𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐋𝐔𝐃𝐄𝐃

CHAPTER ONE

One

    "These violent delights have violent ends," Mrs. Dotes asked the bored-out-of-their-minds senior English students, "You learned this freshman year. Anyone care to tell me where this quote is from and what it means?"

    Nora Watson raised her hand. This caused the collective eye-roll as she was the only one in the class who made her voice heard as often as she did. This, however, never bothered her. No point in keeping her mouth shut if she knew she was right. As the teacher pointed to her, she answered with the words she planned in her mind, "Romeo and Juliet. It foreshadows the macabre ending of the play. What does this have to do with Lord of the Flies?"

    "That's your job to tell me, Miss Watson. At the beginning of the semester, I warned you that there would be no final. Instead, you must write me an essay. Now, we're reaching April, and I'm giving you two months to write me your final essay. No. Excuses. I want you to relate something you learned from your freshman year to something you learned now. Just as that line relates to the end of the play, however, your lesson can be much less depressing. In fact, I would like something that will open my eyes to some optimism in your futures. Nothing about your essay has to be academic. Well, except give it to me in MLA format. Really, just prove to me these four years weren't a complete waste dedicated to ruining the mental health of the next generation. The copy machine's broken, as per usual, but you will get your in-depth prompt tomorrow, everyone understands what I'm asking?"

    The class collectively nodded their heads, Nora included, but she was absolutely lost. Freshman year was a blur, along with most of high school. Why couldn't they just take some 150 question final where she could at least guess? Just before Mrs. Dotes was about to carry on with the lesson, another hand shot up. One much less seen than Nora's that belonged to someone in the back of the classroom. Edison. Well, she did have a first name, but anyone who called her anything other than a variation of her surname would be murdered by the daggers she glared. That was the general aura that surrounded Edison; intimidating and vaguely dangerous. It didn't help that there wasn't a single bright color in her wardrobe, so she didn't exactly appear friendly. No one dared call her anything other than what she preferred. Nora smiled when she thought of it as she never thought it suited the dark-haired girl who had come to school in ripped jeans and other punk variations since freshman year.

    Four years of classes together, Nora doesn't think she's ever seen the girl raise her hand, not even once. As Mrs. Dotes calls on her, she says in a bored, challenging voice, "What if we haven't learned shit? All I remember is that when learning Spanish freshman year, vosotros doesn't matter."

    "Very funny, Ms. Edison. If you all weren't nearly or already adults I'd scorn you for the language, but alas, what's the point? Since you've got an attitude, why don't you write me an essay on your analysis of the Spanish language then? Now, on with the lesson."

    Nora chuckled with the rest of the class at how unbothered the teacher seemed to be. She couldn't imagine having that much gall to speak to an authority figure like that. Careless or reckless were not good terms to describe Nora. She couldn't do anything without thinking long enough to write a 5,000 word analysis on the situation. If consequences had the slightest possibility of being disastrous, she avoided the situation. For just a moment, she turned to look back at Edison, who always sat leaning back with her arms crossed. At this moment, however, the girl sat up straight and was looking around the classroom. Dark eyes met hers for the briefest second before she turned back around. Edison was all kinds of trouble and Nora found herself quite happy at the front of the classroom.

    The rest of the class dragged on, but by the time it was over Nora found herself relieved as though she had been holding her breath. Shaking the feeling off, she walked to her locker where her favorite person was waiting for her. Nora was going to miss the part of high school where everything being about your boyfriend was viewed as normal. Something about the boy with a charming smile leaning against her locker felt not ready for the real world. Which was horribly unfair considering the real world was two short months away.