Sunny September, part five. A very strange girl.

  “I won’t tell anyone else I swear to god. Please put that thing away.”

  Daniel whimpers as he leans against the wall, flinching when I switch the safety off.

  Charlie laughs, amused by the sight of a kid threatening another with a gun.

  I smile back at the janitor before looking at Daniel before explaining. “A glock nineteen firing off produces one hundred and sixty decibels. Everyone in the corridors will hear it, and I’d have seconds to squeeze my ass through the window before the security take action. Then I’d be on the run for the rest of my life.”

  “What are you even talking about.” Daniel says before flinching again when I switch the safety back on.

  I close my eyes as I shake my head. “What I’m saying is that I ain’t gonna shoot you nigga. I’m not stupid. The gun is something I have because I’m affiliated with Okimoto. He is hated by some really dangerous people, and I’ve danced with death because of that.”

  Daniel’s erratic breathing starts to slow as he calms down. A puddle had formed underneath him at some point. Wait… did this guy really piss himself?

  I pretend not to notice and continue, “remember the boys in the blue bandana’s we saw in here earlier. Some of them have guns too and they say they’re Crip affiliates but who knows. All I know is that Okimoto pissed off a real Crip affiliate in the past. He ended up coming after us and killing one of our OG homies. My dad intervened and talked him out of killing me too. With the life we live we can’t afford to be around liabilities who go off bragging and running their mouths thinking we’re cool. We’re not cool or anything to be impressed by. So please I beg you don’t go around telling our business to your friends. In fact you shouldn’t associate with us any further because I like Katrina and your sister. They shouldn’t be knowing things they don’t need to know, it will only put them in danger. And I really don’t want to get arrested because the police catch wind of what we’re doing.”

  I don’t like having to get this personal with him but I have no choice. I remember that kid, Andrew. He was what Elton is now, an awkward third wheel in my friendship with Okimoto. He was a bad kid like the rest of us, but he was a real loyal friend as well. I remember how it happened. Boom! One second we were leaning over the railings at Santa Monica Pier. The next second I was facing down the barrel of a grown man’s gun while the last of Andrew’s nerves fired off as I held his slouching corpse. It was still warm. My dad came up behind the guy with a gun of his own. After a brief conversation they struck a deal to make up for the man’s losses and I got my ass beat black and blue back at home. I was twelve, I had barely any hairs in my armpits when I saw my friend die inches away from me. After that day my dad gave me a gun of my own. Told me that I had to protect my own ass since I was becoming a man.

  “Dude believe me I won’t say shit.” Daniel says with a nervous laugh.

  “Good…” I reply.

  With this matter hopefully settled I awkwardly shake his hand before leaving.

  I enter my class fifteen minutes late. My teacher, Ms. Jefferson pauses mid conversation with our gym class instructor Mr. Green to look at me dissatisfied. Since this is only my fourth day, I don’t know her too well, so far she seems to be very nice and laid back. Or at least she was the previous three days when I was on time. Mr. Green, the oldest of Trevor’s siblings was already on cloud nine, staring at me as if wandering if I’m a hallucination. An entire family of stoners.

  “Christopher you’re late…” She sighs fiddling with her pen and adjusting her glasses. “What happened?”

  “I had to take a sudden dump after passing through the metal detectors” I lie, “I swung by Taco Bell with some friends on my way here. I had this amazing burrito that now seems to be taking its revenge.”

  I glance briefly at the rest of the class. It’s homely. Long lines of red paper sculptures hang from the ceiling, artwork from the previous year’s freshman is shielded by a glass wall that runs down the left side of the room. A red carpet decorates the gap between the teacher’s station and the first row of double desks. Unfortunately dirt from the shoes of my classmates defile it.

  My late arrival doesn’t seem to have attracted the class’s attention, instead it’s drawn to the back of the class. All but a few chatter and crowd around the far right corner… where my desk is…

  “You poor thing.” Ms. Jefferson continues, smiling at me as I look back at her. Are you sure you don’t need to see the nurse.”

  “I feel better now so no.”

  “So I’m assuming you went to Taco Bell before you gave Chica a lift?”

  I freeze.

  “I think it’s so sweet that you did that for her on her first day.”

  Looking back towards my desk, I see some kids return to their own, clearing up the area a bit and allowing my eyes to meet with her’s.

