My Drug-In Editing

About Those IDs...

Edited July 2, 2016

Evie's POV

"Evie, can I trust you?" Ben asks frantically. He had just stopped me on my way into the school. It was a Tuesday, and I usually got a late arrival on Tuesdays. If Ben needs to talk to me, then I could spare a class period to talk.

"Of course, why wouldn't you?" I reply, a little hurt by the question.

"I think there's something seriously up with these school IDs. I had known something was up at this school, and that's what I was going to tell you, but this changes things." His face is flooded with worry.

"I agree, something's up with the IDs. I was just about to go talk to Principal Martin once I got to school." His face softens a bit, probably knowing that I won't freak out at him. I will, however, walk out on him. If I want any time to talk with the principal, then I need to get going. He lets me go, still looking worried.

Knocking on the door that said 'Principal Gil Martin'. I wondered what I would say to him once I got in there. After getting the new school ID yesterday, all the teachers seemed to either pity or belittle me. My gut told me it had something to do with the fact that my ID was yellow. I had asked Cassandra what she thought it meant, but she didn't seem to have a clue. All she knew is that teachers were acting different around her. Being addicted to schoolwork generally got Cassie on every teacher's good side, but apparently they stopped acting like she was the best student.

"Come in, it's unlocked," Principal Martin called. I walked in and sat in the chair sitting across from his desk. "Funny, I was just about to call you to my office." he says with a bubbly chuckle.

"Why is that?" I ask. I didn't think I had broken any rules.

"Rumors fly around this school so quickly, that even the administration picks up on them. I heard about your little encounter with Erik last week. Want to talk about it?" He seems concerned, yet intrigued at the same time.

"Isn't that the counselor's job?" I retort, really not wanting to talk about that with the principal.

"It is. I apologize for my nosiness. Now, Evelyn, why did you come to see me?" I'm so glad he changes the subject, but that gladness is replaced with anxiousness as I try to figure out how to phrase my concerns.

"So these new IDs..." I start, Mr. Martin nods, encouraging me to continue. "I was just wondering why the colors are different. It just seems like only certain groups of people got the yellow IDs, and I was wondering why." I can't believe I just asked that out loud, implying that the principal was segregating students to his face.

"Well Evelyn, you must be very smart. You are the only person to call the new IDs into question. The colored IDs were assigned to specific people, yes." His words make my eyes widen. My fears were confirmed, well half-way at least.

"Why those specific people?" I ask, almost not wanting to hear the answer.

"They are the ones who show the most potential in what I have planned." His expressions turn cold all of a sudden as he thinks of his plans. "Potential to drag it all down. You guys are the ones who will most likely resist conformity, and in my plan, conformity is essential"

"Excuse me?" I say shocked and annoyed that the principal was telling me that not conforming was going to ruin his plans for whatever.

"Let's just say, you learn to conform and get a new ID, or you'll be taken care of." He says sternly. I look down at his desk, seeing lists of familiar names scribbled out on sticky-notes. One with the popular guys' names along with dollar signs and various numbers, and one with my name, along with my friends' that has a set of numbers next to them. I try to commit these notes to memory, something I can occasionally do quite well.

Erik Beck- $1,000
Paul Barrett- $950
Jarrod Green- $900
Alex Thatcher- $700
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ben Micheals- 1/8
Cassandra Perry- 1/16
Liam Heck-1/24
Tommi Zook- 2/2
Evelyn Wilson- 2/10

"I really should be getting to class then, with the rest of the students," I say, faking a smile as I excuse myself from his room.