Honey and the Pug

The simulation exam

When it came to Honey's education, Mother had many firm opinions. As far as Mother was concerned, Honey was not going to learn basic numbers and letters from a Learning AI in order to become a wordless sanitation professional. Nor was Honey going to one of the Southern Cross Station's public learning pods, those massive chambers with up to four thousand children hooked up to helmets that trained them to become engineers or mechanics. No, the women in the Bun family went to Queen Lillibeth's  school for fine young ladies. It was a seashell-shaped building, a five-minute walk away from Paprika station, wedged between the town's museum of Mill history and a fried oxygen restaurant. The girls of Queen Lillibeth's would become fine young ladies with comfortable jobs such as party planning, event management or wardrobe organising.
"Did you study for the test last night?" Cam asked half-heartedly as they walked through the school's heavy iridescent pearl doors, past several senior girls dressed in mint green versions of their uniform.
"No," Honey sighed. "What's the point? It's been the same test every week so far. I think we're all thoroughly prepared on what to do if a Mill needs to be rescued from a hostile holiday."
"I mean yeah," said Cam as they entered their classroom. "But she always changes the disaster! Remember last week it was a tornado? The week before that it was an alien invasion."
As far as Honey knew, kids who went to public schools would learn while floating in glowing liquid tanks.

Saint Lucinda's, however, believed that fine young ladies should have perfect posture and that this could only be achieved if they sat in front of white plastic desks on hard plastic chairs. Most of the other girls were already sitting at their desks chatting, and Mrs. Basil was hunched over her desk with her eyes shut, groaning. The class barely noticed as Honey sat down at her uncomfortable desk. They did, however, notice Cam. Everyone noticed Cam, the way that people tended to notice bees or a sudden crisp wind.
"Cam! You're holding concept ice cream," Miso Sulphuric shrieked, leaning forward with her dark purple hair brushing against Honey's desk.
"Mmm hmmm," Cam smiled mysteriously, refusing to say more.
"Where did you get it?" Peaches Cracker , a tall bald girl sitting in the back remarked, her eyes narrowed with suspicion. "My dad tried to get some for my birthday but he can't afford it on a droid cleaner's salary."