High Grounds - Reality (Chapter 1)

 

 

One

 

 

 

This is called Partnership,

so live with it!

 

 

 

The old horse in pearls was braying again.

“As I was saying before I was rudely interrupted by people who do not know better,” she said pointedly, referring to Vanessa Law’s giggling session with her gal pals, “This is a project, a major project. And you all know what to do when you hear those words. It means you deposit more effort into the task. It will affect your –”

She silenced Kyle Whye and his dupe dudes with her trademark dirty look before resuming her braying. 

“It will affect your task fulfilment grades as well as your career guidance’s. And you all know what that means. It means it affects your university admission records.…”

Vanessa replied Sherry’s text message via her PDA: Lyk, ttly! Her pncl skrt is sooooo 2 mins ago! Gdns knws whr she gt em. Old curtains, maybe.

This triggered another eruption of giggles from the centre seats where she and her friends sat. Vanessa readjusted her beautiful face to look angelic and contrite as the old horse glowered darkly at her and her friends again.

“It is the first out of the three tasks that all of you shall have to complete before the year ends. So one task shall be given about a term to complete and they will all add up to a hundred percent. That will be your Group Assignment grade, and GA’s are very important in your future endeavours, as you probably already know.

“The first assignment deadline will before your March break, the second before the June holidays, and the third before the September break.” She paused and scanned the class before her. Just typical. She didn’t usually fall to stereotyping, but sometimes, rich brats will always be rich brats. Only a handful of the class was actually listening to what she was saying, and even that handful was slipping off to sleep.

“Oh, it’s not too difficult, now, is it? It’s just a few simple assignments, after all….” the horse simpered, baring all her herbivorous teeth. (Indeed, she was a vegetarian and was perpetually egging her students to give up meat and go down the ‘moral path of righteousness.’ Like, whatever.)

Not unless you tell us what the hell we’re supposed to do, Rebecca Thin thought, rolling her eyes. She stared over at Vanessa and her friends, whose fingers were flying frantically across their PDA screens, trying hard to stifle their giggles every few seconds. Rebecca gritted her teeth. This was hell.

“There are five topics set every term, and those five will change every term. Not one group will do the same thing as another, or the same thing another has done before. So don’t even try to cheat, do you hear me?”

Marissa Wong’s eyes watered as she tried to suppress an overpowering yawn. She looked around boredly, wondering if anyone was as jaded out as her, and realised that she was in the club. She also caught a glimpse of Kyle and his idiot friends looking her way –

No, wait. Actually, ogling at her should be more like it. Marissa flicked her eyes irritably away from them. Those guys were idiots, typical cocky rich men’s sons who thought they were total heartthrobs just because they were blessed with good looks and money. The word ‘himbos’ was created for them.

Well, fine, so perhaps they were kind of good-looking, but Marissa just could not stick guys who wore that arrogant smirk twenty-four/seven.

Staring at her dreamily, Kyle thought Marissa had to be some goddess of beauty in her past life. Not only was she pretty and sweet and cute and supremely nice (she always tried to hide her irritation with him), Marissa also had a sparkling personality. He just hoped she would not feel so irked by him. What did he do anyway?

Marissa turned her attention back to the horse, who had now proceeded to write down the topics on the board in her lean handwriting, as bony and angular as she was.

 

I. Vintage.

II. Models of Inspiration

III. Reality

IV. Child Psychology

V. The Next Era of Tech

 

Rebecca’s eyes glazed over as she read those words on the board. She wondered who she would have to work with this time. She had been assigned to partner up with the lieutenants of Dread Captain Vanessa, Alicia and Heather (who, mind you, were just as nasty), for that disastrous Geography project which was finally over last week. They had completely ostracised her, which almost led to her getting a zero for that project for free-riding.

It was not that Rebecca seriously lacked social skills, really; she just could not tolerate the people here. They were all downright rich little snobs who could not spare you more than ten seconds – or maybe just three – if you were not rich or famous or both.

Had she not earned that scholarship at the end of last year, she would not even be here, with all these kids who had way too much money and liberty on their hands for their own health.

However, she knew she would rather be here than at any other school, where the chances of getting accepted to Yale – her life-long aspired school – on a scholarship was close to zero; whereas here, in Grounds, a prestigious, exclusive private school where no-one who got anything less than an A walked around the school grounds, she stood at a better chance of entering her desired university. Healthy competition, after all, was what Rebecca thrived on.

