Nimbly striding towards her destination, VIctoria had but moments to think about the altercation that had transpired between Anterior and Ren, though it was decently unrelated to the sudden outburst of Mia, even if tangentially related. With each bassy step she had took upon the clean concrete, she was a few seconds away from her next class, that being of Spanish I, of which she had dreaded; though, not for the obvious reason of the misanthropic acts that circulated the halls, of which spoke of the professor residing within having collects students’ snot and other nasal secretions, to devour for his own perverse wants, but rather the threat that Mia had tacitly proposed to Victoria’s face. In spite of the demurs in Victoria’s mind of the next period being that of anything peaceful, it was of fortunate news that she would soon be meeting up with one of her new acquaintances; Raina, the one who had brought down her own friend. Mulling over such a hasty decision from her, Victoria’s mind similarly began to brew thoughts of Raina’s own odd behaviors that had landed her with such a bunch, and the quick betrayal that lay at both of their feet, not long after the deed was complete. Having a week long past since the incident, it was still of pertinent order within her mind, even far surpassing her likely unfriendly reunion with her ex-boyfriend.

  Entering the dingy room that was artificially shaded with curtains and excessive bookshelves, as though a plague of the gloom had overtaken and usurped the lights, of which never seemed to be on, Victoria found a laminated sheet of paper that appeared to describe the seating arrangement from the previous days. In a continuation of events, for the week, thus far, she was rather unhappy to discover that she was still seated near the vociferously minded Audrey, who, likewise to Mia, has an awfully loquacious nature that Victoria had found difficult to understand, though unlike Mia, Audrey had no obvious signs of rigor nor intelligent thoughts to bestow upon Victoria’s vast knowledge. Well, that’s what I like to think. Due to the circumstances, it was most blessed that it seemed to only be temporary, though it was a hapless situation, that, the person who had once sat behind them was gone, likely with permanence. The listing of names was rather misleading for the present, however, as the classroom was currently empty, with the defiant exception of someone who likely had the poorest of respiration after the events of Wednesday, as she sat behind Victoria’s current accommodation, chewing on what appeared to be minty bolus of gum; lodged between her teeth. It was Raina. And she looks . . . recovered? At least the very least . . . less tired than me. After standing awkwardly for a few seconds, and watching as Raina chewed her fingent mint with the grace of a goblin shark, she looked away from her phone, screeching towards the hazel eyes of Victoria’s, as though a reflection of her own, with the only difference being that her pairs were bloodshot, like exposed tendons.

  “OMG! Victoria; bestie, how are you, like, chilling on this, like, totally fine day?” drawled Raina, with her distinct way of speech that was equal parts endearing, though seemed decently superficial, though, in this specific instance, it appeared she was restrained by a manner of something invisible that Victoria could not penetrate the meaning of; passing it off as a mere discrepancy.

  “Um . . . uh, good! Yeah, sure. How about you?”

  “Y’know, ever since, like, that thing happened; y’know what I’m, like, talking about, right?” said Raina, preceding a nod of both acknowledgement and understanding from Victoria. “So, like, after that very, like, unpreppy thing happened, if you know, you know, like, I’ve been taking it very demure; very mindful.”

  “What’s . . . it?”

  “My life, y’know. I really, like, gotta consider who I keep around as besties, you know? Like, yeah, even before that, James was giving me, like, a lot of, like, beige flags; like, it wasn’t lowkey bad, but, it was, like, already giving me that ick, y’know, bestie?”

  “Sure . . . how was your stay at the hospital?” asked Victoria, a question that seemed to be substantiated with the slow stream of pictures from Raina’s social media accounts that displayed her stay at the hospital, stretching over the entire weekend, including the extended portions.

  “OMG, no, I didn’t stay at the hospital. That place is, like, so drab and boring.”

  “Um . . . then why did-”

  “Oh, I just, like, posted them throughout the week, cause I took a lot of very preppy pics, in my opinion, while I was, like, staying there. I really only, like, stayed there for half a day, cause the doctors, like, just yapped a bit; said my symptoms kinda just disappeared, y’know?”

