(The New) Power of the 8 Elements: Part Two

Chapter Thirteen: False Info

"When your ears hear one thing, but your eyes see another...use your brain." - Frank Sonnenberg
PRESENT DAY
CELESTE

Six period is unexpectedly canceled today. No one tells us why, but by the time the event rolls around the corner after lunch, we're all on the edge of our seats, waiting for whatever announcement we would receive. To our surprise—mine most of all—a group of scientist-looking people walked into the classroom. There are three of them: two women and one man dressed in white lab coats, boots, and latex gloves. The woman has her hair tied up, and the man wears goggles.

"What the h*ll is going on?" Lucifer whispers to me.

"I don't know," I respond.

"Science lab..." Jason mutters in a playful, sing-song voice.

"Shut up," I respond, punching him in his shoulder.

Lady D stands before the class, and our heads raise. "Class, I would like to introduce Dr. Alicia Adkins, Dr. Marigold Hensley, and Dr. Frank Delgado."

"The f*ck is this for...?" One of the other members of our group, Gabrielle, says.

"They would like to give you a safety seminar. You are to treat them with the same amount of respect that you treat me. Surely that will not be difficult."

We watch her leave, and then bring our attention to the three doctors. With such intriguing attires and Lady D's brief description, it makes me wonder what they're actually here for. I'm guessing one wouldn't bring doctors in lab coats to talk about gun violence or drugs or...unwanted teenage pregnancies. I hope that the principal hasn't called them just to call me and Lucifer out from being "immature" and "stupid".

"How are you all doing this afternoon?" Dr. Adkins says. She stands in between the other doctors and nods at them.

Dr. Delgado pulls out a computer and connects it to the HDMI cord which projects it on the screen. Dr. Hensley begins opening files and flipping through the papers. No one answers. For a classroom that's usually loud and talkative, everyone seems awfully timid.

"Good; good. On that note, I've heard about the murders going on in your town, and I want to apologize because I know the last case really struck close to home."

As if all of us were stricken by a case of extreme insensitivity, everyone's heads turn to look at Reggie who pulls his hoodie over his head. Terry, one of the few of us left with common sense, looks away from Reggie. They sit in the same row, but she apparently has enough decency to not draw any more attention to him.

Dr. Hensley clicks a pen, sits at Lady D's desk, and begins taking notes. It's a little unsettling for all of us, knowing that the slightest shift in movement—the twitch of an eye, blink of a lash, scratching of a nose—could result in a monumental change in ideology for either one of these doctors. They are up to something.

"Are you the police?" Vera asks.

"No, my dear, we are not the police."

"Then you must be psychiatrists," Christine says. "We've heard and been through enough—daily counselor check-ins."

"We are not psychiatrists either."

"So then who the heck are you?"

"We are members of PCS."

She watches as all of us exchange confused looks with each other. Dr. Hensley begins to suspiciously write more down in her binder. She's probably taking note of the fact that we've never heard of this before and the fact that three students just so happened to avoid looking at their fellow classmates as the others did.