Besides, she only had two years left to endure, how difficult could it be … right?

Meanwhile, Vanessa had finally paid a modicum of attention to what was written on the board. She was intelligent and was a straight A student (actually, who wasn’t one here?), so she thought she could always afford not listening in class … And, come to think of it, she could.

Vanessa IM-ed her friends – even though they were just sitting around her – excitedly: Shld we do Vntge / Mdls 4 Insprtn?

She was thinking of YSL’s latest fall collection for Vintage and maybe Tyra or Gisele for Models for Inspiration. She did not really notice that it was Models of Inspiration, being way too caught up in brainstorming which topic to do. YSL sounded like a good idea. But then again, Tyra and Gisele were easier to Google on. She could get her sister to send the latest pictures of them on the runway too.

Four seats on Vanessa’s left, Luke Han, too, was contemplating Vintage. There were some sheer beauties that Alfa Romeo and Aston Martin had to offer. Besides, his dad could help him out a bit too. They both adored cars so much they were practically Henry Ford’s number one greatest fans. Models of Inspiration sounded rather promising too: he could do something on Adam Scott and Tiger.

Jason Co, tucked away quietly at the front left hand corner of the classroom, was thinking of doing a mind-map expository on Edgar Allen Poe, complete with an article on him. Or, if not, he could always go for The Next Era of Tech … although he was not quite sure what that was supposed to mean. Was he supposed to invent something, perhaps?

“I will leave you all to figure out the titles yourselves,” the horse continued, folding her arms in front of her. “You just do what you reckon is right. We want personal perception which reflects your intellectual capacity.”

Well, that certainly helps a lot, Luke thought.

“And you are not to choose whom you want to partner with. The decision isn’t made by me,” the horse said. “If I were the creator of GA, I wouldn’t have cared if you paired up with the man on the moon, as long as the assignments are completed. But this time, the big guys are calling the shots, so swallow that for once.”

Great, Rebecca thought, let me get randomly thrown into a group consisting of a bunch of kids who don’t like me again. Not that if I had the liberty to choose, I’d find myself partners whom I enjoy anyway.

WHAT?! Vanessa wanted to scream. “We’re not allowed to choose who we’re working with?!” she demanded instead, with a spoonful of defiance.

“Yes, I do believe your ears are working fine, Vanessa, and so are mine. There’s no need to shout,” the horse sniffed contemptuously, trying to sound polite and curt. She was trying hard to be nice to the girl, on account of her father being one of the major contributors to the school, but for goodness’ sake, this girl was a brat inside out!

And now she was pouting, her Ice Creamed-glossed lips jutting out, catching the light and looking as though they had just been dipped into a vat of margarine. Vanessa was nigh on the most petulant, spoilt child she had ever had the misfortune to encounter. But come to think of it, which one of them here was not spoilt? Teenagers always seemed to overstep her tolerance threshold.

“Your names have been randomly picked by the computer, which is connected to the school’s Board of Directors all the time. So unless you wish to make a complaint to them, I advise you to sit your butts down and complete the tasks like good little children.”

This caused several fuming, indignant faces to scowl back at her. She ignored them, though, for she was used to receiving them on a daily basis. Hey, she wasn’t looking to be Mrs. Popular here, anyway.

“And,” she continued in her ringing voice, “you will be stuck with this group for the three assignments, like it or not. So cooperate, for goodness’ sake!”

“I’ll show her cooperate,” someone muttered in disgruntlement.

The horse went on with atypical verbal grace, as though she heard nothing. “It’s not going to do you any good to sulk and mess up your assignments and your subsequent grades to manifest your dissent. I’m afraid I would have to note your indisposed attitude down in your record lest anyone forces me to execute the extreme.”

She proceeded to read out the names of the group members in the five assigned groups. Or, perhaps drone out would be a more appropriate word.

“Group one: Sherry, Jeannette, Yu-sha, Jeremy, Nicholas and Alif; group two: Heather, Elizabeth, Amber, Harry, Xavier and Alex; group three: Kira, Alicia, Marianne, Tony, Gerald and Jerrold; group four: Rebecca, Marissa, Vanessa, Kyle, Luke and Jason.”

The horse looked up from the computer-generated list of names, looking bored, as though she were reading the names of soon-to-be convicts.

