Exotic

~ chaos reigns ~

It became immediately clear that Truman High had been wasting precious time and resources on biannual fire drills because the second an un-forecasted alarm was sounded, every one of its three thousand students went into full survival mode. Three thousand panicking teenagers deciding it was every individual for themselves in unison did not make for the most orderly of exits.

"LINES! FOLLOW YOUR LINES!" Mrs. Cher was shouting, as a stampede to the door swept me from the scene of the crime. "FIND A HEAD AND FOLLOW IT! DON'T PUSH AND SHOVE!"

Her commands didn't hold a candle to the whooping of the alarm, and people continued to push and shove as they pleased. The swell of bodies all but carried me out into the harsh sunlight of the late morning as students spilled out across the pavement. The evacuation spot was the soccer oval, but I doubted anyone remembered that and I hardly had the authority to remind them.

So camp was set up just past the science block, way too close to a building that could have been on fire for all they knew, as teachers herded out the stragglers. The building continued to shriek its distress. The hand that had set it off felt slick with sweat, knowing I had potential landed myself in hot water for my stunt, but I couldn't make myself regret it. I could see Aidan, milling around on the outskirts of the crowd, kicking up gravel. Caleb was nowhere to be found.

I'd secured myself at least a little more time before another confrontation went down, and by that time Caleb would hopefully be able to brush him off like an insect. Jesus, knock it off McCaffrey, you're never going to play soccer again with that attitude.

I just needed him to talk to me.

Teachers were trying and failing to sort kids into their homerooms, looking desperately to one another for support. Some students milled around with their phones out, the sudden evacuation nothing but a minor disruption to their scrolling. Some were filming wide panning shots of the crowd. Some older students had taken off across the road the second they'd seen the outside, sprinting with the hustle that was usually reserved for prison breakouts, not truancy.

Someone calls my name softly from behind, and I turned, hopefully. It was Aaron.

"Well, it seems my plan was wholly unnecessary. On another note, the presently non-existent Truman Gay-Straight Alliance has fourteen new members, so... " he marvelled back at the wailing cafeteria building. "What god did you sacrifice your firstborn to for that kind of luck?"

I grimaced. "I seem to make my own luck these days."

Aaron gaped. "It was you? Miles! That's grounds for... like... super expulsion."

I didn't need reminding. But there was enough on my plate; my future at Truman High, which was looking less and less appealing by the second, was the least of my concerns. "Desperate times and all. Look, I need to find Caleb. Can you keep order from being reached for like... ten more minutes?"

Aaron quirked an eyebrow. "If I was anyone else, I might tell you I've reached my favour limit for the day."

"Well thank god you are entirely yourself," I took his cheeks in my hands and squeezed as he screwed up his face in protest. "I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you. If I come out of this alive, you will never have to so much as lift a fork to your precious mouth again."

Aaron extracted himself from my grasp and frowned, visibly bewildered. "One, gross. Two, help me kickstart Truman's first GSA and we'll call it even."

It was such an earnest request that I couldn't even fathom a one-liner to depart on. Or maybe the anxiety of my current situation was starting to cut off oxygen to my brain and my centre for witty remarks was the first to shut down. I gave him a commercial thumbs up, and when he spoke next, his voice was an octave higher, eyes blown wide.