Yvette and Steven
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Yvette wasn't quite sure what she was expecting from high school, but if asked, she might have wished for it to be interesting.

It is distinctly not.

She has quite a lot of paper handouts about what will be in the course, and even some homework that seems to be specifically designed to waste her time and accomplish absolutely nothing of importance. She's met and small talked with a lot of students and only remembers about a quarter of their names. Lunch inches closer, but the end of the day is so very far away.

Ugh. Who invented summer ending? It should have just not, that would have been better for everyone. ... Except people in the southern hemisphere. Eternal winter would probably kill thousands, Yvette can't sincerely wish that just to avoid going to school. And besides, if there weren't seasonal changes to mark the years, humans would find some other arbitrary unit of time measurement to use to damn high school students to what most teenagers agree to be the closest thing to Hell any of them will ever actually live through.

The class before lunch is Biology, and it seems to be filled mostly with sophomores. What, nobody else thought skipping Earth Science was a good move? She supposes she doesn't blame the people around her for not obsessively trying to wring all of the actual education out of the torture facility, or for putting off Biology and it's fabled frog dissections, but still. She's not going to let a little bit of internal frog anatomy stop her, and that involves testing well and putting up with a lot of teachers that think 'advanced' means 'give me so much homework I literally drown in it.' So she can get into a good college and actually learn something.

Paper handouts and books are handed out, the teacher has a mercifully short introductory lecture, and then everyone's told to partner up and label parts of a cell on the aforementioned paper handouts. Why they need to partner up for this is beyond her, but she supposes that it's not all bad that the teacher's trying to get them to make friends. ... Well, it's not inherently malicious. But the rest of the class seems to already know each other and accordingly partner up before Yvette can even attempt to say hello. She feels so sociable and welcomed, and she's making so many new friends already. Good job, teacher.

Is there perhaps a someone else that looks like they're not finding a partner immediately?

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Yes! Yes there is. Over there. A tall kid with dark curly hair sitting in the back corner looking awkward.

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Well, awkward tall kid in the back corner, your savior has arrived.

"Hi," she says, smiling a little. "Want to group up?"

... She suspects he's not the only awkward one here.

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"...Sure," he says, smiling uncertainly.

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"Okay, great." She sits in a nearby empty chair. "I'm Yvette, nice to meet you."

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"Steven. Hi."

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Smile!

She looks at the clock, and looks at the handout, then says, "I predict that this'll take us about five minutes, and then the rest of the class is going to be small talking within groups."

This seems to be funny to her.

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"Yes, that seems plausible."

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The handout takes them about five minutes.

"Well, is there a topic you'd like to small talk about,or should I come up with something, or would you rather not talk?"

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"I'm not sure..."

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Head tilt. "Fair enough. Feel free to tell me to shoo if you'd rather, but if you don't - read any good books, lately?"

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"I've been too busy to do as much reading as I'd like. What about you?"

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"Summer reading kind of dampened my urge to read other books. So, uh, good job, me, coming up with a topic I can't actually talk much about."

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"Congratulations," he says, with a very small smile.

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"Thank you very much, I'm quite proud of my achievement. Students everywhere will look back on this day as the day they were outclassed for picking topics badly." Pause. "Unless you want to hear my opinions on The Catcher in the Rye."

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"Do you have opinions on the Catcher in the Rye?"

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"What are they?"

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"I thought that while the main character was very sympathetic and often kind of hilarious, his depression wasn't an excuse for a lot of the things he did. That being said, I think most of it came about from a lack of a proper support network. The school he was in was - uh, itself, and while his narration's untrustworthy at best I don't think he was exaggerating very much, and it seemed to be the latest in a long string of the like, then to top it off, his parents seemed to not really care about what he wanted and saw his life as a checklist to be filled out instead of a life for him to live. And it definitely could be said that he caused it himself with how he pushed people away, but there is a certain level of - acceptance from other people that he seemed to lack. The person with their head screwed on straightest seemed to be his little sister Phoebe, and I adore how she casually turns his romanticism of childhood on its head by easily being more mature than he is."

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"Okay, I admit, I haven't actually read the book," he says. "But I've heard things about it, and that sounds about right."

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Giggle.

"Thanks. It's not a bad book, actually, but not very good if you want something to cheer you up."

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"I'll remember that."

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"Assigned reading is really not the place to look for happy books."

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"Yeah. Although some English classes are more depressing than others."

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"Yeah. It seems - counterproductive to have teenagers that are already dealing with a lot of emotional turmoil read books on only depressing subjects. Smart and happy are not mutually exclusive."

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"I agree."

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