Maybe it's me. Maybe it's fate. Maybe it's just simply, a horrible no-good very bad day. Either way, my brain isn't processing the large, red letter at the top of my exam. I have to squint at it for a good five seconds before I can read it. F. Excuse me? I am Jess Hollens, chemistry valedictorian extraordinare. I am not a failure. My fingers clench, crumpling the edges of the thick paper.
"Mr. Barnes?" I call out tentatively. Mr. Barnes turns slightly, the top of another student's test facing me. Well, they managed a B.
"What?" He asks in that gruff tone of his. He doesn't like to be interrupted. Not that he was talking, of course. Why he hates everyone, I've never been sure.
"I have a question about my—"I start, but he cuts me off.
"After class." He says. Some people stare at me, but I'm used to that. I hear what they say, and I don't care. They need to learn that one incident in second grade shouldn't affect me now.
The seconds on the clock seem to stop, and when I look back again, I swear we went back a minute. When the bell finally rings, I haul myself out of my desk and wait for the rest of the class to file out.
I approach Mr. Barnes' desk, a little nervous. Mr. Barnes isn't necessarily a "nice" guy. I dig my fingernails into my palms as he looks up at me, his eyebrows raised in question as if to say, spit it out already.
"How is it possible that I got an F on this paper, Mr. Barnes?" I ask, pointing to it, even though I can tell he knows what I'm talking about. He studies me for a long moment.
"You didn't answer the questions, Miss Hollens. Now, if you don't mind—"He starts to say.
"What do you mean I didn't answer all of the questions? You know me, Mr. Barnes, and this must have been rigged! Maybe it was Laila, or someone else trying to get revenge—"He shushes me before I can even finish.
"I'm sorry, Miss Hollens, but you just didn't do very well this time." He interrupts, though his facial expression says otherwise.
For once, I am at a loss for words. I studied so hard for that test, and I remember checking every single page for an error or a potential mistake. I checked everywhere. How could I not have answered the questions? I open and close my mouth a couple times, but I can't seem to figure out what to say.
"But—" I stutter out.
"Good day, Miss Hollens." He says and turns back to the papers he's grading, a silent order to get out. Before what, I wonder? Will he call the hall Nazis? The principal?
I sigh and slowly walk out the door, lingering a bit before finally leaving. I resist the urge to slam it behind me. I tuck a strand of my rusty red hair behind my ear and pause about five steps away from the chemistry classroom. Something catches my eye. I lean against a wall, ignoring those jerky few who think it's totally okay to shove people around. I flip through the exam, and I'm shocked senseless at what I see.
All of the questions are blank. None of them have been answered. It looks just like it does when it was first handed to me. I remember doodles I had made on the back when I was finished, and numbers and equations taking up pages. But this test is completely blank.
I frantically flip to the front of the packet. This is what startles me the most. My name is still on it. Jessica Hollens, written in my large, loopy handwriting.
YOU ARE READING
Subject #013 | ✓
Teen Fiction"I'm only going to ask you one more time." I say firmly. "Who are you and what do you want with me?" He frowns, and I tense, waiting for a blow, but none comes. I really need to shut my big mouth. "Apparently, I'm not nearly as famous as I thou...