Even the big pandemonium she had just created amongst the students did not amuse her in the least. She didn’t even have to brace herself for the riot she had inadvertently caused. Being in this line for close to fifteen years, she expected nothing less. Really, these kids were simply too predictable!

“Oh, my goodness,” Vanessa was declaring to her friends/cronies aloud, her pretty face flushed with outrage, “Can you believe this? Everyone’s out to get us! Can you even stomach this! And whatever happened to the freedom to choose?”

“That’s bull! This just blows!” Tony – whose intellectual level was comparable to that of a wild boar, to put it mildly – was stating to his bunch of himbos, as though the general uproar was not a major statement enough.

Kyle remained silent, though, for the thought of doing a group project with Marissa was enough to make him forgo the fact that he could not do the project with his friends. Marissa! his mind cried out and he felt that he suddenly understood how Mr. Rochester must have felt when Jane Eyre returned to find him (he was made to read that book a couple of years back and, being Kyle Whye, found it an utterly baffling bore). Never in a million years would he ever have found the means to group up with her, and now he was! He looked out of the window he was seated next to and smiled upwards, thanking whoever that was up there.

This grouping wasn’t actually that bad. Luke was not that bad – totally righteous and cool. He was okay.

But Vanessa was definitely not: she was so whiny her voice gave him a migraine everytime he was within five-metre proximity of her. She was completely unlike Marissa (with her adorably short shoulder-length retro hairstyle and thick 60’s headband and open smile and pretty eyes that peeked from beneath her bangs), who could adapt in any situation and make friends anywhere. That was partly why Kyle loved her.

Vanessa, however, was a completely different story altogether. He wasn’t sure how she had earned her title of Queen of Grounds, because that girl was definitely no queen to him.

“When everyone has gotten over their melodramatic moment in the spotlight, get into your groups and send a representative up to choose the topics,” the horse neighed, her lone voice cutting above the din like a cleaver.

The hubbub died down and everyone’s face was a picture of mutinous fury.

Well, perhaps most of them were furious. Rebecca was not; Marissa was not; Jason was not; Luke was not; and – surprise, surprise – even Kyle (did hell just freeze over?) was not; and Kira and Yu-sha were not, even though they were best friends. They either looked bored or amused or impassive (and, in the case of Kyle, ecstatic). But those were just the minorities.

The majorities, on the other hand.…

“You can’t do this!” Vanessa wailed, almost close to tears.

Oh, how characteristically melodramatic! The next second she’d be saying she’s going to complain to her daddy, the horse thought, sighing boredly.

“You’ll be hearing from my daddy, Mrs. Ching!” Vanessa went on, in what she supposed was a threatening tone. “I’ll make sure –”

“Your prior ignorance to GA is, by no way, caused by me, Vanessa,” the horse snapped, her patience worn out like a frayed thread. “You must’ve entered this room expecting something along these lines. You can choose to hate it and screw it up, or sit pretty and do it well. Take your pick.”

She turned to address the entire class. “This has indeed proven that all of you are not ready to advance to the next stage of academic pursuit. I instructed everyone to get into your groups and send a rep up to the podium to choose the topic your group will be doing, from the green box here. Which part of that have you all misinterpreted it as whine some more?”

Everyone fell silent, affronted and petulant.

“Get into your groups now, and send a rep up to choose the topic – as I have repeated for the third time now.”

Vanessa scowled and motioned – none too eagerly – with a vague flick of her hand for her group members to gather around her desk. Rebecca reached there first since she was nearest to Vanessa. Dread filled her gut like a tank being liberally filled with sludge.

“You go,” Vanessa ordered languidly, pointing a freshly-manicured finger in Rebecca’s direction. “I’m not exactly feeling up to it.”

Yeah, sure, order me about like a servant in your mansion, why don’t you? Rebecca thought, incensed.

Jason beamed to himself as he made for his group. He was exultant and his heart was soaring. Vanessa! He finally had a chance to group up with Vanessa, his one and only true love, ever since they went to the same kindergarten and he watched her boast about her expensive set of oil pastels during Show and Tell! She normally would not have given him the time of the day, on account of his … ahem, ‘geeky loser’-ness (her words he had overheard being spoken to her friends the first time he gathered the nerve to say hi to her), but this time she had no choice but to!

Wow, she’s even more beautiful up this close! Jason marvelled silently. I could just drown in those dark, twinkly eyes that make her look so enigmatic. And her heart-shaped face framed by some tendrils of dark wavy hair that’s got streaks of brown in it just complements her high, prominent cheekbones that upper-class girls just seem to be born with.  She’s beautiful even when she’s scowling like she is now!