  “HI CHRISTOPHERRR!” She purrs flirtatiously.

  “I made you two desk mates, I think you’ll be great friends.” Ms. Jefferson explains.

  Before I can say anything back to the teacher Mr. Green suddenly snaps awake and asks. “W… why am I here again?”

  Ms. Jefferson motions for me to scram, ending our brief conversation.

  My expression is blank as I look at Chica on my way to ‘our’ desk.

  I pass by one of the kids that weren’t a part of the crowd. Dwayne looks me up and down. It’s the same condescending smirk I give Daqwan. He pulls his black hood over his head before going on his phone with an indifferent expression.

  “Hi Chica.” I say, my voice flat.

  “Hi Christopher,” she repeats redundantly, brushing her black hair behind her ears.

  She smiles and I really don’t like how beautiful I find it.

  She shifts over to the right seat that’s against the wall while patting the one she left behind which I guess is my place now. I prefer to sit with my shoulder to the wall so I can lean against it but I guess what I want doesn’t matter anymore. I had told Ms. Jefferson to NOT give me a desk partner multiple times but who cares right.

  I throw my backpack under my side of the desk and sit down, immediately feeling her hip and thigh against mine. It’s obvious that the desk is made for normal sized freshman, neither me nor Chica are fat but I’m an extremely lanky boy and she has the butt of a Belgian draft horse. Looking down it’s like one of those internet memes where the girl’s thighs dwarfs the boy’s. Sitting next to Chun li in her bimbo era, I can’t help feeling tiny and boxed in. A feeling not helped by the others that still linger around my desk, ignoring my scowling presence and continuing to force conversation with her.

  “So are you down to go to the movies or what…” A Ginger kid asks, his voice cracking with nervousness and anticipation, (I think his name is Thomas or something). Two of his friends, lurk like leeches by his side. I know the looks on their faces. The types of shit eating grin a guy friend gives to another for daring to ask a girl out ready to dog him when he gets rejected.

  Knowing that the ginger kid is about to become the laughing stock of the class calms my nerves.

  I look over at Chica who smiles back at the boy regretfully, a sly smile of my own creeping across my face.

  “I’m sorry…” she whimpers. “My mom and dad don’t want me dating anyone until I turn sixteen.”

  Classic.

  The ginger slouches and walks over to his friends that immediately rip him to shreds like a pair of laughing hyenas. Honestly I respect the kid, at least he tried to shoot his shot while his friends will be passively drooling at her from across the class for years to come.

  According to Dashawn it’s a terrible Idea to ask a girl to the movies. He says it’s better to go for a walk by the beach where you can finger her under the water, or take her to a party where you can explore each other in the bathroom. Okimoto said that the best date location is detention because the moans always force the teachers to kick you out early. Two crazy bastards.

  “So anyway…” The last of the lingering kids, Lucy a girl from the modelling club starts talking after rolling her eyes. “You should think about joining the modelling club. And don’t forget what I said about Christiana, that girl’s a real rancid bitch so please avoid her.”

  That’s right, I got here late. She’s probably spoken to everyone in class by now.

  “Hi Christopher.” Lucy addresses me and continues to say. “I heard from Shakira that your phone is dead. She passed on her charger for you to use, you have to return it by lunchtime though because her battery’s also low.”

  “I actually have my own with me.” I reply.

  I smile. Shakira always looks out for me.

  Lucy laughs, exposing her braces. “I guess I’ll just give it back when Homeroom class is over.”

  The girl returns to her desk as I feel Chica tap her foot against mine to get my attention.

  “I’m sorry for forcing you to sit between me and those three boys.” She whispers with a pitying smile while sliding her hand over mine. “They wouldn’t leave me alone and I really just needed a way to make them go away while still being nice. Nothing against them I just felt a bit overwhelmed.”

  “Well it didn’t matter since he still tried to shoot his shot anyway.” I reply flatly before yawning. “So much for hiding behind me.”

  “I wasn’t hiding from themmm!.” She moans and pouts, “you’re making it sound like I’m a bitch!”

  “Whatever.” I say, dipping under to open my bag and retrieve my charger before plugging it into a socket on the ground to charge my phone.

  “No! Now his friends are making fun of him!” Chica cries.

  I sit back upright to see her lean forward in her seat to look past me as her brows curl.

