The Prequel to Aperture
Chapter 2: Caroline
Who's this guy? He's just storming in the classroom. He looks unamused. He addresses the teacher, who is looking down on a bunch of papers on his desk. "Oh, we have a newcomer." The teacher asks this brown-haired guy to introduce himself. "This is Cave Johnson." He said. "Oh great," The teacher replied, "Cave, why don't you take a seat next to this girl named Caroline." Crap. It's me. "Caroline, put up your hand." Cave ordered, "I needa see you." Why is he ordering me? Anyways, I raised my hand. He saw me and raised his eyebrows. He looks surprised, shocked maybe. There's a vacant seat to the right of mine. He stumbles onto it. "My name is Caroline." I reach my hand out for a shake. He looks at me with great enthusiasm. "It's Cave…Cave Johnson." He stutters, and shook my hand. His hand felt cold.
"Uh… let's get started." I tried to steer it out. She is pretty as a postcard. Maybe in an academy with no elevators isn't so bad after all. This moment of silence is broken after the teacher starts talking about momentum. But I have no interest in hearing it. I'm still digesting this happiness my mind gave me with the appearance of Caroline. I lower my head onto my desk. Maybe listening to the teacher will probably make things better.
He's fine. I still don't get why he had such a shock. But he's calm after that. Not terrible. Only a little weird. Maybe he just want to be friends with me. How about I took the initiative and instead ask him to be my friend? It should be fine. "You'll need to write an essay about Momentum." The teacher chimed. And suddenly, I felt cold, and no matter how many essays I wrote prior for this very first official one, I still have no idea. What should I do?
After the classes I invited Caroline downstairs for a break. We settled on the grass just outside the main facility. "How should I write my essay?" she asked. Then what my father taught me re-surfaces in my mind. Do it from scratch, spare no expense, and never, ever, cut corners. "I just can't do it!" she said, "no matter how many times I practiced…" Do it from scratch, my mind reminds me. "How about throw everything out the window and do it from scratch?" I suggested. "That's brilliant!" she commented, "Let's just start over on the essay!" She smiled at me.