Hacking the Sun [Old Version]

Chapter 3.2 Arch in My Covenant

Revised on February 14, 2018.

During a bitter-sweet flashback, Jessica remembered that teenage angst was nature's way of encouraging independence. Counter-intuitively, there were entire institutions dedicated to penning up adolescence.

"Dysfunction is not inherent to the human condition," she muttered. "It's nature's recoil, I'd say, against the attempt to stifle growth."

"What you say, you fucken Weeb?"

The brunt of a sneaker slammed her into several plastic storage bins. Then and there, the smell of the gym changing room, the heated sourness of post-practice hockey, sunk in. The sprinklers had yet to trigger their fragrance filters, so the scent amplified her bitterness. Looking up from the ground, she found the angry scowl of a female student in the crimson skirt and white shirt of Ashenvale Academy.

"Mr. Johnson knew my essay was forged!" the bully exclaimed, running pink nails across her strands of red dye. "The point, as I stressed, was to make it sound like my writing!"

"But I thought you wanted a passing grade," Jessica countered. Next second, her face felt the brunt of a sneaker.

"I don't see any teachers or security," said the lookout. Like with all walking clichés, there was a lackey, who stood tentatively beside the doorway to the lockers, casual to the cruelty of yet another Queen Bee. Up until Freshman year, Jessica had thought them extinct.

With the pain in her chin and neck, she struggled to rise but managed to sit upright, feel the familiar hardness of a hockey stick through her fingers.

"And another thing," Queen Bee continued. "Micah said you were talking to Jeremy in the computer lab. Why?"

"Because he asked for help?"

"Be real with me, bitch." She grabbed Jessica's collar. "You know I like him, right? You heard about it, and the next day you just happened to meet up with him in the lab?"

"Nothing's more romantic than computer literacy, Avery," Jessica whispered sarcastically. "I can't control my obsession or the need to make you jealous. My life revolves around it, especially now."

With a small shove, the girl let Jessica fall before crouching over her space. "I forgot. Is this turning you on?"

"You realize there are cameras in this room?"

"Because I give two shits? My dad knows the Principal, cyberwhore, and he has Azarean connections. No one cares about the rambling of some reject. It's incredibly annoying, actually. Your parents probably faked their deaths to get away it."

Numb to the physical pain, Jessica carefully rose to her feet, right before Avery's grin crossed her gaze. Faster than her thoughts, her arm swung the hockey shaft and smashed that grin sideways. The blow cracked the stick, and Avery lay on the floor, stiff.

"Shit!" cried the lackey. She looked from Avery to Jessica, horrified, then quickly ran off.

Jessica stared down at the body, nails digging into her palms. She had to do something before her life came crashing down, again. She had to run. The camera in the corner, its footage had to go.

She practically raced out of the school. Outside, the clouds seemed particularly grey above the campus' walled garden. After-school activity was a mistake. The blood in her veins curled, her skin crawled, and it channeled from sweltering resentment into a migraine.

Top-tier alumni from every field could secure entry into the most prestigious academies, where they could share halls with the superior species. Hence, the moment she demonstrated an affinity for hockey, Jess made enemies; the moment she excelled in school, she made enemies; the very moment she cared, she made enemies, which is why she hated Gerald Leibniz. Academia was a curse, social life a curse.