The New Rules

Stoned

Clara was called into her guidance counsellor's office.

She was sick of meeting with Marion, but she assumed this would be the last meeting. The one where they iron out the final details about John Hopkins, and talk about fall's orientation. Clara would wait as Marion scrambled for a pen, and then told an inappropriate personal story about her new boyfriend Gerald, whom she met online. But when she walked into the office, Marion's chair was turned around, so she couldn't see her face.

"Please shut the door," the voice in the chair said.

"Marion, are you sick?" Clara asks, noticing her voice, sounded raspy and deep, like she swallowed a jar of peanut butter. When the chair spun around, it was not meek, messy, quirky Marion, but another woman, one with a sleek bob, the colour of a freshly washed chalkboard. She had mascara just on her bottom lashes, and was wearing a leather long-sleeved shirt. Her lips were stained burgundy, like she drank Pinot Noir for breakfast.

"Sit down," the woman commanded. Clara walked a few steps forward and sat in the wooden chair, her hands in fists on her thighs.

"Where's Marion?" she asked.

"Marion is taking a personal day," she said. Clara was never good at pushing back on authority, so instead of asking who this woman was, or why she was pulled out of class, or why the heck she was acting like she was about to be assassinated, she just stared and waited.

"My name is Coral," she said. "Coral Stone. And I am here to recruit you."

She had a digital tablet in front of her and tapped on it a few times. "I see here that you've been accepted to John Hopkins, and you're on track to become a biomedical engineer. Your mother, Grace is also one, a rather famous one. Your father, Jack, is a teacher. You're a comfortable kid, one of the lucky ones." She put her hands up in air quotes, around the word lucky, as if she understood how Clara felt about her situation.

"You seem to have tendencies for rebellion, but you never act upon it. I would go so far as to say that you're a bit repressed. But you did let go a bit with your ex-boyfriend Xavier, especially in a sexual way, but since then you've shut down even more."

"Umm, excuse me," Clara said. "That is definitely not in my school file, and if it is, I'd like to know how the hell it got there." Coral looked at Clara as if she just sneezed, like an interruption that would not be acknowledged. She continued.

"With this being said, we do see you as a proper candidate for The Chalkboard Academy."

"What's that?" Clara asked, feeling slightly more on edge than she felt before.

Coral smiled, her wine-stained lips, an elegant frame around her large, white teeth. "The Chalkboard Academy is an organization that I co-founded with four other people, including my husband, Miles. We all attended college, did the A-track, and got successful jobs globally around the world. We made quite a sum of money, and as friends and business partners, discovered that we wanted to start an organization that helps young people combat The New Rules."

Clara did not interrupt.

"You see, millions of kids attend college, yes some have debt and yes some now, will not, but will they lead better lives because of it? Will they fulfill their passion? How do you even know you want to be an engineer even without your mother? No one, even without the system, is able to test out their career first and that is what we're here for."

"Like an internship program?" Clara asked.

"Kind of, but more in-depth. We like to think of ourselves as an immersion structure. By joining us, you forgo college for a minimum of one year, which some kids do anyways, think of it as a Gap Year. During this time, we will plunge you into a career of your choice. Thinking about becoming a writer? An investor in start-ups? A professional blogger? We have special technology that allows you to enter into the memories of people who are junior in their careers. You get to live the experience, instead of going to school for four years, eight years, ten years, and then starting at the bottom at something you may hate, all because you invested your life, money and time into an education system, that in our opinion, has failed its people."

Clara took a second to absorb. She pulled at the loose thread in her uniform pants. She heard about underground groups trying to lure kids into different programs, or organizations; they were the black market of the educational system, the way to the future, or corruption. She never really believed the rumours, nor had she felt like she would need to be part of those worlds given her parents' background, and yet she didn't leave the room. She thought, just get up Clara, smile, thank her, and walk out. Instead she asked a question.

"What about John Hopkins?"

"Here's the beauty of the contract, if you join us, we will provide you with funding to any college of your choice, including if you defer your offer from John Hopkins. So let's say you join us and it's not for you, you get to leave with a check in the amount of the tuition that you need, as long as you stay the year. No real strings attached. All we ask for is complete confidentiality."

"So I can't tell anyone?"

"As I said, think of it as a gap year, and feel free to tell your peers, family and friends as much. We have postcards, photos, and a variety of vacation elements that we can send an updates to loved ones while you're part of The Chalkboard Academy so they believe you're safe, and busy on a beach in Europe perhaps?"

Clara felt her body chill up as if someone just opened a window. She heard her father's words, "your mother's heart would break." She thought about the John Hopkins catalogs on her desk that were placed by her mother of students happily studying in dark libraries with green glassed lamps, while laughing on grassy hills.

"I can see you need some time to think about this," Coral said, not missing a beat. "Listen, Clara, I know this sounds intense, I mean some stranger you don't know asks you to forgo your future to join what sounds like a cult, but we care about youth. We want them to succeed. We pick people who we think aren't meant to lead a regular life, ones who want more. We have the financial means, and the technology to achieve this."

"Technology?" Clara asked.

"I can't get into specifics right now, but we will send you a formal offer tomorrow, and you'll have until three days before your first day at John Hopkins to decide."

Clara stood up, and felt all the blood go to her legs. She touched the chair to steady herself.

"You should really get back to class," Coral said. She handed her a slip, with Marion's signature on it. Coral then grabbed the tablet, and turned her chair to face the window as if saying goodbye wasn't something she was used to.