“Hi Vanessa!” he couldn’t help but chirp.

Vanessa slumped back in her chair in an uncharacteristic manner that would have made her mother jab a sharp finger hard into her back primly. She glared at Jason, then up at Rebecca up at the podium, just to vent her rage at the injustice done to her on someone. To think she would actually have to kowtow to this stupid order! The Board of Directors did not even know who they were, much less how they were going to click, so who were they to group them up?

And it was not exactly within her father’s power to alter any of what she was to be stuck with. As often as it was that she got her way, Vanessa knew that these were the rules, and no amount of string-pulling would get her her way.

Plus, it would not be that bad if she was not entirely grouped with a bunch of losers. Okay, so perhaps Marissa was not that bad, but she was not exactly bitching material too, unlike her friends. She was such a goody-two-shoes, she probably wouldn’t find it ‘nice’ to gossip about others.

And what was with that weirdo – what was his name again … oh, right, Jason – who keeps grinning to himself? Talk about inside-out outcast material!

Furthermore, Kyle Whye was an idiot. He was so thoroughly cocky and smug. Not that Vanessa was not either, but still. He was so thick, for goodness’ sake!

Oh, how she hated this! She was going to be stuck for a year with the same group-mates and nobody even cared, least of all the stupid parochial rule-abiding horse.

But Vanessa would be relieved to know that the feeling was mutual towards Kyle and Rebecca. At least, she would not have anybody lapping her up like a greedy little puppy.…

(Oh, wait, you forgot Jason.)

Rebecca, as she trudged up to the podium where the box was, was feeling none too excited by this entire business either. She had known this was going to happen. Anyone grouped with her would definitely complain and demand for a change of group members. She supposed she was quite a party pooper, but who cares? She’s got a lot to contend with these days. Screw those rich idiots.

Marissa was feeling just a teensy bit frustrated. And Kyle was the reason for her frustration. The guy could not stop staring at her, and it was freaking her out, even though she was used to guys checking her out. But Kyle was doing it way overboard. One would have thought she was a figurine of Angelina Jolie or Jessica Alba, given the way Kyle was salivating over her.

This is such bullsh – Vanessa was about to IM Amber, when she happened to glance up and see Luke making his way casually to her desk, as though he belonged in any part of this room. Her eyes lit up significantly, enough to keep Singapore alight 24/7 for the rest of the year. He was working with her? He was? She had no idea, being too overwhelmed with anger upon hearing that she would not be doing a project with her friends.

“Hey, guys,” Luke said in that same easy way, shooting his new group-mates his delicious smile as he took a seat in front of Vanessa. She almost squealed with a frisson of delight.

Maybe this would not be quite so bad after all, she thought, a curl of pleasure dissolving in her. She had caught Luke once during his tennis sessions with Gerald, and he had looked supremely yummy-licious in his white Nike polo shirt, which totally screamed out the contrast of it with his tanned, muscular arms. She realised she was staring and quickly looked away. It wouldn’t do to be so obvious about things. With her hair shielding her gaze, she snuck a peek back at him like a typical schoolgirl – and almost melted. He could totally be a model, with that strong, masculine jaw and nose, and high, sculpted cheekbones and those lips, and the casually-swept hair.…

But knowing Luke, he probably would just scorn at modelling as a profession.

Her IM vibrated.

LUKE?! Gf, can u b any luckier?! – Liz. Vanessa looked up from her PDA screen and grinned at Elizabeth knowingly.

Meanwhile, on the podium, Rebecca was a little nervous – okay, make that very nervous. She hoped she wouldn’t get Child Psychology. She was having enough problems with her siblings without anymore being added to it. And what exactly did Reality and The Next Era of Tech require her to do?

So that left only Vintage and Models of Inspiration, which could be easy; she could pick any great writer of the age and be done with it. Charlotte Bronte or Jane Austen would cut it in a tick.

Rebecca wondered if she could be that lucky to get either of those two. She guessed not, given how her life was turning out right now. 

“Are all the reps up here already?” the horse asked, one gold-laden hand laid protectively on the green box as though it contained a pearl dredged up from the bottom of the ocean and not merely the topics to be chosen. “Swell. Now group one rep, take a pick.”

