Super Simulator

Chapter 57- DAMN YOU TRUMP!

"Hey, Emera, when's your birthday?" Jason asked me. We were in the middle of gym class and were currently doing warm ups. My gym uniform was already sweaty to the max. Ew. "Uh, August 12," I said.

Jason stopped and stared at me. "What? Isn't that tomorrow?" I shrugged. I never really was able to know what the date was. Time just passes for me, I don't know which day of the month it is.

"I guess," I said. 

The gym teacher blew his whistle, no not that kind pervert, which meant that we had to move on to the next warm up. Running. Basically, we run around a gym with about 50 other sweaty kids, 25 of which are hormone filled 16 to 17-year-old boys who don't have any pockets for their standing soldier. Doesn't help that girls are in tight fitting outfits where their newly developing body parts that these pubescent boys are newly interested in are jiggling everywhere. And yes, I mean boobies.

"Aren't you going to celebrate?" Jason asked me, running side by side by me. Personally, I don't see whats the point of running around the room. I only run to get away from something or to get somewhere. This was just pointless. "You didn't celebrate your birthday when we were in the simulator," I pointed out. His birthday was in April I think, and we were in the Somnuim during that time. "Well, I'm not so big on that kind of stuff, and neither were the others when their birthdays passed there," he said.

I shrugged again and sped up a little. "Well, it's kinda too late now to get me anything. I mean, if anyone outside of the group celebrated, the entire school might go wild." I admit I knew that some people had an unhealthy obsession with this group. We were now called the 'Streaks', obviously because of our odd hair. I wasn't really sure about the Streak Rumors, but basically, it's always on the school newspaper. I should really read it, later on, today . . .

"Well, maybe we can get you something tomorrow, huh? You know, just go out to eat or something. Just us and the gang?" Jason asked. "Sure, I guess. It's not that big a deal, though," I said.

The gym coach tweeted his whistle for us to speed up, and that was the end of our discussion.

________

I picked up one of the newspaper, and right dab on the front page was me next to Jason. We were both in the hallway and looking off in some direction. The picture was pretty good and on point. My hair was falling and cascading down my shoulders, and I my skin seemed to glow. I was wearing a very serious look, and my eyes were practically glowing from within. Jason was the same. We both kind of looked like those celebrities at photo shoots together, just looking not directly at the camera, though I don't remember seeing someone taking a FUCKING PICTURE OF ME. Creepy, but I still looked like a fabulous bitch, so no harm was done.

That was until I saw the headline.

'WHAT ARE THE STREAKS HIDING?'

Shit, this can't be good. Damn, you press.

The little seniors that have swept up our beloved high school have certainly made a name for themselves in such a short amount of time. The question is, what is their secret?  Many mysteries revolve around these weird newbies, and many strange occurrences since they've been here. I myself can confirm some of the odd things that have been going on they've been pulling the strings. And who is behind all of the Streaks' doings? None other than their leader, Emera Pisces. She has the school wrapped around her finger, but can we REALLY trust her? One of the beloved students of this school, Hannah Greene, mentioned that her dorm was being haunted because of an Ouija board incident that happened on the first night Emera and the Streaks arrived. The problem developed and even now Hannah and her dorm mate, Jessica Stone, are scared because of it. And  who was there when it happened? None other than the Streak Girls. It is also said that none of the Streak Girls reacted when the Ouija board moved. What if  Fanny Phantom really didn't haunt, but it was because of Emera?  Other kids recall just a few days ago the Streaks running through the halls, the same day Emera was said to run out of the classroom. Not only that, but it seems as if the Streaks are prone to the rules of this high standing institute. They have disobeyed the dress guidelines  by having clearly fake highlights in their hair. They also have a strange aura about them and seem to be very secretive. None of  them are known in the business world, where all of our students are involved in. So how did they even get in this school for only the elite and wealthy? They also won't reveal anything about their past, and an anonymous source has said that their student files are blank.  They are reported to go deep into the woods during lunch, which is strictly forbidden. But when we asked Principal Jackson, she simply dismissed it. Blackmail? Bribe? What. Are. They. Hiding? Be warned, Streaks, we will find out. We're on your tail.

-Anonymous Journalist

I gasped in horror at this. Dammit! FUCKING PRESS. Now they are looking after us, and it will be ANNOYING as HELL! What do we do?

Fucking Politicians.

DAMN YOU TRUMP!

I grabbed a newspaper and headed to the dorm, and grabbed Carlyn by the wrist.

Get the others, we have an emergency.

She nodded, and I could tell she was sending the others already through the telepathy. I growled to myself. We have to stop this, I already know this newspaper is sort of popular, so this is really bad news. We can't have people hot on our tail and discover our secrets, NOT HAPPENING!

I don't even know what to do, I HAVE to stop this!

Who even wrote this?