get for about five seconds. “Your hair looks...” he’s looking for a word, “pretty today.”

I turn back around.

“Wait,” I mutter and turn back, “You called me pretty?” I lean into him almost while gripping the back of my seat. I’m too bubbly today, I need to stop.

“Hair... Yo-your hair,” he motions to his own. I nod my head and face forward.

Something’s wrong with me. Yup.

The teacher stands in front of our class, and I know that things will be textbook taught, or at least, so says the glum look on his face. His mouth hangs low, his dark hair seems dull and he has a dead look in his eyes. I feel bad for him, maybe if he’d go and do some more fun things and not be required by law to teach out of the book almost everyday, then he would be much more handsome. “Everyone, please hand forward last nights homework.” I pull mine out from my bag, always in the back end of the leather bag.

I turn around, and try not to give Alex such a sharp look. I’m not sure if what he just said was true or if he was messing with me. I’d like to say that he’s messing with me, but I’ll never really know.

He better have finished the assignment, and I’m only hoping that he didn’t crumple up Demetrius’ work as well. He hands me the ones from behind, all neat and close to perfect, then his on top.

I get a good look at it.

It’s easy to tell that he’s was in a hurry, all of his equations and work are all slanting across the page. The work is fake, only to look like there is actual effort put into this.

Compared to mine, this is chicken scratch. It’s crumpled and wrinkled and the corners are bent.

But he has all the correct answers, so I guess I won’t bug him much for it. He still didn’t do it though, so my opinion doesn’t change on him. Until he actually does turn it in and it is credible looking, I might not think of him so harshly.

I sit for about thirty minutes, and I find all that is being taught review.

It’s a nerdy thing for me to say that I’ve actually read the entire textbook just so that I don’t have to worry about it in class. I actually enjoyed a small portion of it, which I find rather peculiar but...

I pull out an actual book from my bag, one that has small text and big pages. It can be the love of my life.

After about ten more minutes, I’m hitting the climax of the book, and I already start on the homework that is given. While everyone groans at the two and a half pages that are given out, I already finish the first page. I can hear Alex sigh like his life is that miserable.

I feel as if everyone’s misery gives me more power to do well. There’s the temptation to snicker, but then I’d draw some attention.

The bell rings, and right as I get up and walk past Alexs’ seat, he gets up and follows behind me. I’d like to say he’s like a puppy; has to be clingy and reliant on someone.

“You seem to be happier today,” he tells me joyously.

“Like I’m not happy everyday?” I ask.

“Both you and Demetrius never look happy. Or at least, not while you guys are separated. Like you guys want to rip someone's throat out,” He walks next to me. His class is just ahead of mine, fortunately.

Someone’s throat, huh?

“We’re just... Good friends.” I say.

“Really? Because it looks like you guys are like... In love with each other.” He scratches the back of his head.

I stop and turn mechanically. “We have known one another since we were kids. Neither one of us are in love with the other. Or are in a relationship of any sort than friends.” I turn forward and continue walking.

Apparently good friends didn’t cut it for him.

“Sounds like you’re a bit happy about that.” He almost laughs then joins back with me.

“Why does it seem like it?” I keep my eyes forward. The conscience’s telling me to just avoid him, because it knows very well that I’m willing to punch Alex across the face for being too nosy with my business. Then again, I’m a bit nosy myself, but I’m not like him though, I don’t dig into someone’s personal life like he is.

“You sound like you’re happy about him not being in a relationship with someone. Like you have an opportunity.”

“And suddenly you happen to be a love expert and you know what’s going on between Demetrius and me?”

He smiles like he can’t handle his own coolness, “I’ve hooked up many of my friends.”

I let out a huff through my nose, a small laugh. “I’m assuming that all of these relationships lasted for only about a week, correct?”

“No!” He goes quiet. “Some of them, but one’s still going on.”

One.

I give him the cold shoulder; I’m done talking and he knows very well. The door to my classroom is wide open and I’m waiting for the proper moment to walk right in. Without all the crowds wavering.

