
If they're all out to get you, are you actually paranoid?
Hey, happy new semester! Now with three times as much social awkwardness and romantic oh-my-godness as the first one!
If this is actually true for me, I might as well go back and let those pygmies flay me alive and throw me into the volcano. Or whatever end they had planned for me. Because damn.
(I guess I could check out another pool car, but I've been reluctant to do so since the last time. They might say no.)
Bear in mind that I first attended high school at the beginning of my Senior Year. I still feel like I have attended far more assemblies than any human should be required to.
Seriously. There are probably international agreements signed in Switzerland that set standards around this. And, yeah, of course the United States isn't a signatory, but I plan to bitch about it anyways.
I am useless about this kind of thing.
Saturday night, hanging and chilling and just being real with the team, it was all good.
Here, Monday morning, running into Summer sitting next to Aria, with Leo next to Aria --
My head locks up with awkward.
She's seen me. She smiles and waves (because of course she smiles and waves, because she's wonderful and guileless and clueless and I did something awful to her and she's waving).
So running away is not an option. The seats up toward the front of the assembly (because of course I sit toward the front so of course Leo does, too) are filling up, so I end up next to Leo.
Because that's not awkward, either.
Mobile use at school is tightly restricted for some reason. Use at an assembly is strictly verboten.
Who's texting me?
I carefully, surreptitiously, pull out the phone. Glance down my leg at the hand-shrouded screen.
Jesus.
I haven't heard anything from Alycia in days, not since she vanished into the bowels of AEGIS without a fare-thee-well. For all I know, she's been rendited to some black site in Syria.
I've trusted Leo. He said he had the angle. He said he had this. I've assumed it's cool.
Getting the message, I realize I have a huge reservoir of not-cool bubbling up from the ground around me.
Where are you? What's going on? Are you okay? We need to talk about your dad. We need to talk about my dad. Are you still cool about the whole memory zipper thing? Are we okay, you and me? Do you want to --
I am not rational about Alycia Chin. I don't know why.
I should answer her. I should talk to her. Wherever she is. She might need my help. She might need --
I slip the phone back into my pocket. If I do this, do this as I want to, I'm going to be that guy sitting there texting madly, face aglow from the screen, while the entire auditorium, students and teachers and principal-up-at-the-podium, stare at me, as I continue on, oblivious. With my fly open. Because of course.
She's with AEGIS. She's able to text me. Whatever's going on, it can wait a few minutes.
If Leo notices my antsiness, he doesn't say anything. Even if he doesn't, he still doesn't say anything. Is he okay? Are we cool?
At last, the speech ends, and I pull out my (very cool) Qphone and text her back.
And, after a moment:
How does she know I'm at an assembly? Am I being remotely monitored? Is she actually --
I look around. There's just a mass of students, milling out of the auditorium. My eyes drift up to the sound room, the light bars, even though I really don't think (really!) she's up in the rafters with a sniper rifle.
Really.
Jesus W. Christ in a dirigible, what the hell is wrong with you?
Well, hell, I dunno -- I'm waiting on tenterhooks for the opportunity to recode my brain and merge my memories with the girl I inexplicably love and who's publicly threatened to kill me for nine of the last twelve months. What's to be overwound about?
It's time for class. I make a non-committal set of farewells to Leo, and Aria, and Summer (always being very careful to get their names right), and head up the long, poorly-pitched stairs to the top of the auditorium.
Hey, happy new semester! Now with three times as much social awkwardness and romantic oh-my-godness as the first one!
* * *
I have lost count of how many adults have told me that high school was the best days of their lives.If this is actually true for me, I might as well go back and let those pygmies flay me alive and throw me into the volcano. Or whatever end they had planned for me. Because damn.
* * *
And thank you, once again, Dad, for designing the Qdiscs to be just that much wider than the standard US parking space. Not that you ever anticipated I would be riding one to school. Except that, yeah, for all the not-blending-in that riding a hypertech hovercraft to high school entails, it's a hell of a lot better than being dropped off by a Quill towncar.(I guess I could check out another pool car, but I've been reluctant to do so since the last time. They might say no.)
1. The Assembly
Instead of normal first period, we have a Start of The Semester Assembly.Bear in mind that I first attended high school at the beginning of my Senior Year. I still feel like I have attended far more assemblies than any human should be required to.
Seriously. There are probably international agreements signed in Switzerland that set standards around this. And, yeah, of course the United States isn't a signatory, but I plan to bitch about it anyways.
* * *
Summer is here.I am useless about this kind of thing.
Saturday night, hanging and chilling and just being real with the team, it was all good.
Here, Monday morning, running into Summer sitting next to Aria, with Leo next to Aria --
My head locks up with awkward.
She's seen me. She smiles and waves (because of course she smiles and waves, because she's wonderful and guileless and clueless and I did something awful to her and she's waving).
So running away is not an option. The seats up toward the front of the assembly (because of course I sit toward the front so of course Leo does, too) are filling up, so I end up next to Leo.
Because that's not awkward, either.
* * *
My left thigh vibrates. It's the phone in the left upper cargo pocket. Mobile use at school is tightly restricted for some reason. Use at an assembly is strictly verboten.
Who's texting me?
I carefully, surreptitiously, pull out the phone. Glance down my leg at the hand-shrouded screen.
Hello hero
Jesus.
I haven't heard anything from Alycia in days, not since she vanished into the bowels of AEGIS without a fare-thee-well. For all I know, she's been rendited to some black site in Syria.
I've trusted Leo. He said he had the angle. He said he had this. I've assumed it's cool.
Getting the message, I realize I have a huge reservoir of not-cool bubbling up from the ground around me.
Where are you? What's going on? Are you okay? We need to talk about your dad. We need to talk about my dad. Are you still cool about the whole memory zipper thing? Are we okay, you and me? Do you want to --
I am not rational about Alycia Chin. I don't know why.
I should answer her. I should talk to her. Wherever she is. She might need my help. She might need --
I slip the phone back into my pocket. If I do this, do this as I want to, I'm going to be that guy sitting there texting madly, face aglow from the screen, while the entire auditorium, students and teachers and principal-up-at-the-podium, stare at me, as I continue on, oblivious. With my fly open. Because of course.
She's with AEGIS. She's able to text me. Whatever's going on, it can wait a few minutes.
* * *
The speech from the Principal goes on forever. It's probably more like forty minutes than forever, but Einstein had a fun quote about relativity, and it so applies here.If Leo notices my antsiness, he doesn't say anything. Even if he doesn't, he still doesn't say anything. Is he okay? Are we cool?
At last, the speech ends, and I pull out my (very cool) Qphone and text her back.
Hey
And, after a moment:
Sssshhh no texting during the assembly
How does she know I'm at an assembly? Am I being remotely monitored? Is she actually --
I look around. There's just a mass of students, milling out of the auditorium. My eyes drift up to the sound room, the light bars, even though I really don't think (really!) she's up in the rafters with a sniper rifle.
Really.
Jesus W. Christ in a dirigible, what the hell is wrong with you?
Well, hell, I dunno -- I'm waiting on tenterhooks for the opportunity to recode my brain and merge my memories with the girl I inexplicably love and who's publicly threatened to kill me for nine of the last twelve months. What's to be overwound about?
It's time for class. I make a non-committal set of farewells to Leo, and Aria, and Summer (always being very careful to get their names right), and head up the long, poorly-pitched stairs to the top of the auditorium.