“Running late I see.” Lauren fell into step beside me as I entered the high school. It was a pretty unusual occurrence. I was always rushed in the morning, but I nearly always made it to school before the first bell rang.

Lauren, however, was frequently tardy.

“Don’t get me started,” I said.

Lauren raised an eyebrow.

I sighed. “I got stopped for speeding after dropping Pete at school in an attempt not to be late.”

“Big fine?”

I shook my head. “White girl privilege. I wasn’t going that fast and it was a first offense so they let me off with a warning.”

Lauren nodded. “Lucky. Okay, on to more interesting subjects.”

“I have no more interesting subjects,” I said.

“That won’t do. I expect some juicy gossip by lunch time.” Lauren said, frowning.

We’d reached my locker. I stashed my backpack and coat. “When do I ever have gossip?” I didn’t know anyone she didn’t know, and she was much better at ferreting out information.

“I’ve got the GSA thing today during lunch anyway. So I won’t see you after school.”

Lauren sighed. “Just be gay or be a robot geek. You can’t be all things to all people.”

“Watch me,” I said. I wasn’t about to give up the GSA, and robotics was non-optional. I was counting on clinching a scholarship from FIRST so I could afford to go to an out-of-state school. I had my eye on Lawrence.

“Also, this whole going to class thing really interferes with my life plans,” Lauren said.

I closed my locker. “Yeah. School would be so much better if we didn’t have to go to classes. Teachers would have an easier job too: no classroom management, no grading. I think you’re onto something.”

Lauren rubbed her hands together. “Maybe we should start a petition.”

“Right. Let’s get on that.” I laughed.

I sailed through my morning classes. So long as I remembered to turn in the busywork that teachers assigned, I could pretty much pass my classes with my eyes closed. Well, except for Mr. Singh’s government class. That really kicked my ass if I didn’t stay on top of things.

At lunchtime I made my way to Ms. Fenster’s room. Judith Fenster, the tenth grade social studies teacher, was faculty adviser for the Gender and Sexuality Alliance, and had been for more than a decade.

It used to be the Gay Straight Alliance, but had gone through a rebranding in the nineties when people realized that LGBTQIA+ had more letters than G.

Fenster’s walls were covered with posters featuring rainbow flags and various GSA slogans from over the years. “Love is love,” “Be who you are,” “All are welcome here,” and that sort of thing. There was a bean bag chair and a stack of floor pillows in the corner.

When I arrived, Fenster was digging through piles of paperwork at her desk. Her frizzy yellow hair was barely constrained by a wide, tortoiseshell barrette that matched her oversized glasses. She was dressed in flowing, wide-legged pants and a riotous blue and yellow floral blouse with bell sleeves.

Fenster glanced up from her papers. “Good. You’re here.”

I set down my notebooks and started moving desks out of the way, putting chairs in a circle for our meeting.

“What’s on the agenda for today?” I asked.

“Posters are in. Other than that, the usual business. Now unfortunately I have a previously unscheduled lunchtime department meeting to get to so we’ll have to table a lot of the carnival planning until later.” She shook her head. “Gotta hate it when they spring crap on you like that last minute. Ben’s in charge.”

Benjamin Adler was the GSA co-chair. He was easily the most trustworthy teenager that I had ever met—not that he was an ass about it. He simply followed through with his responsibilities and expected other people to do the same. No nonsense. I respected him for that.

Fenster slung her giant faux-alligator bag over her shoulder. “Don’t have sex in the room!” She called out in a sing-song voice as she left. It was her customary way to sign off when leaving us to our own devices.

Tea, one of the other seniors, was sitting in her usual seat near the window, her deep brown hair pulled back with a clip. She’d clearly been out in the sun; her usually fair skin had taken on a more golden tone. It was hard not to be jealous. I turned into a lobster the moment it was touched by sunlight.

“Welcome, oh fearless leader,” she said.

I snorted. “Hardly fearless, and not a leader.”

I looked around the room. We were still missing a number of people who usually attended. “Hey, do you know where everyone is?” I asked, but it wasn’t Tea who answered.

“Speaking for myself? Just running late.”

The voice came from behind me from a new arrival. It was an uncomfortably familiar voice.