A/N: In the U.S., a magnet school is a public school that specializes in certain subjects like medical science, theater, etc. Parents can choose to send their kids to a magnet school instead of the local high school if they feel like their children aren't being challenged enough or if the kid wants to study a certain subject more in-depth.

Chapter Twelve: Just Below the Surface

4:03 P.M.

At first glance, the carpet in Principal Geller's office appears dark blue. Solid dark blue. However, upon closer inspection, it's easy to see that red, yellow, white and even pink threads have also been woven in, creating a subtle pattern that no one ever notices unless they look very closely…which no one ever does.

On Friday, March 23, 1984, someone finally noticed. Brian had been sitting in the principal's office for about thirty minutes, staring at the floor and taking deep, slow breaths, when he noticed a small yellow thread poking out above the dark field of carpet that surrounded it. Under normal circumstances, he might not have cared much about random colored carpet threads, but Friday wasn't an ordinary day.

The principal had been gone for more than twenty minutes, but Brian didn't know where he'd gone. If he'd spent a few seconds thinking about it, he might have come to the conclusion that Mr. Geller was either talking with one of the fire fighters about the explosion or meeting with Mr. Vernon to discuss suitable punishments for the boy who had caused it. In fact, he could have been thinking about any number of things, like the smell of charred paper coming from his burned-out locker or the panicked expression on Elliot's face when the gun went off. However, Brian hadn't thought about much of anything since he'd taken his seat, with the notable exception of one yellow-colored piece of string. Maybe it was because there was so much going on around him and his brain couldn't choose. Maybe it was because he found it easier to think about random carpet patterns than his mother's angry expression. Maybe. But more than likely, it was just because he was scared.

At 4:13, exactly ten minutes after Brian discovered that yellow thread in Principal Geller's dark blue carpet, the office door swung open.

"You…are in big trouble, young man."

4:04 P.M.

Claire called her father at his office as soon as she arrived home, but was informed by his secretary that he was in a meeting and couldn't be interrupted unless it was an emergency. While she felt that her situation was, in fact, an emergency, Claire knew that she couldn't do that to him. Instead, she left a message with the secretary asking her father to call her at home when the meeting was over.

It was a few minutes after four o'clock by the time he got back to her. "Sweetheart? Is everything alright?"

Claire sighed into the phone. "No."

"What's wrong, honey? Did the credit card go through? If they had a problem with you using it, I can give them a call and-"

"No, the credit card worked fine." Claire hesitated. "But I got a detention today."

Mr. Standish paused. "A detention? What for?"

Claire cringed. "I left school during sixth period to go shopping." Before her father could say anything, she hurried on. "But I only missed one class, and we weren't doing anything important, so I thought it would be okay. I just knew that I would get stuck in traffic if I tried to go to the mall tonight, and I wanted to be able to give you your credit card back in case you needed to use it." Claire stopped talking and took a deep breath, hoping he wouldn't see through her lies.

He didn't. "Well, honey, that's sweet of you, but you didn't need to worry about me. I don't need the card back right away."

"Well, I wasn't sure, so…" She cleared her throat. "But they gave me a detention, Daddy. I can't go."

"Why not?"

Claire's jaw dropped. "Detention is for people who do drugs and…get in fights and…" She paused, searching for the right words. "All I did was go shopping. I don't deserve a detention!"

Mr. Standish sighed. "I know you don't, sweetheart, but what can I do about it? They've already given it to you."

"You could call them."

"Call who?"

"Principal Geller…or Mr. Vernon. Just explain to them that I don't need to be there. I've learned my lesson."

Mr. Standish sighed. "Alright. I'll call them."

Claire smiled. "Thank you, Daddy."

"I'm not promising anything, but I'll try. We'll see what they say, alright?"

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. I'll see you later, sweetheart. Tell your mother I'll be a little bit late for dinner."

Claire rolled her eyes. "Okay, I will. Bye."

"Goodbye."

Claire hung up the phone and released a deep sigh. This better work.

4:06 P.M.

On Friday afternoon, Allison took the bus home from school. Her parents were both working, and her sister Danielle went to a magnet school on the other side of town and didn't get home until nearly four o'clock. Allison absolutely hated taking the bus; all of the yelling and laughing and moving around made her feel a bit claustrophobic…sort of like being stuck inside of a crowded classroom, only worse.

When she got home, she went up to her room to listen to music for a little while. At about 4:00, she felt her stomach growl and decided that she wanted something to eat. She left the music turned on and went downstairs to the kitchen, where Jenny and Michelle were eating cookies at the table.

Michelle looked up as she swallowed a mouthful of cookie. "Hi."

Allison sat down and let her eyes flicker over the plate of cookies next to Jenny's elbow. Michelle must have noticed because she pushed the plate of cookies to the center of the table so that Allison could reach them. "Mom made them."

Allison didn't respond, just picked up one of the cookies and stuffed the entire thing into her mouth at once. A few crumbs fell from her lips as she chewed, but she hardly noticed. After finishing her first cookie, she took two more from the plate and polished them off in the same way. Michelle watched her eat, but didn't say anything until Allison had swallowed her last cookie.

"Why do you do that?"

