One shouldn't turn away allies when they are offered, especially in an unfamiliar environment. "What is your experience with reading?" I ask, trying to get a grasp of my new ally's capabilities and usefulness "Well, I'd say I'm pretty well read; though it won't really matter on the first day." "What do you mean?" "Well, you'll see when I give out the assignment." *page_break Next There's something about this scenario that feels odd to me, "Is it common for students to be taking on the responsibilities of teachers?" "Well, I'm student council president." She explains as if it were supposed to be obvious. I suppose in this school that might ordinarily be a valid reason, it's not like I would know, but it still feels like she's taking on more responsibility than should be delegated to a student. "What exactly does a student council president do?" She shrugged, "Whatever needs doing." Fairly vague. Does she purposely use vague definitions in order to allow loose interpretation of what she has power over? Then again, maybe I'm just being paranoid. *page_break Next After the groups have been properly established, Miss Stein stands up again and goes to the front of the class. "Alright, so for the first day we'll be trying to establish where everyone's reading level is; I'm going to hand out some comprehension pieces and you'll write a quick response to the argument presented. Any questions?" One kid raises his hand, "Why is Mrs. Dow asleep?" *page_break Next "Mrs. Dow is just resting. In either case, it doesn't really relate to this assignment." Miss Stein deflected the question without hesitating; she appears accustomed to speaking to large groups of strangers. "Now, if there's nothing else, I'll pass out your assignments. They are not for a grade, but they are due at the end of the hour." The piece of paper is placed in front of me, with a long stretch of writing on it. At a glance, it appears to be a brief description of America in the 1920s, though some of the terms are a bit confusing without prior knowledge about the time period. The paper seems to assume that the reader has had eight years of experience with United States history; someone really should have told it to not make assumptions when coming into contact with the enemy. *page_break Next "Are you doing okay?" Miss Stein says, having retaken her seat near my desk "I'm having some difficulty..." "Oh, do you want help?" *fake_choice #I could use some help *set lucy_stein +10 There is never any harm in taking assistance when you really need it. "Alright, what part are you having trouble with?" "Well, for starters, who's Al Capone?" *page_break Next The rest of the hour passes with Miss Stein helping me, completely neglecting her own work. By the end, I have a general idea of what the 1920s were all about; lots of alcohol and crazy people. At this point, all I have to do is put that to writing. At least that's what Miss Stein is telling me. "I can handle the rest," I say, though I am dreading having to write. Pencils are already uncomfortable to use, I'm not sure how I'll write something a paragraph long. "Are you sure?" "I'm sure," However, as if the universe deliberately tried to punish me for my hubris, I broke the pen after just writing a few words. #I can take care of myself I didn't get this far by pushing everything I didn't like to do on someone else; unless you count dying, I did typically prefer making my enemies do that in my place. But the point is, self-reliance is the only path to survival. "Suit yourself, but you look like you just found the piece of paper that killed your family." "A paper did not kill my parents." I think; I only really knew my mom, and even then 'knew' is a bit generous. Who knows, maybe whoever my dad was choked on a piece of paper somewhere. "What? I was just making a joke..." "Ah yes...humor." These Americans had a cruel sense of it. *page_break Next Miss Stein doesn't bother me again as I try in vain to understand what the paper is talking about. As far as I can tell, in the 1920s there was a warlord named Al Capone, who had invented a new poison and used it to hold his city at ransom, and then forced the inhabitants to begin acting in ways not typical in American society at the time, like forcing them to go to dance halls and listening to jazz; these poor unfortunate souls were known as Flappers. It all culminated when federal agents conducted a raid on his secret bunker and stole his tax information, and then they put him on an island where prisoners were forced to fight for survival. Al Capone finally died when a fellow inmate beat him to death at a tea party with a baseball bat. As far as American history went, it wasn't the most brutal thing I'd heard of them doing; though it was odd that they were open about it. That was somewhat out of character. I write such thoughts on the open space beside the prompt; or try to, at least. The pens are as awkward to hold as ever. "Are you sure you're alright?" Miss Stein asks me again. "Yes, I'm fine. Why?" I say as my pen breaks; it appears the universe is trying to get one over on me. Well, joke's on it because I have twenty more pens. *page_break Next About a dozen pens later, and I'm finally done. "What do I do with this?" I ask Miss Stein "Here, I'll collect them," She takes my paper then stands up, "I guess you can just wait there until the end of the hour." A simple enough assignment. *page_break Next While I'm waiting patiently, I watch the student council president going around the room and taking the papers of the other students. The majority of them seem to have accepted her role as their commanding officer; perhaps it is the title of student council president, but it seems more likely that her demeanor is one that inspires respect in people that talk to her and thus they merely assume she has power over them. Then again, power assumed is very rarely different than actual power, if everyone agrees that someone has it. And when someone assumes power then there will always be someone who challenges it. *page_break Next *goto_scene 1-8fifth-4