02 | cheese balls

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The learning commons was cramped. Students filtered in and out to type up or print out assignments at the last minute. Behind the librarians' counter, the printer whirled and spat out papers in its signature slow fashion. I swore softly, holding my breath as the printer finally released my last piece of paper.

My head snapped up to catch the time on the clock. It read: 8: 16. The first bell went off in four minutes; I knew for sure that I was going to be late. I slammed the two dollars coin on the counter, snatched the papers from the hands of the librarian and turned on my heels. My phone vibrated in my pocket with a text; It was from Laleh.

im at ur locker. where are u?

My fingers flew over the keyboard, and I responded, stay there; im on my way. ill meet u there.

I was past the detectors before the librarian called out to remind me of the 50 cents change I'd fortified. I hustled out of the learning commons and up the stairs, taking two steps at a time. Bodies pressed into me up the stairs and down the hallway as other students scrambled to make it to their first-period class. The sounds of lockers slamming and squeaky, shuffling shoes from the morning drizzle resonated down the hallway. I was out of breath and panting like a dog playing fetch by the time I reached my locker.

Laleh was waiting there and snatched the now crumpled papers from my hands without so much as a greeting. She looked down at the three-page biology lab report, her nose turned upward. "Why is it so short?"

"Ms. Whaites is a fan of brevity." I stretched out my hands, and she begrudgingly slapped a 50 dollar bill in my palm. She'd been desperate, on the verge of failing the course, so I might have slightly exaggerated my fees. I tucked the money into my back pocket then turned to open my locker as the final bell went off.

Fuck.

Standing in the now deserted hallway, I waited--under the dutiful eye of Mr. Thompson--for the national anthem and the announcements to play out on the overhead speakers in the ceiling.

I shuffled down the hall, catching glimpses of other classes, through the windows, that had already begun on their lesson.

Looking through the sole window beside the door of my homeroom, Canadian and International Law, I saw Mr. Ortiz standing behind his podium. He was wearing the red geometric vest that we'd given to him last year and his usual tan pants, held up by a belt. His pen tapped on the surface of the podium as he probably waited for an answer for a question he'd asked. I twisted the doorknob then entered.

"Affirmative action is a heavily controversial law--" Mr. Ortiz stopped, his gaze zeroed in on me from behind his podium. Heads swivelled, turning around, to also look at me. My skin crawled with every growing second that passed as I stood by the door, and they continued to stare. "Addy, it's nice of you to decide to join us." He looked down at what I assumed to be the attendance and ticked off my name. Looking back up to find me still standing by the door, and he pointed to the general direction where I sat. "If you could, please take a seat?"

I scrambled to my seat, ignoring the snickers that trailed after me. Anne greeted me with a freckled grin as I dropped my bag on the ground and took the seat beside her. She was the only person I talked to in class, and our relationship based purely on mutualism. I didn't spend 75 minutes wishing to gouge my eyes out in an extremely graphic fashion; she got to copy off my tests. We played besties in class, everyone comes out on the other side a winner.

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