  She gets up and yells, “knock it off! Don’t make fun of him when he made a move like a real man!”

  The two boys immediately look this way before chuckling.

  “You’re totally right!” The Indian boy replies as the blonde goes on to say. “That was some real big dick energy right there!”

  The ginger kid mumbles something before throwing his head in his arms as he crumples in his desk, his blushing complexion merging with his red hair.

  “Girl don’t even bother with them.” Lucy comments before going on her phone.

  I look at Chica who shakes her head before sitting back down. Her birthmark stares at me, her silver eyes all too similar to a certain someone’s. Thinking back to his words I wonder if I can really go on like this. I have dealt with Daniel and have received affirmation from Shakira and Markeiff but there was still Trevor to worry about. I didn’t see him at all this morning so I wonder if he’s absent. If so then why? What if his parents found out about the dynamite and he’s been arrested already. I have to be prepared for anything.

  “What’s on your mind?” Chica asks, snapping me away from my paranoia.

  She holds her finger over her lip as she gives me a thorough look and I feel the same feeling from earlier, the feeling of being exposed.

  “You look stressed.” She comments.

  “Don’t worry about it.” I change the subject with a smile. “How’s your first day? Looks like you’re already friends with Lucy over there.”

  “Friends?” She asks before yelling at Lucy with a bubbly smile. “We’re friends now right Lucy?”

  “Of course!”

  “What about us?” Chica asks, her eyes dilated. “We’re friends too right?”

  Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

  “Don’t forget Thomas!” The blonde kid yells from across the room. “He’s also your friend to-“

  “Ohh! Put a sock in it already!” The ginger kid finally snaps.

  Chica bats her eyes at them before continuing to smile at me, waiting for my answer. Why does she even want to be friends with me anyway? I wasn’t nice to her at all earlier. I can’t just say no because that would create awkwardness and unneeded angst. If I say yes then I’m at risk of another unknown variable in the friend group.

  Mr. Green leaves the classroom and Ms. Jefferson plays an episode of Tom and Jerry on the large screen at the front of the classroom.

  “What’s a friend to you?” I ask her.

  “Umm… someone that you enjoy spending time with?”

  “You think you’ll enjoy spending time with me?” I giggle as I raise an eyebrow. “Even after I treated you the way I did?”

  Her eyes look to the red paper sculptures dangling above us as she thinks up a reply. “Well you’re acknowledging that it’s wrong, so that tells me that you’re not as bad as my first impression led me to believe. So tell me what is a friend to you?”

  I go on to say, “most kids don’t think about what a friend really is. To them just hanging around and doing fun activities together is enough. But it goes deeper than that.”

  Much deeper… in my case it goes so deep you get people killed.

  With a playful laugh, Chica spins in her seat to face me throwing her legs over my lap. “It does? I mean we’re both fourteen how much deeper does it get?”

  I sigh. Sometimes I forget how different my life is from ordinary kids. I don’t know anything about this girl but I doubt her life was as hard as mine. I could be wrong, but that remains to be proven since she hasn’t told me about her life or why she has a birthmark like that…

  “Well not all of us have the luxury of an ordinary life,” I say, “it’s easy to be around people who rave and screw around all the time and learn absolutely nothing of substance. It’s hard to meet people that have outlooks on things that deepen your insight. To me, a friend or at least a person of value is someone that pushes you to become sharper and more wise.”

  Forget what I said at the start of the prologue instead of the definition of screwed my picture should be next to the definition of hypocrite. What wisdom did I have when I did what I did last night? Now that I think about it where’s my wisdom been the last five years of my life?

  Chica continues to giggle, apparently everything I say is the funniest thing in the world to her.

  “You sound like my dad.” She says, continuing to smirk. “My mom too, they always say stuff like that and I agree. I think life can teach you the right lesson if you look in the right place… that’s why I’m here”

  “Yes we’re friends.” I reply.

  I reach across the table to shake her hand. She smiles as she accepts it. I feel her rub her thumb over the back of my hand in a bit too much of an affectionate gesture (we don’t even know each other). This girl’s a little odd but that’s fine, I’m far from a normal person so who am I to judge.

  I might be placing myself at a greater risk of being caught but it’s probably better to be friends with her if only to avoid the awkwardness of saying no. The police could barge through the door any second now anyway so it’s not like it would make much of a difference.