Sherry’s face fell drastically as she peeked at her choice. She threw a filthy look at the horse, which the recipient ignored, and clomped her way down the podium and back to her group. The horse drew an angry red line across Child Psychology and Rebecca blew out a gust of relief that sent her limp fringe fluttering before her eyes. At least she was a step closer now.…

“Group two rep, Amber.…” the horse mumbled. Amber took a step towards the green box and broke into a grin as she waved her card at her group. She had gotten what she wanted: Vintage.

Vanessa grew a notch more despaired. One of her coveted titles was taken. She shot a look of envy at Amber, who merely shrugged in apologetic sympathy.

Alicia got The Next Era of Tech, to the disappointment of the girls in the group.

Rebecca was up next. She had only Reality and Models of Inspiration to luck between. She had no clue what Reality was asking for. If she got Reality, she was sure to mess it up – and thinking that her ‘intellectual capacity’ was so insignificant she would most likely be unable to contribute much, Yale would probably not accept her.

Then she could kiss her Yale scholarship goodbye. And going to Yale meant everything in the world to Rebecca. She could not mess this up.

In her seat, Vanessa narrowed her eyes at Rebecca, arrowing her thoughts that she hoped the girl would receive. If she didn’t get Models, she swore she would make Rebecca’s life a living hell.

Now, Rebecca, having chosen her topic, stared despondently at the horse as she struck Reality off on the board. Great, she thought, her mouth dry as chalk. Just brilliant. Now the rest can have a reason to hate me. And there goes Yale.

Elizabeth therefore got Models of Inspiration, the last card in the green box. She cheered and bounced back to her group.

When Rebecca returned to her group and took her seat beside Luke, all Vanessa could do was to restrain herself from hitting the girl. Honestly, she was such a jinx! As if landing up with group members like Rebecca and Kyle and Jason was not enough, she still had to run with a topic like Reality. Who cared about Reality anyway?

“God, Rebecca, land us up with a crap topic and make us all fail, why don’t you?” Vanessa grumbled, her eyes resembling hot coals as she frowned at Rebecca. Trust her to get them all into a dead end like this one!

“Hey, come on, Vanessa,” Luke jumped in, defending Rebecca, his sense of righteousness kicking in again. “It’s not exactly Rebecca’s fault if she got us the topic you’re not keen on,” he said.

Vanessa stared at him in shock. Then the surprise wore off and she sulked. Why, exactly, was he speaking up for the penniless Little Miss Attitude?

That bout of righteousness went unappreciated by Rebecca anyway. She did not need anybody to fight her battles for her, thank you very much. Especially not some moneyed boy – probably a model – who seemed to think he was being oh-so-charming by doing her a favour.

“Yes, it is my fault, Vanessa,” Rebecca retorted. “But guess what? Since we’re stuck with this crap topic, you’d actually be more productive by shutting up and dealing with it.”

Vanessa seethed with indignation, wishing she could make her pay. Nobody spoke to Vanessa that way; nobody told her to shut up. Who did Rebecca think she was again, the Queen of Grounds? Excuse me, that title was assumed by her, Vanessa Law.

She had disliked Rebecca the moment she laid eyes on her, with her perpetually down-turned mouth and moody scowl and tear-stained face, which was always covered by her limp, too-long bangs and curtain of shoulder-length jet-black hair. Like, hello, didn’t she get the memo? That tortured-soul image was so over.

And what was that about her telling Vanessa to shut up and be more productive? Talk about forgetting your place! That girl was here on a scholarship, for crying out loud! She could not even afford to come to Grounds! A poor vermin like Rebecca not treating Vanessa with due respect? It drove Vanessa up the wall!

If looks could kill, Rebecca would be in her grave by now. But then again, with the death look Rebecca was shooting back, Vanessa would be dead too.

“You have only got fifteen minutes left for discussion, in view of the fact that you have all wasted fifteen minutes on getting accustomed to the idea of working out of your safety zones. So get cracking,” the horse continued, and left everyone in peace from her voice.

“Oh, and by the way,” the horse continued lightly, leaning against her desk. All twenty-four pairs of exasperated eyes turned to look at her. “For the first and final GAs, you’re all required to do a presentation at the end of the terms … in front of the entire level of Year 5. So let’s try to do it well, now, shall we?” she said, simpering and smirking vindictively at the sight of their pained expressions. Oh, revenge was sweet.

