One of the problems with biology is being biological.
Being biological means that you have to do biological things.
Like go to the bathroom.
New building that it was, Merston High's main hallway was not only brightly lit and easy to maintain, it was long.
As in waaaaaaaaayyyyy too long when the bathroom for some stupid reason, happened to be on the other end of the hallway from AP Literature and Film.
This was only an issue because Josie didn't want to miss Ms. Morgandoffer's Conrad's The Heart of Darkness contrasted with Coppola's Apocalypse Now slide presentation so it all boiled down to either dissecting the evils of European Colonialism, or wetting herself.
(Unfortunate for Coppola and Conrad, but fortunately for Josie's dignity and Josie's pink and white Hello Kitty mini-skirt, the call of nature won.)
Teetering on the brink of a flat out sprint, Josie rapidly passed the open door of Ms. Nix's classroom in a clatter of ankle boots. Loudly singing a song about boogers not being raisins, the weird but funny kid, Narancia was passing out Kleenexes to the rest of the class.
Ohhhhhhh, the paaaaaaiiiiiiiinnnn!
She dodged a pod of mer-kids racing wheelchairs on their way to the school pool.
Gotta go! Gotta GO! GOTTA GO!
She veered around Ghoulia – who was slow but somehow the smartest kid in the entire school only to freeze mid-scurry, hearing loud screams and thuds down the endless hall ahead of her.
Gotta— what the hell was going on? Ooooooh, gotta go – but it can wait!
Forgetting the "No Running!" rule, the dark-skinned girl with pink dreads shot into the bathroom just ahead of Principal Bucciaratti, who was sprinting towards the chemistry lab next to the girl's and "others" bathroom, Uncle Mike and SRO Abbaccio right behind him.
Minutes later she emerged from the can, bladder and slide show presentation forgotten.
The screams were now accompanied by the sound of shattering glass as a bunch of frightened kids were herded out of the classroom by SRO Abbaccio, followed by Uncle Mike, who was steering a screaming red-faced boy with wild strawberry blond hair out of the trashed lab and into the hall where the principal held open the door to the nearest panic room.
Behind Uncle Mike and the thrashing boy, Mr. Kujo, the very large science teacher who taught Josie's third period AP Biology class, stood in the ruins of his lab, head tipped back, pressing a wad of tissues to his nose, blood dribbling down his neatly pressed white lab coat and soaking his black shirt.
Josie stepped aside as a flustered Ms. Goode shot from her office, "Officer Schmidt, I've warned you befor—eeeeeeeeeeeeek!" the Diversity Counselor squealed when one of the boy's flailing hands knocked her glasses off only to step on them with a crunch that was lost in the boy's shrieks. Goode gave out another squeal when one of strawberry blond's motorcycle-booted feet caught her in the shins, toppling the dowdy woman so that Uncle Mike had to step over her while half-releasing half-launching the boy into the padded, sky-blue room.
Thud! Principal Bucciaratti slammed the sound-proof door shut, abruptly cutting off the howls and shrieks of an epic melt-down.
"Whew! At least you didn't have to taser him this time." Leaning against the violently shaking door, the principal wiped sweat out of his eyes with one well-manicured hand in the sudden silence, "Ms. Goode, you're the Diversity Counselor. Once the school nurse has checked you over, call his parents. (Not that it will do any good.)"
"Holy shit!" SRO Abbaccio strode towards them, pulling out a report form and pen as a squinting, weepy Ms. Goode was led back to her office by Mr. Aiken, the assistant school nurse, "Haven't seen a freakout like that since I worked L.A.'s crystal scene – Kujo, what set the kid off?"
"Fugo, Panacotta Fugo. I forgot…" Mr. Kujo said, allowing Miss Toppan, the school nurse, to steer him to one of the surviving chairs by the nose, "…and touched him on the shoulder to let him know that it was his turn to give his presentation an… ow-ow-ow, I tink by dose is broken…" He exclaimed when the big woman with the face of a cherub applied fresh pressure, adding once she relaxed her grip, "… then he went off like a bomb! Good grief…"
"Okay. That just fuckin' happened!" Josie exclaimed under her breath in the little drinking fountain alcove next to the panic room. She pulled out a bedazzled pocket-sized notebook and hastily scribbled "Mr. Kujo. BAD nosebleed!", then, "Ms. Goode. Broken glasses.", and then "Fugo. Blond. Angry." she studied the ruined lab, before adding, "Human tornado. RAD?"
"Abbaccio, your turn to handle the incident report." Uncle Mike said, unclipping his two-way from its shoulder mount. "Principal Bucciaratti, we let it slide last time. But now there's an injured staffer PLUS property damage."
Staring up at the ceiling, Mr. Kujo nodded, a fresh gusher escaping down his coat as the nurse shifted her grip on his nose, "I hate to bring species into this, but I think it has something to do with his heritage."
"What is he?" Uncle Mike asked in a flat voice, large thumb hovering over the PTT button.
The principal scowled at Mr. Kujo, giving his dark bobbed head a warning shake. Mr. Kujo scowled back, and then said, looking at his boss, "Good grief, confidentiality's the law, but some stuff you need to know."
The two men locked eyes, and then the principal gave an almost imperceptible nod saying, "This is strictly off the record. ADA's one thing, but we legally can't violate the Species Confidentiality Act, so, I didn't hear a thing. Go ahead, Mr. Kujo."
"Right. Off the record, but I went to UCLA with his parents. Werewolf." Mr. Kujo mumbled.
Ooooh,werewolf! But where are his fangs? Shouldn't he have a ruff? Josie thought, adding this to her notes. Her uncle silently mouthed the word, a puzzled look on his face.
"Brilliant kid, anger management issues, could graduate anytime he wants." Mr. Kujo paused before nasally adding, "Does a lot of after-school tutoring."
"Anger management issues? Yeah, right!" Abbaccio grumbled without looking up from the incident form, "Probably has a record as long as my arm if this is how he handles it during a full moon." Large sunglasses glinting, the pale officer signed the document before passing it to Mr. Kujo, "Sign at the "x" once you think I got it all down."
The principal intercepted the clip board, "Later, Jotaro. After you've cleaned yourself up. Yes, werewolf. Officer Schmidt, Fugo's a good kid, brilliant, straight A+. I hate to put this latest incident on his permanent record. But like you said, an injured staff member and property damage."
Realizing this was none of her business, a blushing Josie abruptly pocketed her notepad. Back to Conrad and Coppola and forget about what she'd just seen.
Exhausted, Fugo shakily pulled himself up off the padded floor of the panic room in the afterglow of an all too public meltdown.
Humiliated, he wiped his snot-smeared face on one of his green sleeves, eyes raw. Hardly a month in PUBLIC school, and he'd blown it in front of everybody' all because a teacher touched him without warning him first.
Imagined laughter of his parents ringing in his ears, Fugo patted himself down as his mother screamed, "Useless!" in the silence of his head as his father turned away, clearly disappointed.
He growled. Juul, Juul, where was his Juul?
Fuck!
Broken!
He needed a hit.
Bad.
Real bad.
Feeling even more alone than usual, Fugo crouched rocking, running his fingers through the sweaty tangle of his hair, trying to put the broken pieces of himself back together without the soothing glue of a cinnamon vape.