  “I see . . . how do you feel about Ja-”

  “Don’t talk about that, like, total opp. If he has, like, any business talking with me, with his toxic attitude, then he can kiss my knuckles, cause, like, I’m not letting him hurt my besties again.”

  “Well . . . actually, I think I can just infer what you think, so never mind, I guess, but, um . . . what about Lucas?”

  “Who’s that?”

  “The dude who stabbed people with Anterior’s stuff?”

  “Oh, right. Him. Well, I don’t really, like, care about him. He’s probably, like, in prison, like, foreve-”

  “About that . . . he’s actually . . . probably in my World Studies class . . .”

  “Wait, like, really? Also, you take World Studies, too?”

  “Well, it’s AP World Studies.”

  “Oh . . . I see. Anyways, what’s, like, your beef with him? Is he like a major opp, or only like a minor one?”

  “Hey, Raina . . . I, uh, kinda don’t know what an ‘opp’ is? Can you . . . explain?”

  “Oh, they’re basically, like, rivals, y’know. Big meanies; your biggest enemies?”

  “So . . . James is your opp?

  “Yas. Thanks, girlie. Period. Do you have some sort of-”

  “Can I explain my situation with Lucas, first?”

  “Sure, bestie! Go for it.”

  “So, basically, he used to be my boyfriend-”

  “‘Used to be’. That’s, like, totally a big red flag, in my books. I mean, like, who could possibly, like, hate you? You’re, like, so cool and awesome and stuff. Y’know?” If only you knew . . .

  “Yeah, so long story short, he basically cheated on me, with Malaya.”

  “Wh-”

  “Malaya is the . . . how do I put this in a nice way? Um . . . she’s the rotund one; the one who doesn’t like Ariannah?”

  “Oh, yeah, her. Anyways, Ariannah is, personally, in my possible bestie list, after what she did to that toxic meanie, though she needs to, like, respect my boundaries. It wasn’t cool of her, to, like, get aggressive at me over that, like, table. It was pretty, like, uncoquette, anyways. So, like, what’s your beef with Malaya? Like, I know you just told me, like, why, but, like, why? If you don’t want to tell me, I won’t pry further.” But you already did.

  “Oh, um, but I alre-”

  “It’s okay if you don’t want to, like, spill the tea, y’know?”

  “Sure. I won’t spill the tea,” said Victoria, relieved to be given the rare largesse of the freedom from Raina’s loquacious nature, even if only for a few seconds. Focusing in the silence; temporizing the solace, coming from events that sandwiched her, Victoria became aware of the newly occupied room that replaced the originally soundless room that had lied so still. Though, however, the quiet peace between the two wouldn’t last, for its unexpectedly gradual removal was from that of the booming gremlin; now, oddly, churned to a sad congealment of somberness of the atmosphere, and a realization of wayward sonder from the one who had judged others’ speeches for as long as terror emanated. Raina was subdued with sobbing, and only, then, did Victoria notice the clues that she had previously been unable to uncover. What . . . should I say?

  “Uh . . . I’m sorry for asking, but . . . I know a lot’s . . been going on, but . . . why are you crying?”

  “B-because,” Raina mumbled, as though each uttered syllable was an insurmountable task that required the clear processing of her indignation towards the improper situation that she had found herself within; Victoria knew, all too well. “W-well, like . . . um, it’s because . . . of a friend . . . “

  “James?”

  “No . . . not him, but . . . k-Kennedy.”

  “Oh,” recalled Victoria, as her dried hands sank with a deepest blight of shame; shrinking to clasp an unknown entity that had crawled from the spry abyss that lied her hidden memories. She was so cold. “Right.”

