Hidden Cliques (WIP)

Chapter II

Heath

Music: Hades - Gradius IV

I'm in my 3rd hour Pre-Algebra class. Math is a pretty easy subject for me (hence why I'm at the "advanced" level). Mathematics has always been a side interest, along with mechanical design and development. Whenever I'm stressed, I create.

(Tangent alert.)

One day last summer, I spent over 10 hours in my dad's shed, which is full of parts, metal, plastic, wood, tools, wiring, previous inventions, and so on. I also have my own personal generator (Don't tell anyone). I was blueprinting a motor bike powered by air pressure. Oh, the complexity, I love it and hate it at the same time. The problem was the air-refill system. It's literally the most nitpicky thing ever. "Oh, you just moved the check valve one tiny bit? I'm gonna spit it out now. Tried to loosen the fitting of the main tank to fix the check valve problem? I'm just gonna blow air in your face and make you refill it now." It's as if it has fun when it malfunctions. Ah well. I'll figure it out someday.

(End of tangent.)

We have just finished grading our homework (I got 100%. Go me.) , and our teacher has just started going through the main lesson for today. My girlfriend, Skylar Zill, sits behind me, and the two of us like to compete with each other to see who can take better notes. She usually wins. She's very thorough. And maybe a bit too competitive and ambitious. (Don't tell her I said that.)

Shortly through the lesson, the intercom buzzes. "Mr. Jacobsen?"

"Yes?"

"Can you please send Heath Allen and Skylar Zill to student administration?"

"Sure thing."

Crap. That's rarely ever good. Skylar and I exchange a worried look with each other, then pack up our things and exit. Our Pre-Algebra class is in the basement while the main offices are on the main floor, so we have to walk up one flight of stairs to get to STAD.

One of the vice principals is waiting for us when we enter. "Have a seat," he tells us, gesturing to the two chairs in front of his desk.

We do as we're told. "Is something wrong?" Skylar asks. Her face is turning pale, and she looks very nervous, like she's never been to STAD before. Granted, neither have I, but that's more by chance.

"I understand you two are very close," he starts with. I'm already not liking where this is going, and neither is Skylar.

"We're pretty tight, yeah," I reply. Short and simple answers are the best kind in these cases. You don't want to start rambling and accidentally incriminate yourself.

"You two sit together at lunch every day, correct?"

Skylar answers this time. "That would be accurate."

"Well, earlier today we received a complaint from one of the chaperones. She said she noticed you two holding hands and nudging each other."

"And what's wrong with that?" I ask. "We're not publicly kissing or anything. We're just messing with each other. Friends do it all the time."

"Yeah, plenty of other people are doing that kind of stuff at lunch. It wouldn't just be us," Skylar adds.

"I'm not the one who made the complaint. She said that what you two were doing in particular was making her feel uncomfortable. And typically, if one person reports discomfort over these kinds of displays, there are plenty of others who don't."

"That's a ridiculous generalization," I say.

"Well, we need to take steps to ensure that all of our students and facility feel safe in all spaces."