  “You seem a little sad.” She comments as she releases my hand. “What’s wrong?”

  Everything is wrong. It’s been that way since the day I sprang forth from my evil mother’s womb.

  “Like I said before don’t worry.” I reply.

  “No tell me!”

  “Girl chill he’s not going anywhere damn!” Lucy comments and I wonder just how much of our conversation she’s heard.

  I lean in, making sure no one else hears what I’m about to say. “Let’s just say I might not be attending this school for much longer.”

  Her feline eyes squint as she smirks. “Sooo… you did do a very bad thing! Naughty boyyy…”

  I hold my finger over her lips. “Shh… don’t tell.”

  I quickly pull my hand back when she tries to bite my damn finger off.

  She giggles. “I do a lot of naughty stuff too, so don’t worry, I won’t judge you. In my eyes you can do no wrong.”

  “Well the law thinks I can do a lot of wrong.”

  She scoffs. “I’ll bust you out of jail and drag you right back to your place in this seat right beside me. Technically it’s in front of me now, but you get the point.”

  Feeling as cramped in as ever I look down at her legs that cross my lap. “It feels more like it’s underneath you to be honest.”

  Hopefully she doesn’t take it as a comment on her weight.

  There is a pause before she splays her hand over her chest and lets out an exaggerated gasp. “Underneath meee! Lucy Christopher disrespected me! He said I’m ugly and built like Gloria the hippo from Madagascar.”

  “I did not say all of that.”

  “Christopher what the fuck!” Lucy yells, “she’s stunning I wish I had a body like that. You boys need to snap back to reality It’s not the nineties anymore, not every girl is some delicate little twig that blows away in the wind. She’s literally built like an instagram model and you called her a hippo? Seriously this level of fatphobia is downright cartoonish, Wh-“

  As Lucy goes on to preach with the passion of a pastor looking for donations I side-eye Chica who seems quite proud of what she’s done.

  Her legs curl up as she laughs to herself. “Sorry I just couldn’t miss the chance to fish her for compliments. That’s what I love about other girls they’ll go so far to hype me up.”

  “When you said you couldn’t date until you’re older that was a lie right?”

  “Duhh!”

  Okay you don’t have to make me feel stupid for asking.

  “So what kind of people are your parents then?”

  “Sweetie please we haven’t even been on our first date yet.” She giggles. “You haven’t even bought me flowers or given me a kiss or even called me beautiful. It’s way too early for you to worry about meeting my parents.”

  I frown and pick the option requiring the least amount of effort. “Fine you’re beautiful. Look I gave you a compliment are you happy now? Please tell me about your parents.”

  “Nahhh.” She purrs before sticking her boobs out and splaying her hand over her chest again as if addressing herself like a queen with a gleaming smile. “Calling me beautiful isn’t a compliment, it’s stating an objective fact. It’s like complimenting the sky by calling it blue.”

  I wish I had this much of an ego.

  I fail to stop myself from laughing. “Don’t tell me I have to kiss you too.”

  She shakes her head. “Not in here dummy, those boys that came up to me earlier will see and I don’t want Thomas to be even more heart broken.

  Giving up I lean in and whisper. “As I said a minute ago I might not be attending this school for much longer. So don’t expect this friendship to last.”

  “You’re safe with me.” She replies simply. “As long as I’m here you’re not going anywhere.”

  “What…”

  I don’t know why but something felt a little off about her phrasing just now. The level of certainty in her voice makes it sound like she’s somehow above the law. Her attitude is also bizarre. I’m pretty sure I’ve waved a bunch of red flags but she’s done nothing but smile and giggle during our conversation. She’s also weirdly affectionate which reminds me of how Leah acted when she first met Dashawn.

  That girl turned out to be a total psycho.

  For the first few months of her and Dashawn’s relationship she practically worshipped the ground he walked on. She cooked for him almost every day, washed his dirty boxers and sweaty basketball shorts. She went on and on about marrying him and wanting to have his children. Dashawn was in heaven. It became hell when he found a snip in his condom one night. After that incident things went down hill fast. They got into screaming matches every day. she always threatened to kill herself when he said anything that implied an intent to end things with her. I dare not say what she did when he finally snapped and declared that it was over bluntly.