  Raina let escape a heavy sigh, with her face covered in red lashings, as though through an anguished maelstrom, and said “Y-you . . . like, knew how long we were . . . knew each other for, right?” Her hands streaked of inks of cosmetics and makeup, as they flowed vicariously through Victoria’s mind, and the air, as her regularly unusual histrionic behavior transformed into one of a rightful method; a dramatic expression. “I’ve . . . like, like, known her for . . . since elementary . . . like, bro. I c-c-can’t talk to her anymore. Vic-ctoria . . . I’m, like, telling you this b-because, like . . . well, I don’t know, okay! But . . . you probably . . . have good ways . . . to deal with this, right?” That’s a lot of descriptors that you are ascribing to me, Raina . . . I don’t know if I can fulfill . . . many of them.

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  “Well . . . um, I don’t know how to break this to you, b-”

  Before either of them could digest the resonations of yore, that had become melded with their apprehension, of that, of which, could translate into their reality, it had already reached, and would soon apprehend them with the shuffle of the distributions. Due to the ire of the sour eyes that seeked their attention, so, like an open flame to a moth, it was reeled towards the source, and with it, came into the holistic focus; calling forth upon their attention, Sr. Villegas, whose hair had become discordant with the passions of public perceptions, and that of stressful state of affairs that was most unfavorable to a regular conditioning of emotions, though, perhaps, his mundanity had not been so, on a second examination.

  “Hola, chicos; buenos días! Today, I hope we can get to some of the vocab that I’ll give you; via a handout, but, before that, I have some words to say,” said the teacher, as his face notably dropped further within the abstracted scale of positivity that dictated Victoria’s thinking; further diluted with the emotionally ill Raina, whose sniffles could be heard from behind Victoria’s seat. “Firstly, I think we should all take a second . . . to remember Kennedy.” Despite a majority of the classroom having not a minor propinquity to the individual who had lost their life, the sudden exhumation of their loss had led to a shocking silence amongst the adolescents who were normally of a rambunctious nature; it was not for long, however, that his strident voice could once overpower the moment of reflection. “Entonces, I hope she is within our hearts, and that she lives on in our memories, si? Now, I’ve spent a bit working on this, chicos, but I have completed it! It’s your new seating chart! If you were looking at the old one, don’t worry; I should have announced it on Hanlei,” he said, with vague discussions of the online application that was approved and the standard of Onaxago’s school board, and most other school’s around Almascitisa’s periphery. “Pero, I should’ve removed the sheet out on the desk, anyways. So . . .” he droned, on the vowel, as he moved his computer mouse in shaky patterns and accompanied with sporadic clicks and clacks of the keyboard and segments of his source of computer movement. “Aha!” He projected the new seating chart via the projector, of which used light to show the images, rather than an actual, mechanical machine displaying his computer screen; a common feature of the older regions of the school. “So here it is! You may get up, and move to your spot! Oh, and, by the way; if your nose is a bit congested, feel free to leave something in the mug; I’ll clean it up after class.” Sure . . .

  Upon her removal from a previously recumbent position, of which was most strenuous with the twisting of her neck to meet the front of her occupied friend, she peremptorily headed towards the front of the room, as though enthusiastic to be, yet not to being of quite a mood, at all; rather reluctant to leave Raina to her own feckless tumult towards an inability to function within the class’ dictated rules. Despite this, and the weight of the iniquitous matter placed on herself throughout the earliest of the semester, however, she struggled to fight against her urge of conformity and eventual consummation into a greater, concordant hegemony by the greater society that had tossed her enemies and friends so. Awaking to the blinding of the projection, of which its lustrous and incandescent nature reflected harshly upon the tenebrous backdrop of the faint classroom, as the grayed skies were darkening from the approaching seasons of chills. It would not be the only case of unpropitious happenstance for Victoria, as when her eyes had augmented themselves to sharp light that illuminated the room, it had come to reveal a seating chart that appeared to equate to a near form of mockery at Victoria’s attempts to stave off the melodrama that followed her frequently and unjustly, for on the chart listed her new position to be amongst the company of the ilk of James; Mia and Audrey, with one besides, and another behind, with a stranger sitting on the other side of her cramped space. Dredging alongst the silenced shuffles of the other participants, as Sr. Villegas looked with avarice, as the return of his slime-filled mug of nasal discharge had, somehow, gained a significant volume for his excitement to be readily read by Victoria, who had already become pressed with the exhaust that such exigencies had called upon her to fulfill. Along with the miserable state she found herself in, she was now greeted by some of the most unfriendliest faces she had the displeasure of meeting.