I wait outside of Demetrius’ classroom, where I always wait, like on the side of his house. A grouping of people walk out, most of them chatter to the one’s next to them. When Demetrius walks out, I join his side almost immediately. I feel like I may have an issue about being too clingy with him; Alex may slowly be rubbing off on me. “Looks like you had a lot of fun in Economics.” I say.

The look on his face tells me that he didn’t. But then again, it’s rather hard to differ between all of his expressions.

“Oh, who doesn’t love calculating the exchange rate from the simple dollar to third world cities currency?” He says sarcastically. “Oh, and then calculating that to other cities?”

Instead of countries, like how they were in the past, we have Cities, and the reason behind this is because they are easy to control and when it comes to voting, there isn’t that much difficulty with counting. But then again, our advanced technology makes that a rather easy task. So in the end, it’s pointless for us to divide into Cities. Honestly, I think I can do all the counting myself, but people seem to lazy to want to do that.

Also, it’s so that when something bad occurs, not just an entire people will be affected. Hopefully, if we play nice with other Cities, we’ll get support if something happens.

The closest City to ours is Fourier. Trade is alright, so our economy is alright. But it takes a long while to get there, or from what I’ve heard. About 50 miles out and takes about maybe a whole day if you tried hard enough and didn’t stop for anything.

I give him a small grimace. Elevators are always packed, and of course, there’s never a line to get into them. No one likes common old fashioned lines. Like no one’s good for them.

“We have an assembly after lunch.” He tells me.

“For?”

“Exactly.”

My heart starts to jitter, because we always hold assemblies in the auditorium, where it’s freezing. Who know’s what it’ll be about. Odds are it’s for the Presidential Campaign that’s going on. To go ahead and get our support the last minute. But really, what can we do? We’re kids, we can’t vote yet. Or at least more than half of us in school can’t vote yet, not until we’re 16.

“Seline.” Demetrius gets me out of my head. “Don’t panic.”

He’s right, I don’t need to worry so much, it’s only going to lead me into more trouble in the end. I might scream or cry and I’ll look strange to people, not that I really care of people’s opinions of me.

“Calm it.” He tells me smoothly, his eyes leading downwards. I follow his gaze down, and my hands are starting to twitch.

I clench my hands tightly. “Well, you know, it’s not that easy to stay calm when you’re the one that’s in possession.”

“I know, but it’s best you try.” He looks down at me, his eyes locked on mine.

It takes me a moment, but I realize that he’s acting much more prudent then how he was in the morning. I swear he’s bipolar.

“I mean, I don’t think you need to conceal it to the point where you look too normal.  Just do what you normally do.”

I sigh. That’s all that I need to do. Then it strikes me. I don’t really know what I do. It’s not like I’ve really observed myself. “How do I do that?”

He bites his bottom lip, “Um... Act like it’s not there.”

I can see it in him, while he may look content, he’s not. He’s equally, if not, more scared than I am about this. We stand for about another minute until he recommends that we go ahead and take the stairs instead. His patient is weak as much as my immune system for this school’s food is, and we’ll all get to discover that in a while now.

I follow behind him. He pulls me down the hallway, where it’s much more quieter than what it was. He holds the door to the stairway open.

Inside, it’s dead silent. Demetrius walks in behind me and the door thuds shut.

I swear that when I gulp, he can hear it. No awkward tension. A nice and pretty lie that I tell myself.

He starts up the stairs, leaving me a few steps behind him. No matter what, I can’t catch up to him. He casually walks up the stairs, his hands in his pant pockets.

Already, I can feel my mind start to react to the reticence.

“So, huh, how’s the weather today?” I ask him. Despite how ludicrous it is, I need noise. I need something to fill in the void.

“It’s fine. Ideally, it’s going to be cool tonight and there may be rain tomorrow. Nothing too major.” I appreciate how he says it so casually, like there isn’t anything wrong with me and it isn’t as dumb of a question as it sounds.

