Lunar Virus ✔️

Chapter Four: Elodie

Within the week, I'm pretty much settled in. I am used to grueling daily workouts (I had never really ever willingly exercised before. PhysEd was enough). I'm used to Gertrude's withering glances (which I've learned to pretend not to notice). And I'm used to the daily routine of my so-called "classes", which consist of some pretty random things. So far, the only thing that I've learned that's really stuck in my mind is this:

Ass/u/me.

This happens to be the retaliation of one of the mentors when a kid used the word, "assume" in a sentence more than three times. It was written on the board and hasn't been erased since. Let me just say that most of the children in my class should not be trusted with protecting the Earth from aliens. Heck, I wouldn't trust any of these kids to do their part in a group project either. Then again, I wouldn't trust most of the populace to do their part in a project. That may or may not include me.

Today, when I walk into the classroom, the ass/u/me is gone.

Suspicious? Definitely.

I spot Elie towards the back of the room and practically tiptoe all the way there to the seat beside him, just because that's how quiet the whole room is. Another sign that something is up. Did someone die? The death of a person is literally the only reason any of the people in this room would be as quiet as they are now.

I carefully lower myself into the seat--again--to avoid making noise, and turn to Elie. "Did someone die?" I whisper this, but even as I do, a few heads turn to glare. Well, shit. As I turn to the side, I catch Elie giving me a warning glance. "What?"

"SHHHHH!" this comes from several people in the vicinity. What the hell is happening? My eyes widen as a realization hits me; could everyone have been possessed by aliens? It seems possible. I run through a made-on-the-fly checklist:

1)An adolescent has erased the ass/u/me off the board.

2)No one has put it back on the board.

3)It's so quiet that I can hear the quietness.

Conclusion: I'm an idiot.

One the board are the words, "You are being watched. The branch manager will not come in until everyone is completely silent." Of course. Of course, this happens to me. The first impression on the head of our branch, and I screw up. Slowly, I straighten my posture and swivel to face the front of the room.

Not even two seconds later, a lady comes striding into the room. The whole room seems to straighten. Back in the corner of the room, a kid smoothes his shirt and I resist the urge to do the same. This lady just exudes power. Her hair is perfectly pulled back, eyebrows perfectly plucked. The only blemish on her skin is a little scar above her left eyebrow. "Two minutes." she glares at me as she says this. "It took two minutes for everyone to have shut bocas, focused ojos, and still culos." Judging by the ease in which she spouted out body parts in Spanish, she's a native speaker.

"I assume that everyone knows what the drill is today." Assume. While I manage to keep a straight face, several others with less self-control, fail. A guy towards the side of the room looks like he's about ready to pop a vein with the amount of effort it's taking him to try to keep from bursting out laughing. The girl in front of me actually lets out something that sounds like a whimper as she tries to hold it all in.

Lady (my new name for her) doesn't even miss a beat, "Dawson, if you're gonna make a face like that, I will have to assume you're severely constipated." Oh, hell. Please, someone help me get through this. The girl in front of me finally cracks and slumps onto her desk, shoulders shaking as she tries to stifle giggles. No, no, no, don't look, don't laugh.