  There was this one time around November last year (I forgot when his birthday is) when me and Okimoto came to his birthday party and saw a scene from a soap opera. He ran down his driveway, his naked body streamlined with his manhood slinging between his legs and shrunken by the cold, Leah hot on his tail with the biggest kitchen knife I’ve ever seen. Even now, I still shiver at the thought of her blood crazed green eyes, the sheer terror of having to talk down a manic bitch while she swings a knife around in your face, your best friend unfazed and laughing the entire time. I really hope this girl isn’t like that.

  “What do you mean?” I ask.

  “I ain’t gotta tell you my business.” She quotes me, forcing a deep voice to make fun of the way I talk.

  I shrug before chuckling to myself.

  “What’s so funny?” She asks.

  “Write down your phone number on a piece of paper for me.” I say.

  Chica quickly flies into a haste, giggling as she retrieves her purse from under her chair.

  It looks expensive, I don’t know the brand name but I’m pretty sure I’ve seen one just like it lying in a store window in Beverly Hills. It’s beige coloured with gold edges and seems quite heavy. This girl’s probably rich. I’m sure if Shakira were here she’d be able to tell the exact model and brand on sight. Hell she’d probably be able to smell it.

  She returns to sitting properly as she writes her number down and I take the opportunity to grab my phone.

  I move to kneel beside the desk and unlock it, seeing over one hundred notifications, beside the Snapchat app. I click on it and see that most of them come from Dashawn’s group chat that has over a hundred members from all year groups added to it.

  I read the messages that are being exchanged and my heart freezes over.

  YourboyJD: Bro the cops just left my class after asking us a bunch of questions, Apparently they found a Jersey Jacket from our school near the Hollywood letters this morning.

  Dwayne8: damn. So the bombers were some dudes from our school?

  Dashawn: it’s probably Daqwan’s crazy ass.

  Daqwan: shh don’t snitch cuh.

  Leah: Smh def one of D, Cheffei’s little goons that he’s got here.

  “Christopher…” I hear Dwayne call out to me.

  I hear him rush over to my desk before I look up and my eyes meet with his.

  “Damn you’re already aware huh.” He chuckles, oblivious to how my world is crashing down around us. “I was just about to tell you to check out the group chat.”

  I sit back in my seat with my phone still in my hand. I put on a relaxed expression, that fails to stop the colour in my face from draining.

  “What’s going on?” Chica asks looking around at me and then Dwayne, her confusion not stopping her from slipping her phone number in my back pocket.

  The door to the class suddenly opens, before two L.A.P.D. officers step in. Both of them familiar faces…

  “Good morning teacher.” The first of the two police men, Officer wrangler says.

  He’s a bull in human form. Massive with a body just as muscular as it is fat. His face is pink and pocked like a raw pork sausage, his brow ridge is like the edge of a cliff, his sockets two black caverns with tiny blue orbs hidden deep within. Hair hides from his rancid breath under the busted bookshelf he calls a chin. The rest of it on his head is the blood blonde colour of post kidney stone piss, patches of grey curl out from under his hat like fantom victims fleeing his hate filled imagination.

  He extends an arm towards Ms. Jefferson who smiles before giving him a handshake.

  “Good morning officers, feel free to ask anything as long as I don’t find it inappropriate.” She says.

  Wrangler steps aside allowing the second officer to shake her hand.

  Jeff, or Officer Barry is a younger slimmer man with traces of teenage acne still lingering on his plain looking face. His clothes were straight and clearly ironed before he left his house, a stark contrast to the buffalo that is his colleague.

  He’s someone that prides himself on being morally upstanding. He’s not exactly condescending but delusional. He genuinely thinks the police are upholding law and order and not just another one of Los Angeles’s gangs. Aside from that there isn’t much to say about him. I could say a lot of nasty things about Wrangler though.

  “Sorry for the disturbance.” Wrangler roars, “we’d just like to ask you kids a few questions. We found a jersey jacket that likely belongs to one of the seniors from your school at the sight of the attack that took place last night.”

  The class is dead silent myself included.

  He continues. “Okay so first off we’d like to ask if you’ve overheard any rumour or chit chat that sounds suspicious over the past few weeks.”

  Everyone shakes their heads.

  “Have you seen any students, who have been acting out of the ordinary or showing signs of anti social behaviour?”

  We all shake our heads again.

  “Do you kids have any suggestions on who could have done it?”

  That was a desperate one.

  The class all shake their heads as Wrangler lets out a long suffering sigh.

