Before I begin I just want to say that everything in this chapter (of course, with the exception of the Torchwood characters as my teachers) is pretty much true. Including the speech at the bottom- not one of my finer moments when I gave it in reality, but one of my finer moments in the world of fiction.

The International Baccalaureate

Chapter Two: The LRC

'LRC' stood for 'Learning Resources Centre', a poshed-up way of saying 'The Library'. It was an enormous room filled with bookcases, desks, chairs, computers and a few ports where you could listen to the audio books of what you were studying. When I first saw it, I was in heaven, but Mariam refused to let up since I walked out of the History classroom.

"... I could so tell that he has the hots for you!" she concluded as we came up to the front desk where a man with black hair and deep blue eyes was standing, sorting through a couple of books. I chanced a peek at the front cover of one of them "Mathematical Studies- SL" Terrific. I pulled out my ID card and showed it to the librarian- a woman of around sixty with her white hair pulled back into a ponytail. I quickly made my way over to the nearest desk and pulled out my A5 notebook. I sat down and opened it to the front page where I had listed the possibilities for my Extended Essay:

Hitler's Private Library

Review of "Pride and Prejudice"

Anthropological comparison of Emily Dickinson poems

I looked at the small list as Mariam sat across from me.

"I thought you started your Essay after you finished your GCSE coursework!" She said, shocked. "What did you say it was going to be about? Winston Churchill or some other war geezer?"

"Churchill's life before the Second World War." I said blankly. "But since I got two A*'s in English and a B in my favourite subject, I've felt kind of, well, indifferent to History."

"Says the girl who 'just knew' what the Falklands Conflict was!" She smiled. I glared at her. She gasped. "Don't let Mr. Harkness hear you say you're indifferent to History! He'll never forgive you!"

"Are you quite finished?" I asked softly. "Unlike you, my mind works in ten-thousand different ways, and since I have six subjects to study for, two essays to complete, a T.O.K. presentation to give, and the C.A.S., that equals to one-thousand ways that my mind can go for everything. You may not have noticed, but pissing about is going to get neither of us anywhere, so we may as well make a start on the Extended Essay while we are sure of what we want it to be about!"

Mariam was looking at me with a weird gaze. For a moment, I thought that I had been shouting, but when I looked around I saw that it was just us, the Maths Studies teacher and the librarian- both of whom were having a quiet chat at the desk. I turned back to my friend. "What?"

"Geez, Hannah, I was just thinking that you shouldn't be a teacher!" She said, pulling out her notebooks.

"We've been through this," I said. "If I do any other job, I won't feel like I'm making a different because I won't see the people I'm helping."

"You could see the people you're helping if you became a politician." She smiled.

"Why would I want to become a politician?" I asked, taking offence. "Given the current stigma, I would not be comfortable as a politician. Just because I'm morally strong that doesn't mean I won't cave in and use taxpayer money for every little thing I need like the rest of them!"

"Yeah, but you've got so many ideas, Hannah." She said, as though trying to convince me that politics was the best career choice in the world. She stretched, pulling her arms up over her head then lowering them to the table. "You get really passionate about things, and you speak so passionately about current issues like immigration. Remember back at HAB when you read in the paper about how religious schools will have the right to preach out against and encourage hatred towards homosexuality? Everyone else except for you, I, Emma and Miss Williamson was agreeing with that article. Whereas us three were too nervous to argue against them, you stood up and gave that speech."

"What speech?" Asked a Welshman. We both looked up and saw the Maths Studies teacher hovering over us. "Pardon me for being nosy," he apologised. "I enjoy a good speech by the everyman, or, in your cases, everywoman." He smiled at us then held his hand out to me and introduced himself as Mr. Jones- he would be teaching Mathematical Studies this year. Mariam offered him a seat next to me. Before I could protest, he sat next to me and unbuttoned his black-and-white pinstripe suit coat and hung it off the back off his chair, revealing a black waistcoat, a white shirt and a black tie. "So," he said. "Tell me more about this speech that was given."

"Well," Mariam cut in. "Hannah here read an article in The Guardian which basically said that religious schools now have the right to preach against and encourage hatred towards homosexuality. Everyone else was agreeing with it, but she, I, a teacher and another student weren't. Me, the teacher and the student were too nervous to speak against them, but Hannah stood up and started talking about how wrong it is that religions are preaching that something is wrong just because of what's in a book."

Mr. Jones made a noise, showing that he was interested. He looked at me and smiled. I remained stoic. "Do you remember any of this speech you gave, Hannah?" He asked.

Again, Mariam cut in before I could speak; "Of course she does! She's got a terrific memory! She practically memorised the whole dictionary the first time she looked at it!" Mr. Jones smiled at me again. Why the fuck is everybody smiling so much?