  Mia looked towards the endless unfocus in a dazed trance, frowning and jittering with the help of nettled adrenaline, and when Victoria turned her head to gaze behind, Audrey sat in a slouching position, grousing under her breathe, and looking away from Victoria when their eyes eventually dawned on the others’. To her other side was the stranger, though she happened to be upon a similar mood to the others; that of a bout of seeming frustration and sadness, though how Victoria could tell, was a puzzle upon herself that she couldn’t quite concoct a solution, to, and neither to the ones which plagued the people who surrounded her. She hoped to get by the class without disturbing the others, though it seemed as though the teacher had more nefarious intentions, cavorting around the frontal of the classroom before coming out of the shade that contrasted the light that hit so near.

  “Entonces, chicos, I would like to announce that we’ll be taking a quiz on the greetings and common phrases we’ve been learning since last week, which we’ll take on Wednesday. So, today, we’ll be studying for the quiz, by talking to others in Spanish using some of the terms we’ve learned! We’ll be continuing this tomorrow, so don’t worry if you can’t find a partner, today. I will, however, be grading your participation and usage of Spanish, so please talk to me if you have any questions or concerns about this activity. You may start now!” Ugh. With a heavy sigh, as though destitute of options, though in simple reality, it appeared to be, Victoria marched forth with her plans of becoming more social, though the fruition of the plan came to be seen with impediments of the impassible nature that she withheld the opinion her deepest recesses, and her utter inability to reach past the peak, though presented with no choice in the matter, or risk falling deeper within an inescapable pit, became now repeated to the finality of banal. Her disturbance would be met with the predicted consequences, as anxiety’s prophecy seemed to come true.

  “Hey . . . uh . . . como te llamas?” she said to her left; opposite from Mia.

  “Me llamo Lorene,” Lorene said, in a groggy tone, with her eyes as veiny and bulging as Raina’s average standard, though surprisingly to a higher degree, even if it were not normal for her possession of this trait.

  “Me llamo Victoria, y como te sientes?”

  “I don’t know . . . can we just . . . talk, tomorrow?”

  “Uh . . . no me siento muy feliz, sino si muy desanimado. Tal vez . . . como tu?” No response. Muttering under her breath, Victoria said rather unwise words for someone in a compromised position, being that of, “Man . . . why is everyone so grumpy and crass today . . .”, of which Lorene quickly responded to, in a similarly unwelcoming fashion that misted them in unwarranted hatred.

  “W-well, maybe it's because I’m in the presence of someone who cannot read how another person feels!”

  “Hey! Uh . . . that’s not true . . . I think.”

  “Well, to me, it clearly does seem to ring true with you. Such annoying pest.” Despite the clear efforts made by Lorene to segregate herself from Victoria’s line of focus, her stalwart motivation could not hold against an opposing force; especially one of immaculate will, despite first appearances.

  “Ahem. Anyways . . . Dormiste . . . yes, I know we were only supposed to go over the present tense . . . but,” added Victoria, with a preachy addendum to her overly positive mask, of which was likely to poke at the bear that should not have been, for soon, she would realize that she had realized, far too late. “Dormiste . . . bien . . . anoche? It means-”

  “Say . . . what was your name, again?” Please don’t make this difficult . . . my mother . . . ugh, fine. Let’s continue.

  “Can you . . . say that in Spanish, por favor,” said Victoria, with a hint of a giggle lying in the wake of the ending’s tone.

  “No. What’s your name?”

