We woke, annoyingly, at 7:55 to the morning bell.
Thursday mornings had never been met with a more irritating thing than that long-ass bell.
I passed on the message to keep down and keep silent to the flock; probably unnecessarily, but all the same, I didn't want to seem like I didn't care. Cracking my cupboard, peeking out.
A boy about 5"8 with dark red hair flopping over black eyes and a creamy, freckled pallor was munching a poptart at the back table on the right. He had a small bottle of hot sauce sticking out of his jeans pocket. Weirdo.
The girl sitting with him at the heavy black table was short and curvy; she had thick rimmed glasses tinted purple and bright, wide blue eyes. Her dirty blond hair pulled back in a long ponytail flung when she tossed her head back and laughed, snorts and all.
There were three columns of tables, with five tables in each column.
I shut the door again. Mostly girls in that class. No guys – though one did growl when people talked to him. Scary, if you ask me.
I could hear Gazzy whispering to Iggy details about the hottest girls. I hoped he wasn't suffering too bad of a hang-over.
Nudge busied herself blocking bug holes with toilet paper in her cabinet.
Angel just sat quietly. That was when she scared me the most.
During the teacher's planning period we waited until her footsteps retreated to the teachers lounge down the hall and cued the others it was safe to roam around and stretch.
Gazzy, Nudge and Iggy went out for a flight, and Angel went around admiring the rocks. Determined to keep an eye on her, I squatted down and read the wooden table legs.
'KKK' jumped out at me. Was that another evil organization of evil children-hating scientists? Who was 'Yo Mamma?' And what the heck was 'BAMF?'
Shrugging, I rose as gum caught my eye under the table and I drifted away from them. Gross.
I found the red haired kid's bottle of hot sauce. It was palm-sized, and as I weighed it in my hand, I took a small swig. A look between disgust and disbelief screwed my face up. Who could stand this on any kind of food? It was grotesque.
Almost like – I looked down at the label. It was peeling at the edges, and something shone white beneath it. Lifting it up, I blinked. An Acid Reflux medication? Why was he hiding it in a hot sauce bottle? I replaced it in the bundle of his jacket on the counter beside his desk.
I'd watch and see.
Suddenly, Angel gasped and grabbed at my sleeve. My heart leapt and as my adrenaline spiked, I looked down at her in alarm, "What, what is it, Angel?"
Angel's face broke out into a sweet smile, and I relaxed only a smidge. "Can I get a rock like that one, Max?" She was pointing at a round gray rock labeled 'granite' with a funny looking gem on the inside, which was visible 'cause the rock lay in half. The funny thing about it was the gem was dark indigo, which, the card beneath it read, was unusual for granite.
Angel glanced at my confused face. "It's radioactive quartz," she explained.
I frowned. "We can look in a safer place later for a rock just like it, sweety," I said soothingly, my eyes wandering as she zipped off to look at more gems.
I traveled over the scattered books left behind absently along the counters above the cupboards, the microscopes stored in a glass case, a dark haired guy through the window…
WHOA.
W
H
O
A.
My turn to gasp. Shock froze me on the spot.