From the Indie Side by Indie Side Publishing

He was hoping for Englo-Bio, but got Poli-Theism
instead.
    He groaned to himself. Not only did he hate
politics, he could never tell the Roman and Greek gods apart. He
tried his hardest to stay out of third grade, but it was no use.
The political structure of Mars made even less sense to him than
Earth’s. And why teach this stuff anyway? It’d be eight years
before he could vote!
    He read the questions and typed in his best
guesses, his concentration waning and waxing.
    Had he known recess was up next, he would
have at least enjoyed the opportunity to breathe freely,
unmolested.
     
    * *
*
     
    At the end of the Poli-Theism lesson, Cort’s
morning report flashed up, along with a list of the people it would
be sent to. He wondered if his mom would be one of those doting and
bored parents, waiting on the real-time status update for
everything their spawn was up to.
    He looked at his dismal performance and hoped
the report would get flagged as spam and never be delivered. In a
smaller window, an instructor popped up and informed them that it
was recess, a map underneath him showing directions to the
gymnasium.
    Cort immediately felt the urge to use the
suction potty. He wondered if he could just stay in the pod, if
anyone would notice. The sight of the three cameras mounted on the
testing wall provided the answer. Not a good idea.
    He took a deep breath and inserted the tube,
trying not to think about breathing through his nose. The door
behind him popped open on its own; he turned around to see the
opposite wall disgorging a line of students. In the pod directly
across, a mane of blond hair spilled around a face—a face as pretty
as one can be with a tube pumping oxygenated fluid into it.
    Cort smiled, but the flash of niceness was
lost in a sea of passing kids. He waited for the flow to weaken
before moving out into the hall and trailing along with the other
stragglers.
    The games were already underway when he
arrived in the gym. The sounds of metal clashing against metal
drifted up from the pit, the kids along the balcony leaning forward
to look down through the glass.
    The upper level looked completely full, so
Cort followed some kids heading down a flight of stairs. They came
out in an identical room—a large, rectangular donut of a balcony
overlooking the gym’s pit—and the kids ahead of him took the few
remaining spaces.
    One of those spaces was right beside a wild
mane of blond hair. Cort felt his heart thumping in his chest. The
girl turned, shifting her chair over, as another boy took the space
beside her.
    Once again, their eyes locked. Cort felt his
breathing constrict even more. He started to wave, but someone
knocked into his back, sending him sprawling forward. Scrambling to
his feet, he rushed to join the kids moving down another level, his
cheeks burning with embarrassment.
    The nearby spots were already taken on the
lowest level. That was fine with Cort; he wanted to sit on the
other side. He fought the urge to run, and shuffled as fast as he
could, working his way around the balcony. He ignored the clashing
of the large robots beyond the glass.
    On the other side, he took one of the empty
spots directly across from the girl. He could look up through the
glass and see her blond hair waving as she concentrated on the
action below.
    He had to tear his eyes away to view the
action. Dozens of robots clashed across the parquet floor of the
gym, each one controlled by a team of kids.
    He looked at his controls. He’d been assigned
to the green team, left leg. Cort saw his robot immediately, but
the lower-level seat meant it was hard to gauge the overall action.
He grabbed both his sticks and the AI relinquished control of the
green bot’s left leg, handing it over to him. Pushing and pulling
on the two sticks, he did his part to keep the thing upright,
watching his display for instructions from whoever controlled the
head.
    The stress and exertion forced him to hold
the tube with his teeth, breathing around