Fix: A Two-Part Story

Fall, age 17

"Okay class, since your teacher isn't in today, you're going to work with your lab partner to build questions and answers for the study guide." A collective groan and sigh moved through the room. The substitute ignored it. "You have to have at least 15 questions." The dry erase marker squeaked on the board as she wrote the assignment. "Four of those will be fill-in-the-blank, three will be multiple choice, five will be true or false and three will be short answer form." She clicked the cap onto the marker. "You are welcome to come up with more than the assigned fifteen." Someone scoffed in the back, but the substitute powered through taking a seat at the desk. "Once you are finished, turn them in and you are free to go."

Gage sighed and pulled his chemistry text book closer. We have a sub, and we don't get to watch a movie; this is a fucking waste. In no hurry to actually commit to the assignment, he slowly flipped to chapter four one page at a time.

"I'll do the short answer and the multiple choice," Gerry said, taking the lead. "Do you want to start with the true/false or the fill-in-the-blank?"

"Probably the fill-in-the-blank, I guess?" He picked up his pace flipping directly to chapter four, realizing it wasn't just his grade today but Gerry's as well. "What's the point of making us write the study guide, again?"

Gerry didn't bother looking up from the textbook. "It forces you to become familiar with the material and understand the material in a different way since you have to phrase the question and give the correct answer."

"Fucking nerd," Gage joked. Reaching into his bag he ripped a piece of loose leaf from a binder.

Gerry ignored him and continued to work on the assignment.

A month since school started back, and the burnout already wanted to latch on to Gage. At first, he didn't understand how Josephine and Gerry did it. How did they just dive right back into the work without even flinching at the intensity of it all? But the more he thought about it—which was a lot considering how little effort he put into schoolwork—the glaringly obvious it became.

They were lifers.

They went to school every day, for twelve-plus years, all with the goal of moving onto higher education. For them, there was not lull or pause that interrupted it. It was in their programming at that point. It was something Gage clearly lacked. Since the beginning of senior year, everything focused on nothing but perfecting everything for college, university and/or internships. Managing transcripts, admissions essays, recommendation letters, applications deadlines, scholarships and tuition talks—all of it hammered into their skulls at any moment the instructors found necessary. Josephine and Gerry took it all in stride making little notes here and there as if they missed something important.

Gage zoned out during most of it whenever it was brought up, having neither a need nor an interest in it. Nothing they talked about aligned with his ultimate goal of washing his hands of education all together. He was ready to be done with it. At this point just showing up to school and making it through another day exceeded any expectation he had for himself where school was involved.

So far, the only thing that made school bearable was the classes he shared with Josephine and Gerry and the handful of art related classes that he got to take. It was miraculous that the counselor managed to make his current schedule meet the standards necessary for graduation.

"You got those fill-in-the-blanks done?"

Gage snapped out of his thoughts and looked down on the paper. Both the true/false and fill-in-the-blanks were actually finished and numbered. He slid the work to Gerry.

"Total copout with definitions but, yea," he resigned. "Just have to put our names on it."

Gerry looked it over appraising his work. "Fuck, it will do." Gerry tapped the papers on the table aligning them. "Pack up, let's go to lunch."