SUPERGENE

Chapter 05

The excitement of filing through Rosenstein High School's front doors immediately melts away all of my lingering unease from the incident at the shop.

We're promptly greeted at the entrance by a middle-aged woman with piercing blue eyes, full red lips, an unnaturally smooth complexion. She's wearing an electric blue cardigan with matching chunky blue platform heels. She passes out the event schedule to Mr. Miller and hands us each a marker and a name tag sticker to fill out.

"Hello darlings!" She drawls, her gaze barely skimming over each of us until her eyes reach Mr. Miller. Why bother addressing us? "Which school do I have the pleasure of welcoming this evening?"

I sneak a peek at the woman's name tag: Mrs. Sterling. With the sheer amount of jewelry piled onto her, I'd say it's fitting.

"Oak Grove," Mr. Miller says as he puffs out his chest. Good grief.

Mrs. Sterling looks down at her clipboard, making a big show of reading through what seems like a list of school names before tapping it with the tip of her pen. She breaks out in a satisfied, toothy smile.

"Here we are!" She trills. "Oak Grove Highschool. Looks like we're all ready to go. Before I escort you to your section of seats, I just have a few rules to go over with you all."

After some introductory garble that I barely listen to— I swear Mrs. Sterling doesn't blink the entire time she's talking, it's as if her face is frozen in place— and after scribbling my name down in my favorite color red and sticking it to my jacket, she ushers our group to our designated row of seats.

On the walk there, I watch in amusement as Audrey slaps her name tag right on her left rear pocket. Real classy stuff.

The first thing I notice while making our way to the auditorium is the array of framed student artwork covering the walls, the next painting or print barely hanging a foot away from the last. I find myself fixated on every one.

I've never been able to draw realistically like those really talented artists. Though, I love to paint. On occasion I'll even dabble in photography using my mom's old DSLR. But my most beloved hobby would have to be running. Trust me when I say it's the only physical activity I'll ever have eyes for. 

Originally, it started as a way to release pent up energy after being cooped up in my house all day, but over time it evolved into my morning ritual. I would have to do a two mile run before school for my brain to function the rest of the day. I love that out in the forest preserve near my house, it's just me and the trees. No schoolwork to stress about, no debate to prepare for, and especially no drama. It all melts away.

Despite my love for running, I would never turn to the sport's competitive side and join the Oak Grove track team. Plus, my mom has a strict no sports rule in place, so it's not as if I had a choice to begin with. 

Don't get me wrong, I've had plenty of fantasies about what it'd be like to enroll in soccer or basketball just to win every game and become the star player. Maybe I could earn a few sports scholarships for college. Maybe the coaches would see right through my act. Either way, I don't think I could be very inconspicuous. 

Who can be bothered with crafting a scheme as complicated as that anyway? Just thinking about learning all the rules of the sport and all the games I'd need to play makes my body preemptively ache.

Ever since starting public school, which has super early hours, I've definitely been slacking off on my morning workouts.

I avert my eyes from the art for the art for the rest of the walk.

...

Finally, after a maze of corridors, we arrive at our section in the lively auditorium. People engaged in lively discussions occupy nearly every seat, save for an open section for our school. I shuffle down the row to the spot next to Lucia and the rest of our group fills in the seats around us.