If I Write, Does It Matter?

As it should be

Homeroom was exactly as miserable as Seora remembered.

Fluorescent lights buzzing like angry insects.

Students slouched over desks.

A clock ticking loud enough to be considered psychological warfare.

Their homeroom teacher, Mrs. Goh, sipped her coffee like caffeine was the only thing keeping her alive.

Seora slid into her seat by the window. Jiwoo plopped down beside her, immediately pulling out her phone despite the giant NO PHONES poster taped right in front of them.

"Jiwoo," Seora whispered, "Mrs. Goh is literally looking this way."

"She can't catch me if she's too tired to care," Jiwoo whispered back.

A moment later, Mrs. Goh looked up.

"Jiwoo."

"Yes?"

"Put the phone away."

Jiwoo sighed dramatically, like the universe personally wronged her, and shoved it into her skirt pocket.

Seora bit back a laugh.
This was normal.
This was their routine.

Morning announcements droned on about club registrations, exam forms, and a reminder that the library printer was broken (again).

Seora doodled a little crescent and star in the margin of her notebook without thinking. Habit. Maybe obsession. Whatever. She closed the notebook before Jiwoo noticed.

First period was Math.
An immediate tragedy.

The teacher entered with a stack of worksheets thick enough to be a weapon. "Pop quiz," he announced.

The entire class groaned.

Seora stared at the paper. Numbers. Letters pretending to be numbers. Symbols that looked like tiny insects.

Jiwoo leaned over and whispered, "If I die, tell my mom I loved her."

"You're not dying. You just hate math."

"I hate suffering."

Seora fought a smile and focused on her quiz. Her brain hurt. Someone behind her muttered "What in the actual hell is this?" Someone else dropped their pencil and never picked it back up, possibly out of despair.

By the time class ended, half the students looked spiritually defeated.

"Lunch," Jiwoo declared. "We skip directly to lunch. Let's cancel the rest of the day."

"You say that every morning," Seora said.

"And one day, I'll be right."

Second period was Literature, which Seora loved. She actually listened. Jiwoo slept with her eyes open. The teacher read poems with the passion of a man who once dreamed of being a novelist but now graded tests for a living.

Third period was History, which should've been Seora's happy place.
Keyword: should've.

Mr. Han, the history teacher, walked in with bandages on his finger.

"I fought a stapler," he said. "It won."

Jiwoo whispered, "This man needs a vacation."

Seora whispered, "He needs supervision."

Mr. Han started class by pointing at a map of old dynasties. "Today, we'll discuss collapsed kingdoms and what causes societies to fall."

Seora perked up slightly.