“Can you even believe this? This must be the worst requirement anyone has ever set!” Kyle grumbled and shut up from the look Marissa had shot him.

Marissa looked from Vanessa to Rebecca to Vanessa to Rebecca, then to the guys. The tension in the air between the two she-cats was so tight it would probably produce ultrasonic waves if it were to be plucked.

The guys looked as uncomfortable as she was, squirming in their chairs, their eyes roving from one fuming-mad girl to the other.

Marissa cleared her throat. “Well,” she ventured, her voice a tad too loud. The two of them still kept their venomous gazes fixated on each other. “Shall we get down to work, then?” She took down the minutes on her orange notepad and wrote down 16^th February, Monday: First discussion meeting at the top of the page.

“Absolutely!” Kyle chimed in. “So … Reality, huh? What does it mean? Any suggestions? Luke? Marissa?”

Marissa seldom disliked anybody, but Kyle was really getting on her nerves. Flattered as she was, Marissa could not help but feel irritated with his earnest, lovesick gaze.

“Maybe you should just learn to keep your comments to yourself and know your place, Rebecca,” Vanessa snorted and finally broke the stare. She looked at Marissa. “You were saying?”

Luke frowned at Vanessa silently, judging her, even though judging people was the last thing Luke ever did. He knew she was spoilt and as self-absorbed as the next girl in Grounds, but what she had said to Rebecca was plain patronising. He wanted to say something in defence of Rebecca, but he doubted she would appreciate his gesture.

Rebecca had slumped back into her seat, refusing to chip in anything, still enraged by Vanessa’s condescending attitude. Rich snobs would always be rich snobs, her mother had told her before she became what she was now. Rebecca could not agree more.

Her thoughts were dimmed by the din in the class as everyone plunged into the discussion of their GA.

“Hey, Vanessa, maybe we could do a story!” Jason chirped, his arms widespread, accepting any.…

Criticism.

“A story? What are you, like, five?” Vanessa replied derisively with a contemptuous snort.

Marissa looked at her group members. It was really going to be hard trying to work with them. She absently shared a mutual grimace with Kyle, which soon sent the guy’s heart soaring.

“You know, tell you all what,” Luke cut in, his voice decisive. “Why don’t we arrange another day to meet up? And then we can get into the discussion properly and professionally. Today’s not a terrific day for it, it seems.”

How chauvinistic, Rebecca thought, keeping her thoughts to herself. Trust him to tell everyone what to do.

“How’s Wednesday, then, at my house? That way, we’ll have two days to prepare our materials,” Jason suggested, mainly directing his words to Vanessa, hoping she would agree. Instead, she looked out the window in blatant glumness, fuming at her soft shell-pink ears.

“Sounds good,” Luke said.

And everyone fell silent upon having reached a decision. Marissa scribbled Too much tension to defuse under the date on her orange notepad, and closed it, signalling the end of any group discussion.

Hoping to ease the tension, Luke started chatting to Marissa – since they had known each other since young, being next-door neighbours all their lives – and Kyle tried to interject the conversation, to Marissa’s annoyance. Vanessa stared sadly at Luke, wallowing in abject self-pity.

All through talking with Marissa and Kyle, Luke was surveying Rebecca, who was studiously avoiding eye contact with him. What is his problem? Stare much? she thought irritably.

But Luke wanted to find out what her problem was. He remembered that Rebecca did not use to be this way, when she stepped into Grounds around the end of last year. He had seen her around the mini-tutorials during the year-end holidays (Grounds believed in being a few steps ahead of other schools in every aspect there was) and he remembered she was more or less like Marissa, nice and friendly, her large eyes bright and hopeful, though she mostly kept to herself, probably upon thinking that she would not fit in here.

Luke knew that at least then, she had tried. Now, it was as though another person had taken over her. Did something happen over the holidays? Well, she wouldn’t be alone then; he could have invited her to join the proverbial club. But he knew s**t happened, and sometimes, s**t was like GA: you just had to make the damn lemonade.

Luke noticed a certain pain and sadness suffused in her eyes that made it almost unbearable to look at her. Those eyes were different. He could tell from those deep, dark eyes of hers that she had been hurt many times by life and its ironies. And he wished she would let him alleviate her pain. He did not know that sometimes, righteousness could turn into a personal duty.

When the bell rang, everyone in group four could not wait to get away from each other, each grabbing their stuff and tearing the hell out of that room.