  “I won’t tell you, unless you say it in Spanish,” of which was likely a mistake that she would soon learn to regret, dearly, as Lorene rose from her cramped compartment in a twitchy manner, growing in height, until she towered over Victoria’s seat in a frightful manner that made Victoria act uncharacteristically pusillanimous, though in reality, she was rather used to this condition of life.

  “I’ll give you another chance to tell, me, your name. Go ahead.” What the hell did I do to you?

  With a sigh, Victoria responded with, “Victoria . . . Whitney,” and, rather unexpectedly, Lorene backed away with a jittery jump, before bursting into a wry grimace; a seizing smile, of which was not the least bit pleasant in thought.

  “Of. Course. You. Are. Victoria. Whitney. It’s almost like life is trying to string me in-into t-this death spiral. Ha ha! Of course. As if things couldn’t get worse.”

  “Uh . . . you know me?”

  “I know you? No . . . I wouldn’t say so,” said Lorene, while shaking and flailing as though possessed by a poltergeist consumed with utter lunacy. “B-but. I have been . . . yes. You’re now in the damn flesh; of course I can ask you all the questions now!”

  “Can you phrase them in Spa-”

  “How does it feel . . . to have been with a cheater?”

  “Um, uh, what?” I’ve never talked to her; why does she know this? I guess the incident, last week was pretty . . . large, to say the least . . . “How do you know this?”

  “You aren’t sly, Victoria, you know that? Maybe you should start caring now, cause guess what your cruel . . . cheating . . . little . . . boyfriend did to my . . . brother,” she said, without a gasp of air in sight.

  “Uh . . . what? If you mean, Lucas-”

  “So you do know him. Drop the act. You know what you did; eloping in the limelight, while my brother wasted away in the background. Do you not have shame for what actions you’ve inflicted on others?”

  “Sorry if this is insensitive, or whatever, but . . . I literally don’t know what you are talking about. I’ve already broken up with Lucas, so if you have any grievances, go grouse at him, for all I care. Maybe he deserves it, for all I know. I, at the very least, have not a clue about your brother, and his relationship to Lucas. Sorry to burst your bubble.” Upon the ending of her explanation, Lorene exploded into a sinister bout of mocking snickers.

  “I’m sorry . . . but . . . you expect me to believe that? What do you take me for; an idiot?”

  “Uh, no?”

  “You know what; I’m happy you got dumped by him, but I think you should actually grovel at his feet so he can talk about how ‘cool’ watermelon is. With you. Everyday. Maybe, then, you’ll also get to destroy another relationship, y-you prick!” Despite not being of a contemptuous person, herself, Victoria’s tempest of anger only grew, from there; deviating significantly from her original plan of staying halcyon and rigidly dedicated to study and judgement, and it seemed that the storm had created an updraft, that only carried more problems along, by the minute.

  “Well, maybe,” Mia distantly said, in the near distance, “You deserved it. Considering the complete lack of respect for others, I think this should be a time to reflect on how much of a failure of an empathetic person, that you clearly strive so hard to be. But, I think you won’t ever reach it.

  “Can you please not, Mi-”

  “Well, yeah,” Audrey chimed in, from behind, “She’s a big hypocrite, and not even a good one! She literally ruined everything, and is now crying about it! I say: keep crying, you big baby. I’m sure more of your . . . schlock, will come and give you hugs, and whatever other things you do.”

  “Do you guys, know Vic-”

  “Yeah . . . Lorene, was it?” asked Mia.

  “Yeah.”

  “Oh,” sighed Audrey, in a rather gratuitous manner, “You don’t even know how much trouble she’s been in.”

  “Really?”

  “Yep!” Okay, I know this seems bad . . . but if we can just . . . control the situation . . .

  “Can you . . . all, please stop?” A pause followed, before Audrey broke the silence, with:

  “Can you say it in Spanish?” followed by chortles that reverberated painfully on both sides of Victoria’s ears. She had enough, and with the return to the slimy, painful reality of the school, she miraculously broke out, and with her unshacklement, she rode out freely, into the open light, beyond.

  Victoria ran out of the classroom.