"Whenever you're ready." He said, intrigued. I gave a hateful glare to Mariam and took a deep breath, preparing for the worst as I recited the speech I gave in November of last year;

"Two thousand years ago, the Bible was written. It was far longer and more detailed than the two-thousand page sleeping pill we know and love today. About three-hundred years later, Emperor Constantine edited the Bible, to give us to modern-day version. Over periods of time, the Bible has gone from Aramaic to Latin to Saxon to Celtic to English. That's two thousand pages going through five different languages; now tell me that there has never been a mistake made when a text is translated by one with hardly any expertise in a language, like the original Bible was translated by Latin-speakers with very little knowledge of Aramaic. This means that some of the commandments may not be commandments after all. This means that some of the original passages may not be true to 'the word of God' as the Bible is deemed to be. Proof of this is a papyrus of the Book of Revelations found in 2005, proving that 666 is not the 'Number of the Beast', as so often thought by many Christians today. This papyrus proved that the Number is in fact 616, and poses the question; 'can the Bible really be trusted after so many centuries?'

"I thought the Christianity was supposed to teach that everyone is equal, and that there should be peace between everyone. One of the Deadly Sins is Pride, and in my experience, all of the Christians I have met are over-proud, obnoxious twats who quite frankly need a lesson in open-mindedness. This just goes to show that these Christians are hypocrites, because they have, in my opinion, taken too much pride in their religion, and are therefore committing one a cardinal sin. That being said, how can anybody say that homosexuality is wrong and a sin, when many Christians are sinning by taking too much pride in their religion and when God created us to be unique, to love? Homosexuality is just another way of expressing one's love for another, and cannot be a sin when so many others are sinning in worse ways. Is not one of the commandments 'Thou shall not kill'? It is, and is number five on a list of ten, or perhaps a hundred- we cannot be sure.

"There is scientific proof that homosexuality is genetic, environmental and not just a choice as many have been brainwashed to believe. Many species of animals have exhibited signs of homosexuality, such as hamsters, guinea pigs, horses and dogs! If a girl is sexually abused by a man in early childhood, she is almost certain to become a lesbian because psychologically she is unable to trust men anymore. The same goes for boys, although this is a rare case for males, as it is more likely for a male to become homosexual without such provocation.

"Therefore, homosexuality is nothing to be hated, feared or avoided, but is something to be loved, welcomed and shared."

As I closed-off the speech, I heard clapping behind me. I looked back, as did Mariam and Mr. Jones, and saw a group of five students, all dressed smartly in shirts and jeans with red badges pinned to their chests, and one teacher with dark hair and gap in her front teeth. All six of them were clapping.

"Excellent!" The teacher said- she had a Welsh accent just like Mr. Jones.

God help me! I screamed inside my head as the teacher ran over to me.

"No running in the LRC!" The librarian called over just as the teacher knelt down to my level.

"Hello, I'm Mrs. Williams." She smiled, and I instantly felt uncomfortable. She motioned back to the five students. "I teach a Politics class as well as Law, and I couldn't help but overhear that remarkable argument you just gave!" She smiled wider, making me feel even more uncomfortable. My hands were beginning to sweat, along with my legs and bottom. "Might I ask what your name is?"

"Er..." I stuttered. Her smile softened as she finally saw my discomfort. "Hannah. Hannah Clark." I said.

"Well, Hannah," she said. I could tell what she was thinking. I just knew it. "A position has opened up in the Debate club, and I'm guessing you're a Politics student, aren't you? Why am I even asking? Of course you are! Nobody can argue that well!"

"Actually I'm an IB student." I said before she could say anything else.

"That's just as good," she said, backtracking slightly. "If not, then better! We need somebody on the Debate team who can argue like you just did. If you're interested, then pop by my room- Po36 in the Main Building- and we'll have a nice chat about it." With that, she left, and I was in a daze. I turned back to Mariam.

"What the hell just happened?" I asked.

"Language." Mr. Jones said sternly, then softened. "You were just asked by Mrs. Williams to join the Debate team, which, in my opinion, you would be perfect for if you're doing the IB. This could be your C.A.S., you know."

"Yes," I said vaguely. "Although I hate debating unless it's about topic I can be passionate about without having to force myself."

"It's still up to you, but, for the record," he gave me a sincere stare. "I'd gladly take you as my lawyer if I was ever being sued for something 'evil' relating to my orientation." He left as well, and left Mariam and me to our studying. I could feel her jealousy boiling away like a witch's cauldron. I looked at her and said; "What? I don't know if you've noticed, but I attract stuff like this! Do you really think I enjoy it? If you do, then quit thinking it, because I hate attracting stuff that I'm not interested in." She just smiled and bent her head over a notebook, and started scribbling. I followed suit and opened up a book of poetry. We stayed like that for a couple of hours, just reading and writing, until the bell rang and it was time for English.