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Description
“Now, you’re all here for a reason. Remember that. This was your choice.”

Yeah, like I stood up in the middle of class and was like “Hey, can I waste seven hours of my life in ISS? Please? Oh, thanks so much.”

I fill in the bubbles of a quiz we were supposed to take today. The lead looks dirty on the paper, heavy, menacing like the sky looked from the bus this morning. I wouldn’t know how it looks now, of course, because this room has no windows, furnished only with desks and flickering fluorescent lights.

Bored with the quadratic formula, I zone in on the outline of the girl in front of me. First layer is an incandescent white- a virgin. Rare, as this is ISS- most of us have had more than our fair taste of tangible teenage experiences. Its brightness partly invades her second layer, which is a deep blue.

That’s really weird. Philosophical, reflective, wise virgins with silky-water blonde hair and indigo eyes usually are not the top candidates for severe disciplinary action. Curious, I gently probe surface thoughts- there are no words, but she is picturing the smooth handle of a gun. She is picturing herself pulling it from her backpack, shooting through the teacher’s heart so that she will never have to go to this school again.

I lean forward in my chair, and whisper, “Don’t do it. There are better ways to escape. Trust me, I would know.”

Startled, she whips her head around, eyes like a deer caught in the headlights. She bites her lip.

“Finn,” Mr. Beserve barks, “no talking.”

I wouldn’t talk to me like that if I were you, dude. I probably just saved your life.

Description
“Now, you’re all here for a reason. Remember that. This was your choice.”

Yeah, like I stood up in the middle of class and was like “Hey, can I waste seven hours of my life in ISS? Please? Oh, thanks so much.”

I fill in the bubbles of a quiz we were supposed to take today. The lead looks dirty on the paper, heavy, menacing like the sky looked from the bus this morning. I wouldn’t know how it looks now, of course, because this room has no windows, furnished only with desks and flickering fluorescent lights.

Bored with the quadratic formula, I zone in on the outline of the girl in front of me. First layer is an incandescent white- a virgin. Rare, as this is ISS- most of us have had more than our fair taste of tangible teenage experiences. Its brightness partly invades her second layer, which is a deep blue.

That’s really weird. Philosophical, reflective, wise virgins with silky-water blonde hair and indigo eyes usually are not the top candidates for severe disciplinary action. Curious, I gently probe surface thoughts- there are no words, but she is picturing the smooth handle of a gun. She is picturing herself pulling it from her backpack, shooting through the teacher’s heart so that she will never have to go to this school again.

I lean forward in my chair, and whisper, “Don’t do it. There are better ways to escape. Trust me, I would know.”

Startled, she whips her head around, eyes like a deer caught in the headlights. She bites her lip.

“Finn,” Mr. Beserve barks, “no talking.”

I wouldn’t talk to me like that if I were you, dude. I probably just saved your life.