[IC] The lunch club

[manapool1]

"Normally I'd tell you that you've got 2 weeks to get a half semester's worth of work done, but it just so happens I have another student in the same predicament. To save us both a hassle, I've met with all the core class instructors and we've devised one project to encompass just about all of the stuff in each. You'll be paired up with the other who's been out as much as you, and it's up to you all to save your grades after that. I can only do so much for you kids you know. Back in my day..." The droning voice of your math teacher seemed to drone on and on and on.

She was a younger teacher, after some drama about a racist remark from one of the longer-lived teachers at the school, a few anonymous poles from the student body showed that the majority of the older members of the staff had in some way jeopardized the reputation of the school. Over the course of last year the majority of the teaching body was replaced, which was a double-edged sword to the students, making it much harder to keep things organized but giving them a lot nicer, newer teachers. A clear-cut example of this was exactly what was happening now. They had a way with the students that the last group just didn't, they knew they just needed that last little burst of hope in them. The lady, dressed in her Friday best stood up, handing the student(s) in front of her the huge, bulky packet full of requirements and instruction. The front, in big letters written 'MANHATTAN PROJECT'. She snickered at the look she was given as she tossed it to the kid.
"I didn't say it was going to be easy, now did I? But I think you can do it. I'll be seeing you on Sunday, and well, I guess you'll be meeting your other teammates too"

And eventually, Saturday came. With the year about over, not much was happening in the school. Teachers casually typed away, custodians cleaned the halls. There was a distinctly open parking lot for these few students enter thanks to the vacancy of over 2,000 boys and girls. The day was young, warm and nice. A perfect day for being outside, doing anything that wasn't school work. And yet the students where to be stuck here, possibly all day.

[MissCapnCrunch]

Over the weekend Giovanna had been being lectured by her parents, grandma, and older brother. They were a supportive type of lecture, saying how important this opportunity was, and not often did they let kids redeem their mistakes like this. "I know, I know." she spoke, her hands waving in front of herself. Gia would admit that she too was happy for the chance to do this project. As she laid in bed that night she looked over the packet several times, it was going to be tough, but she was willing to work hard to achieve her goals and to be able to graduate on time. She planned on going to cosmetology school and become a hairdresser or makeup artist, she wasn't quite sure yet.

When the morning arrived Giovanna got ready for the day as she would anytime during her school year. She hated being woken up early, but struggled through it every day before, today wouldn't be any different. Sitting in the passenger seat of her father's car he had prepared an ice coffee for her and handed it to her with a gentle smile, "You will do just fine princess, I believe." he leaned over and kissed her cheek. Gia was slightly on the spoiled side, but she tried not to take advantage of it.

In silence they drove to the school.

Hopping out of the car, Gia adjusted her black high waisted shorts and black tee shirt. She was dressed in all black, a sign of mourning as she realized her whole summer would be spent inside the school and not with her friends enjoying the sun. "Bye Papa, I'll call you when i'm done." she called, as she walked towards the school building. She sipped on her iced coffee through painted red lips as she walked through the eerily quiet school. Walking to the classroom they had met in that Friday, Gia realized she had been pretty early compared to her peers. She walked in to the room and took a seat, her packet on the table as she looked through her purse for a spare pen or pencil.

[Azure Flame]

Kyle Richards looked over the packet that night, glad he was able to come back to school. He was going to prove to his parents and his doctors that he could still live a normal school life, and not let his defect define him. He looked it over once more, wondering who he would be working with as he went to bed.

The next morning, Kyle got up early and showered. As he dried himself off, he winced at the big scar in his chest from when they had to cut him open and operate just to keep him from dying. It would take some getting used to. He sighed and got dressed, running downstairs for breakfast. When it was time to leave, he went to head out the door but his mother stopped him. "Please dear, let your father drive you." she said. "But mom, the doctors said exercise would be good for me, and jogging to school will be good exercise." Kyle said. "Just be careful dear, don't push yourself too hard. We don't want you having another episode." "I know mom, I'll be fine." he said with a sigh. Ever since the incident, his mother had been full protective mode, not letting him do anything other than sit in his room, afraid he'd have another heart attack. He hated it, all of it. She treated him like a delicate flower, pitied him, and he hated that as well. Next thing he knew, he was walking through the door of the room, seeing only one other person there as he took a seat. Being the shy guy he was, he just sat quietly and began pulling out his things.

[Ejected]

The bulky packet full of instructions for the class project lay untouched on the dining room table of Mr. and Mrs. Hilton's medium-sized, three bedroom home. Solana hadn't even so much as looked at the packet since it was given to her, leaving it on the table to collect dust over the last couple of days. Now, on that bright and early Saturday morning, the young woman snatched the packet from the table and stuffed it deep inside her drawstring bag, right next to a packed lunch, a brand new spiral notebook and an unopened pack of mechanical pencils. Thanks to her foster parents, Solana was actually prepared for these next two weeks, physically, at least. The married couple had even bought her a new-ish pair of ripped jeans and a black hoodie from the local thrift shop for the first day. She paired this bland outfit with the pair of sneakers she'd spent hours cleaning a few nights ago.

Mentally, however, Solana still hadn't fully recovered from her mini-breakdown. In her mind, school was at the very bottom of her list of priorities, and the only reason she even considered going back to finish was to avoid being kicked out as soon as she turned eighteen. In swift, quiet motions, Solana searched around for her purse, coat, and cell phone, being careful not to wake anyone. When she found her cell phone, which had been tucked in the front flap of her purse, she saw that she had a few text messages and notifications; Solana simply deleted them all and checked the time. It was still a bit early, but she decided that it was time for her to begin her trek to school. "Have a good day, Sol!" Solana heard someone call after her, but she'd already pulled the door shut and skipped down the front stairs. Not much time passed before the young woman was seated on the subway, just a few feet away from a sleeping homeless man. She tucked a crumpled five dollar bill into his back pocket before getting off the train.

Next thing Sol knew, she was walking down the eerily quiet hallways of the high school, the sound of her heavy footsteps filling the silence. Soon, she was walking through the classroom door. She wasn't surprised to see two other people had arrived before her; she was never one to be early. She faintly recognized them, but knew she wouldn't be able to put names to faces no matter how hard she tried. "Good morning," she said simply to the others, not wanting to be rude. She took an empty seat near the others and sat her bag on the desk in front of her. She had to fight the urge to use the bag as a pillow and take a nap, deciding instead to rip open the pack of pencils and place everything neatly on the desk.