Happily Unhappy: Season 3

Season 3, Episode 17: A Brick in the Wall

~~~ Oblivion by Labrinth ft. Sia)~~~
Thorne sits at his bedroom desk with the lamp next to his laptop flipped on, providing him enough light to illuminate his keyboard when typing mass school shootings into the search engine, impatiently waiting for the results. Once they load, he scrolls through article after article depicting statistics and details from mass shootings around the country. He zooms in on graphic photos, squinting to make sure he sees the photo for what it is: horrific and everything wrong with this world.
Thorne's eyes drag across the screen, reading details from parents with dead students and interviews between news reporters and survivors. He pulls up the maps and photos of the schools these shootings took place, comparing articles with how the school looks inside so he can get a crystal clear view of what it was like in that building. He goes back up to the search engine, adding in Broadview Heights onto the end of his previous search.
Thorne glances at the time at the lower right corner of his laptop screen. It tells him that it's 3:04am but he doesn't care. He focuses back on the new article loaded on the screen, a photo of Broadview High front and center, the headline screaming at him about the shooting. He reads about Riley coming to school and about what happened in the trauma club room again. It puts a thought into his head. He opens a new tab.
Thorne's fingers dance across the keyboard, punching in, Shooters in mass school shootings. He presses ENTER and waits. Mugshots and school photos of shooters load, staring Thorne in the face. He pulls up all new articles about them, leaning forward until his face is almost pushed up completely to the screen, absorbing all of the information he can.

That following morning, Lynn makes her way down to her kitchen for breakfast, her short wispy hair swooped to one side. She stops in the doorway when she notices the stack of mail no the round kitchen table in the corner. A thick envelope sits on the bottom, waiting to be opened and screaming Lynn's name.
The rest of the house is quiet, with the exception of Celine's muffled singing coming from the shower upstairs. Lynn holds her breath on her way over to the table, rooting through the other thin, useless envelopes until she reaches the one on the bottom, her name on the front. It's from Belmont University in Nashville, Tennessee. Her dream school. Thick envelopes are good, right? They mean good things, they mean acceptance, they mean a future at their school.
Lynn tears it open before she can think more about it and the first thing she finds is the acceptance letter. She wants to squeal with joy, jumping up and down and reading it. Excited, she fishes through the rest of the package for the free shirt and goodies they included, sporting the university. Lynn hears the shower shut off upstairs. Before she can spend any more time celebrating, she stuffs it all into her bag on the kitchen chair so her sister won't see. Celine had a hard enough time choking during her audition into Columbia. Lynn bragging about her own school will only hurt her ego.
~~~(End song)~~~

Josie hurries through the halls of Broadview Heights once she leaves math class, eager to see Troyan. They completely nailed their speech at the administration building the other day, which means schools all over the state are going to open themselves up to groups and clubs like the trauma club they have here. Josie knows that everyone in this club has played a part in making this happen but she and Troyan were there. They executed the plan and it was beautiful.
"Hey, you," Josie greets Troyan on his way to trauma club. "How are you?"
Troyan kind of looks surprised to see her, as though he forgot they go to the same school. "I'm doing all right. Yourself?"
"I am feeling really, really happy today," Josie admits, smiling up at him. "And I was excited to see you and check in."
Troyan arcs a brow. "Check in?"
She nods her head. "Yeah, you kind of panicked before we did the speech the other day," Josie explains. "I wanted to make sure that you're doing better now."
"Oh, yeah, much better."
"Good." She gently bumps him with her hip. "That makes me feel better. I was getting a little worried."
Troyan looks confused again as they walk into the trauma club room just as the bell rings. Ophelia is already hopping up from her chair before Ms. Torres can even greet everyone.
"Before you get started, Ms. T, I have something I would like to announce," Ophelia says proudly, standing with her feet together and her hands behind her back. "Like a lot of you in here, I've been visiting Honor a lot more while she's been in the hospital and I've talked a lot with her mom about how they're holding up and they aren't doing too well."
"Well, duh," Harrison comments. "I don't think any of us are doing too well."
"I meant with medical bills," Ophelia responds. "After the shooting, the doctors had to do a lot to save Honor and she still ended up in a coma. I think it would be helpful to Honor's family if we do a bake sale."
Aisha's eyebrows slide up her forehead. "Did you just say bake sale?"
"I forgot we were in the fifth grade," Celine mumbles under her breath.
"Can the baked goods have weed in them?" Octavia raises her gloved hand. "Because if not, I don't know how well this thing would do."
"There isn't going to be any weed in anything," Ms. Torres speaks up.
"Yes, a bake sale, Aisha." Ophelia shoots her friend a look of warning. "We can raise money for Honor's parents struggling to pay all of her medical bills."
"That doesn't sound like a bad idea," River chimes in. "Those can be really costly, especially with the brain surgery they had to do for Honor."
"We can hold it in the cafeteria," Ophelia goes on. "And during our lunch periods, we can take shifts this week to run it."
"And where are these baked goods coming from?" Troyan stabs his hand into the air. "Because I can't bake worth shit."
Josie smiles over at him, thinking of him baking in a cute little apron.
"Language," Ms. Torres warns.
"I can do the baking," Ophelia volunteers.
"We can all help with it," Lynn says. "Thorne over here makes a mean banana fritter."
Thorne nods proudly. "I really do."
"Okay, then great." Ophelia walks over to the white board and snatches up a marker, clearly the one to be leading the class today. "Let's all pick something then, shall we?"