Allison looked up at her younger sister, who was watching her curiously. Allison didn't say anything. She grabbed another cookie from the plate and pushed the entire thing into her mouth. Michelle kept watching her for a moment, then looked away and took another sip of her milk.

Suddenly, the front door opened and slammed shut again. Allison heard fast, angry footsteps on the stairs, then the sound of another door slamming somewhere. Michelle put down her cookie and looked over at Allison. "What's wrong with her?"

Allison just stared at her younger sister for a moment, then stood up from her chair, walked out of the kitchen and went upstairs. Her music had been turned off, and Allison could hear someone rummaging around in the room she shared with Danielle.

"…happened right after school."

Allison stopped when she was a couple of feet away from the doorway and peered around the corner. Danielle had the phone pressed up against her ear, and was walking around the room, dragging the cradle with her. "No, he waited until I'd dropped him off."

Allison almost opened her mouth to announce her presence, but stopped when Danielle said, "Of course he waited! What was he going to do, break up with me and then ask for a ride?"

Allison froze, her fingers tightening around the door jam.

Danielle sighed, picked one of Allison's shirts up off of the floor and threw it onto Allison's bed. "Why do you think he did it? He's horny, and I won't sleep with him, so he's gonna find someone who will." Danielle paused, listening to her friend's response. "Not in so many words, no, but he might as well have. He said he needed to focus more on his grades." She scoffed. "Yeah, right," she said bitterly.

Allison swallowed deeply, but didn't move. Even though the rest of her family loved him, she'd always hated Jason. He extremely smart, but he was also an arrogant jackass. The only things he ever talked about when he came over for dinner were his SAT scores and the various scholarships he'd been offered by top-notch universities. Allison had always hoped that the two of them would break up, if only so that she wouldn't have to hear him drone on and on about the perks of being a National Merit Finalist, but she'd also hoped that Danielle would be the one to do it.

"It's okay. I'm sure he'll find someone slut who will sleep with him. Someone that isn't a prude like me." Danielle threw another skirt onto Allison's bed. "Maybe it'll be Kate McManus. She'll fuck any guy with a pulse."

Allison's mind was racing, but she remained silent. She watched Danielle gather a large pile of clothing from the floor and hurl it onto Allison's bed.

"No, I'm not upset about it," said Danielle. She paused, listening. "Really, I'm not. He's an asshole. I get it now, alright? I'm not going to give him the satisfaction of crying over him like some stupid, love-sick bimbo." With that, she threw one of Allison's socks across the room and collapsed onto her own bed. After a moment, she sighed. "Yes, I promise I'm okay." She paused, then shut her eyes. "Okay, but I won't need to. I'll be fine on my own…okay, bye." Then Danielle hung up the phone and burst into tears.

Allison had never been so surprised in her whole life. Danielle wasn't a crier. No one in her family was, for that matter, but Allison had never seen Danielle cry in her entire life, even when she'd fallen out of the tree in their front yard and broken her arm in two places. To see her break down over some jerk like Jason? Before she realized what she was doing, Allison stepped into the room. "Are you okay?"

Danielle looked up, her cheeks stained with tears. "What are you doing in here?"

Allison paused uncertainly. "I…"

"How long have you been standing there?" Danielle's eyes narrowed. "Were you eavesdropping?"

Allison hesitated, and Danielle stood from the bed and took a step towards her younger sister. "Get out! Just get out!"

Allison didn't know what to say, so she did as she was told and stepped out into the hall. Danielle didn't even look at her, just slammed the door shut, leaving Allison alone in the hallway and locked out of her own room.

4:10 P.M.

As soon as Mr. Geller left the Vice Principal's office to speak with Brian Johnson's mother, Richard Vernon yanked open his bottom desk drawer, reached past the pencils and the paper clips, and pulled a package of cigarettes out from the very back of the drawer.

No one knew that Vernon smoked, not even his wife. He'd been doing it since college, but he hadn't ever told anyone about it, partially because he didn't do it very often and partially because he didn't want to hear about the various forms of cancer that he was probably going to die from if he didn't quit. What those people didn't know is that he probably would have died of a heart attack a long time ago if he hadn't had something to calm him down on days when all the forces of the universe seemed to be working against him. Days like Friday, March 23, 1984.

Vernon struck a match against the side of his desk and lit the cigarette. The first time he'd ever smoked in his office, he'd accidentally set the fire alarm off and had been forced to explain to half a dozen office workers and three very curious students why he'd felt it necessary to burn his old memos when most people just throw them in the garbage can. The next day, he'd locked his office door, stood on top of his desk, and spent the next thirty minutes trying to figure out how to dismantle a fire alarm.

Seven years later, the fire department still hadn't noticed.

When Vernon was finished with his cigarette, he didn't put it out right away. Instead, he pulled the plastic trash bag out of his trash barrel and placed it on the floor a couple feet away. Then he took one final drag from the cigarette, picked up a piece of paper from the corner of his desk, and held it over the empty metal can. He pushed the lit end of the cigarette against the names that he'd written one at a time only hours before. It took a couple of minutes for the paper to finally catch fire, but when it did, he let go of the corner and watched it fall into the metal can, where he let it burn until there was nothing left of it but a smoldering pile of ashes.

Smug little pricks.

A/N: Thank you for all of the feedback. I really appreciate it. Also, we'll catch up with Bender in the next chapter.