Once Mr. Stanton had become distracted by something else, Pen twisted around in her chair to face Dave. She looked incredibly tired, and most of all, incredibly annoyed.

"What do you want?" she hissed at him, her tone acid. While the way she said her question answered Dave's question, he decided to ask anyway.

"You feel like-" he paused, and looked around, then began again in a quieter tone. "-shit, this morning?" He quickly snapped his head back to where he could see Mr. 
Stanton, finishing up whatever task he had decided to get preoccupied with. His headache intensified quickly leaned over again, wincing.
"Listen, we should get everyone else that was in our group yesterday after school," he asked Pen. "I think that room had something in it." His headache reached began to crescendo even more. He was feeling more terrible by the second. Shortly after, Dave raised his hand. Mr. Stanton paused mid-way through his lecture, and blinked.
"Yes, David?" he asked sternly, adjusting his glasses.

"[i]May[/i] I go to the bathroom?" Dave asked, leaning on the desk slightly, but not noticeably. Mr. Stanton nodded, and Dave slowly walked out of the classroom, down the hallway, and into the men's washroom. He leaned over the sink, breathing heavily. This wasn't a cold or the flu at all, something totally different, he thought to himself. He started to cough uncontrollably, tasting blood in his mouth. Once it has subsided, a strange feeling washed over him. He glanced up at the mirror and nearly fell backwards with astonishment at what he saw. His eyes, far from their normal blue, had become a bright gold.