Overcast | ✓

The Smoke Blows Black

I almost decided to stay home from school when I woke up on Tuesday morning because I genuinely thought I was going to pass out. My legs are doing that thing where they feel weak and shaky, my head keeps going cloudy, and I know that it's because I have slept a collective half hour over the last 2 days. The only thing that convinces me not to take a sick day is the fact that there could be another prank pulled and I need to collect more evidence. I stop at a gas station before school and buy $15 worth of energy drinks so I can actually feel alive today and then, I enter to a prison-like scene. The hallways have been separated into lines of students and every one of them is holding out their bag to be searched. Teachers and student council members are brandishing flashlights to dig through their belongings and Mr. Adair is standing at the head of the operation.

"Please file into a queue and unzip your school bags," he is yelling, and I obey reluctantly. "We will make this brief so our day can continue as normal. This is a necessary search for evidence regarding the recent protests."

I stand in line for a horribly long time, my eyes shifting around the crowd. Everybody is strangely quiet and I can only assume it's because they're nervous, not about owning evidence concerning the protests, but about owning other contraband. I know for a fact that a large majority of students in my grade regularly smoke in the bathrooms and are probably hiding stashes in their lockers or backpacks. Thankfully, I have nothing to hide, but I still feel a bit worried about my things being sorted through. Elio is beside me, unzipping his own bag.

"This is a bit pointless," he whispers, because the air around us is almost void of noise. "What 'evidence' are they even looking for?"

"I don't know. Something leading to the next prank, I suppose."

"Well, I hope this goes quickly. I have an exam first period."

"You want to take an exam?"

He shrugs. "I'm very good at history."

"How are we related?" There's a pause as the line shifts forward a bit before Mrs. Higgs, my English teacher, begins to search my bag.

"Why on earth do you have so many energy drinks," she asks with this horrified expression. I don't answer, because I shouldn't have to. Unless it's harming someone, it shouldn't be anyone else's business what our personal belongings are. But, because of these stupid protests, our privacy is no longer an option.

***

12:45 PM. Halfway through 4th period. Deep into a daydream where I pull a gun from my pocket and shoot myself in the head. I am sitting in front of a school computer beside the rest of my class who are all staring just as mindlessly into their respective monitors. This is when the next prank takes place, and it is my favorite of the bunch. Every computer reboots in unison and, very suddenly, the only website we are able to access is that of the blog which is displaying a photo of Mr. Adair from this morning. His head has been photoshopped onto a woman's body and he is wearing a hot pink bikini. The entire classroom bursts into laughter before the teachers realize what has happened and rush everyone out. We've come to find that every computer in the entire school has been hacked to limit our reach and, as students pull up their laptops in the hallway, we come to see why.

Hello Summerfield High!

We have reached 5,000 followers on this blog! Your reward is a disruption from all classes computer related. I hope you enjoy Mr. Adair's new look ;)

This is a reminder that today, at 6:00 PM, is the second meetup for the Rising Unification of Ecoterrorists. We encourage all to come and join of cause. In order to show support, sport a red outfit to this meetup.