I look at the black painted numbers and letter on the wall.

12-S2. Twelfth grade, seniors, second floor.

It’s a nice idea that they made this stairwell open access to all grades. I’m enticed with the idea to just hop onto this floor and take their elevator, but I’ll get in trouble if they notice that I don’t belong.

However, I’m tall, so I think I’ll blend in rather well. And Demetrius, he’ll do just exceptional.

When I reach the next platform, he already holds the door open for me. “Hurry up.”

It’s nice that we both usually think the same thing. It saves half the trouble of speaking aloud to one another.

We reach the rooftop and I’m already falling sick. The airs already a bit too thin for me, but not for everyone else. I may just have a bit of somatoform, because everyone looks remotely fine while I feel my stomach churning and dying of illness.

I guess I have oxygen deficiency if everyone looks normal through my eyes.

I tell Demetrius that I’m going to go and sit down and I ask him to find something that looks the most appetizing and can hold down well in my stomach.

My head is cool against the metal tables. I sit in one of the tables that we can possibly label our territory. My eyes look through the diamond holes and my fingers clutch and prod at them.

Something clunks onto the table. I turn my head and it’s a plastic tray. A bottle of water, what I’m assuming is a sandwich and what I’m begging is a cookie. It’s flat and round, but there’s an odd look to it. It’s texture much too... I’m not even sure. Grainy, possibly. Rough almost.

“You give me one of the toughest jobs on the planet, find good food.” He plants the cookie down in front of me.

I rise up, give it a good stare though it’s plastic wrapping, then gently pick it up in my hands. I feel like I should take his bottle of water instead, I’m almost positive that that’s not poisoned. But he went through the trouble of doing it, so I put up with it. Illness or not.

I hope it’s not.

Alex startles me by sitting in front of us, “Hello, you two!” He jumps down onto the bench and shakes the entire table then places his own tray down. “Thanks for the homework Demetrius, I’m pretty sure I got an A.” He scrambles through his own bag and pulls out the paper, nice and straight like the way it was.

Why does that look much nicer than his homework? I ignore the question, because the answer will remain unknown.

I look up at him as I slowly unwrap the cookie. “I gave it a quick look. You do realize that he’s more critical on the work than on the answers, right? I’m sure you failed.”

His lips become a fine line, “It would have been very helpful if you told me before the teacher took it.”

“You need to learn to do your work. So you deserve to fail.”

Demetrius twist the cap on his water, “She’s right. If you don’t learn like this, you’ll never learn.” He takes a deep, long sip.

Alex sighs, knowing that we’re both right.

I pull the cookie up to my nose, it smells fine. But this doesn’t mean anything.

I’ve been here since pre-school. This is a cover up to what there can be. I break it in half, crumbs fall onto my lap. Nothing makes me feel suspicious. I take a bite.

Sweet, warm, almost melts in my mouth. “Holy cow. This isn’t bad.” I look at it flatly, almost like I’m not amused. Biting once more, I feel the softness and sweetness of the chocolate bits melt on my tongue. The doughy but solidness of the cookie itself evaporates in my mouth. Saliva fills my mouth as I indulge for the first time with school food.

“Who know’s, maybe it’s a time bomb and you go home vomiting.” Demetrius pull the sandwich up to his lips. I can see the hint of a smile in my peripheral vision.

I roll my eyes. “Why doesn’t anyone else get sick? Is the school just going after me or something?” I ask.

“You do know that they Government hasn’t been funding a lot of money into school you know. They probably have some big as Hell bomb they want to pop on someone.” Alex says.

That’s not a bad idea on why my food always sucks.

Demetrius swallows, “Your ingestive system must really suck. Or your immune system could be failing and you can possibly be living with a disease that can kill you.”

This isn’t the first time I’ve wanted to slug Demetrius in the face. He looks over at me and sees my expression.

“That or the school really does just hate you.”