  Jeff steps forward before explaining. “We will be leaving a small box in the canteen. Please write down the names of anyone you think could be responsible for blowing up the sign. Once you’ve done that just drop it in the box.”

  With that said the two officers were gone as quickly as they came.

  The bell also rang as the clock struck eight. Homeroom class had come to an end.

  How? How is it that a Jersey jacket was left at the scene? None of us had worn anything like that when we did the deed so how? My mind races as I continue to feign indifference.

  “Christopher can you help me find my maths class? I think we might be in the same one.” Chica says, as if that’s something I even remotely care about right now.

  I zoom out of class and march down the corridor without knowing where I’m going. Trevor, he was the senior and a member of the football team. He can be the only one of us in possession of the school jersey jacket. But he had worn an all black fit like the rest of us so how did it end up at the scene? There are two possibilities. One is that an unknown senior had wandered on to the scene even before or after we blue up the sign and left the jacket behind. The second possibility is that Trevor had his jersey with him but we just didn’t notice.

  Either way it’s likely that they’ll extract some kind of DNA from the jacket within the next three days. If Trevor gets arrested and cracks under interrogation then… wait, there’s still no reason for them to think multiple people did it. So maybe I can calm down a bit. If they conclude that he was a lone wolf then that sucks for him I guess. At least the rest of us will be safe.

  Seeing that I’ve randomly wandered off into the main hall, I quickly turn to my maths class before my eyes are caught by a jock sitting on a couch right beside me.

  He seems to be weeping with his head hunched in his hands.

  There’s something odd about him, his hands are weirdly hairy and the hairs unnaturally thick.

  “I knew it!” He cries, “I knew it wouldn’t be over after shaving it off… why didn’t I go to the hospital?”

  “What the hell?” I mutter.

  It just came out. I don’t normally comment on random people like this but the sudden aggression in his voice caught me off guard.

  He suddenly raises his head to look at me and I know immediately what he’s whining about. There’s something seriously wrong with his face…

  Thick hair grows from every inch of his skin, it’s spaced way too far apart to look like fur and instead looks like a series of acupuncture needles protruding from all over, even his eyes.

  “Please… get the nurse” he begs, tears streaming down his face.

  “Why didn’t you go to the hospital instead of coming to school?” I question.

  He suddenly lunges at me with a frightening speed. I step back and he falls to his knees before grabbing on to my coat tails and staring up into my eyes. “I thought it would be over once I shaved, and for a moment it was… but a few minutes ago they just started sprouting everywhere and everywhere!”

  I can see it even closer now. These weren’t hairs, but spider legs!

  Long segmented needle like limbs were sprouting from this bastard’s skin and eyes in a disgusting manner. It’s the stuff of nightmares and I fight down the puke rising up my throat.

  This must’ve been the Jock Dashawn mentioned, the one that caught something vile after messing around with the septuplets. Fuck that I’m definitely not going to that party and I’ll be damned if I let Okimoto go.

  “Get off me!” I sneer, “I don’t know what’s wrong with you but you better not spread it to me.”

  Some spider legs wriggle and ones on his eyeballs seem to be whaling around and prying his eyes open. It’s seriously some of the freakiest shit I’ve ever seen.

  He lets go of my coat tails before grabbing on to my bare fucking arm.

  It takes me every ounce of my willpower to stop myself from swinging my bag off and pulling out my gun.

  “Please call an ambulance…” he continues to beg. “I tried calling them earlier but the spider legs make it impossible for me to handle my phone.”

  I feel the hairy spider legs dig into me and I swing my free arm blasting him in the face with a punch.

  He sprawls out over the floor and I immediately feel bad.

  “What’s going on?”

  “The hell?”

  Several kids approach the two of us having overheard the commotion.

  The jock slowly gets to his feet while groaning, his standing posture jagged from what I assume are spider legs growing out from the souls of his feet.

  He looks around at the rest of the kids terrified prompted several reactionary gasps. He looks back at me with tears streaming down his face before running off towards the back exit.

  “Oh my god what’s wrong with him?”

  “Fuck that shit I’m going home.”

  The other kids mutter among themselves.

  Not sure of what to think I break from the forming crowd and head for my maths class with a blank face. When I get home I’ll need to take a shower with holy water to wash off the gallon of hand sanitizer I’m about to use.