“Watch it, mental case.”
Jill sticks her tongue out at Sarah, flicking it in a perverted gesture. Then she goes back to idly playing with her nose ring.
“Hey, Marty,” Sarah says. She’s not fazed at all by him pushing her and calling her names. “Turn around.”
He turns automatically, before he realizes he’s done her bidding.
Sarah presses a button on the side of her robot helmet. A little red light flickers to life in the middle of her forehead. She looks him up and down, pausing at his crotch, a slow smile spreading over her face. “That’s what I thought.”
Marty mutters about how they shouldn’t have to put up with people like her, and he and Jill take their places with the rest of their group.
Sarah sits down next to me. She folds her hands together on her desk and grins.
Mrs. Log jumps when she enters the classroom and catches sight of Sarah’s headgear. “Oh, my,” she says, clamping a hand over her chest. “That’s quite the …” She trails off and hurries to the front of the room, probably wondering, like everyone else here except me, what neuron stopped firing in Sarah’s brain to make her act like a nut job. Me, I don’t care if Sarah’s crazy. I like her better that way. It’s more interesting.
Mrs. Log asks us to pass our papers to the front, whatever that means. Sarah gets a piece of notebook paper out of her bag, with math scribbles all over it, and hands it to the person in front of her. She has to get up to do it, since there’s a barrier of at least one empty desk between us and the rest of the class in every direction.
I yawn and lay my head against my arm. Another sleepless night on Alex’s hardwood floor, with Jessica crying for hours in the other room and Helen and Gordon taking turns trying to quiet her down. I would say Jessica is no longer my favorite, except that Alex also snores. And his arm has a tendency to fall off the bed and hit me in the face while he’s sleeping. And Amelia? She’s not even in the running.
I intend to close my eyes for just a second, but I must doze off, because when I open them again, everyone else has a graphing calculator on their desk and Mrs. Log is talking about how to use the tangent button. Last I knew, she was reviewing how to solve for x when there was more than one variable in the equation.
I blink, thinking about going back to sleep, when I notice Sarah staring at me through her giant headgear contraption, the little red light blinking on her forehead. She doesn’t have her notebook out this time.
“What are you doing?” I mutter, putting my head back down.
“Looking through your clothes.” One side of her mouth twitches into a grin as she continues to have her visual way with me.
I sit up and hold my hand out to her, tapping my finger to my palm and glancing up at the clock. “This isn’t a free show. How long have you been watching? Ten minutes? That’s going to cost, oh, about …” I tally up what I think that’s worth, then give her a nice discount. “Twenty bucks.” It’s a steal.
Sarah laughs, but then her expression melts into one of pure shock, and her eyes focus on my hand and don’t look away.
“Keep looking,” I say. “The meter’s only going up.”
Sarah suddenly pulls the contraption off her head and sets it on her desk. She pushes the little button on the side and the light fades out. Her cheeks go pink, and she can’t look at me.
Now she gets modest?
“Don’t you want to know what this is?” Sarah asks, her head bent forward in shame, her eyes sliding toward me, then flicking back to front and center.
“X-ray goggles. Glasses. Whatever. A little clunky on the aesthetics, but otherwise—”
“Damien!” Mrs. Log whaps a ruler against the metal edge of the whiteboard. “Could you please not talk in class? Now, where were we?”
Not talk in class? What kind of nonsense is that? What the hell else are we supposed to do?
“Otherwise what?” Sarah asks after a minute of
Jill sticks her tongue out at Sarah, flicking it in a perverted gesture. Then she goes back to idly playing with her nose ring.
“Hey, Marty,” Sarah says. She’s not fazed at all by him pushing her and calling her names. “Turn around.”
He turns automatically, before he realizes he’s done her bidding.
Sarah presses a button on the side of her robot helmet. A little red light flickers to life in the middle of her forehead. She looks him up and down, pausing at his crotch, a slow smile spreading over her face. “That’s what I thought.”
Marty mutters about how they shouldn’t have to put up with people like her, and he and Jill take their places with the rest of their group.
Sarah sits down next to me. She folds her hands together on her desk and grins.
Mrs. Log jumps when she enters the classroom and catches sight of Sarah’s headgear. “Oh, my,” she says, clamping a hand over her chest. “That’s quite the …” She trails off and hurries to the front of the room, probably wondering, like everyone else here except me, what neuron stopped firing in Sarah’s brain to make her act like a nut job. Me, I don’t care if Sarah’s crazy. I like her better that way. It’s more interesting.
Mrs. Log asks us to pass our papers to the front, whatever that means. Sarah gets a piece of notebook paper out of her bag, with math scribbles all over it, and hands it to the person in front of her. She has to get up to do it, since there’s a barrier of at least one empty desk between us and the rest of the class in every direction.
I yawn and lay my head against my arm. Another sleepless night on Alex’s hardwood floor, with Jessica crying for hours in the other room and Helen and Gordon taking turns trying to quiet her down. I would say Jessica is no longer my favorite, except that Alex also snores. And his arm has a tendency to fall off the bed and hit me in the face while he’s sleeping. And Amelia? She’s not even in the running.
I intend to close my eyes for just a second, but I must doze off, because when I open them again, everyone else has a graphing calculator on their desk and Mrs. Log is talking about how to use the tangent button. Last I knew, she was reviewing how to solve for x when there was more than one variable in the equation.
I blink, thinking about going back to sleep, when I notice Sarah staring at me through her giant headgear contraption, the little red light blinking on her forehead. She doesn’t have her notebook out this time.
“What are you doing?” I mutter, putting my head back down.
“Looking through your clothes.” One side of her mouth twitches into a grin as she continues to have her visual way with me.
I sit up and hold my hand out to her, tapping my finger to my palm and glancing up at the clock. “This isn’t a free show. How long have you been watching? Ten minutes? That’s going to cost, oh, about …” I tally up what I think that’s worth, then give her a nice discount. “Twenty bucks.” It’s a steal.
Sarah laughs, but then her expression melts into one of pure shock, and her eyes focus on my hand and don’t look away.
“Keep looking,” I say. “The meter’s only going up.”
Sarah suddenly pulls the contraption off her head and sets it on her desk. She pushes the little button on the side and the light fades out. Her cheeks go pink, and she can’t look at me.
Now she gets modest?
“Don’t you want to know what this is?” Sarah asks, her head bent forward in shame, her eyes sliding toward me, then flicking back to front and center.
“X-ray goggles. Glasses. Whatever. A little clunky on the aesthetics, but otherwise—”
“Damien!” Mrs. Log whaps a ruler against the metal edge of the whiteboard. “Could you please not talk in class? Now, where were we?”
Not talk in class? What kind of nonsense is that? What the hell else are we supposed to do?
“Otherwise what?” Sarah asks after a minute of
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