Into the Software

Chapter THREE

It is dark, in the dormitories of Gizelle Unicode Site. I lie on my back, staring blankly at the ceiling. A dim light shines at the door to my dorm. Looking, I see the silhouette of a girl. "Rubey?" I ask. The shadow nods, and she moves into my room.

"I can't turn the light on. This was the best torch I could find," she says, holding up the dull lantern.

"Why don't you turn mine on?" I inquire.

"If someone sees, and investigates, that's me out," she replies curtly. "You know the rules, and they might think the wrong thing."

I shudder. "Right." Rubey handed me a copy of the rules, as if I could forget them!

RULES:

There are to be no intimate moments between any contestants.

There will be no bullying, physical or otherwise. This behavior is not tolerated in the slightest.

Should anyone have any questions, you may ask, but it is strictly forbidden to talk to your instructor without a question during any assignment unless spoken to.

Listen to your instructor. Failure to follow this rule will lead to immediate disqualification.

Pay attention to the lectures. If you do not, you will not be capable of following instructions, or briefs.

You must be proficient in at least 2 different coding languages, as well as HTML and CSS.

Failure to follow these rules will lead to disqualification at some point.

"So. Why did you come?" I ask.

"So we can plan on our course of action for getting on the top."

"But, how?! We don't even know what the projects are going to be! How can we plan ahead!" Rubey taps her nose.

"I have my ways," she murmurs mysteriously. "We are going to be making a web page based on what we know about technology and computers. So basically, we're making an interactive web page that teaches people about coding. Plan of action?" I produce a notebook that I had grabbed before leaving home, to stay at a hotel in the middle of the city, and filled it with all the latest computer types and all that awesome coolness. Also producing a pen, I begin scribblings my thoughts into words.

"Are you any good at graphic design?" I ask Rubey.

"It's pretty much what I live for!" she replies.

"Good. You're in charge of designing figures that we will animate." Rubey gasps in indignation.

"I'm just as good as you are at coding!"

"I know, and I'll need you to help me with that too. It's just..." Suddenly, I stopped to think. "Rubey, I thought you came last in your tests?" I questioned.

"Yes, well... I may have purposely faked ignorance in all those tests in school. The problem is, I can't take bullying. Honestly, I would be more likely to punch someone than ignore them. Anyway, it's just?"I'm embarrassed to be telling her this, but what must be done must be done. "I'm no good at graphics." I feel my face burning up with red blush as I say that. I hate admitting that I'm bad at anything!

"That'is OK." Rubey comforts me. "Everyone has weak points..." But even as she said that I sensed that she didn't fully like my allocated job for her. Together, we got out our Microsoft laptops, and began to plan.

"Now, today is a simple task. You must help a particular age group to learn a coding language. Use whatever language you want, but it must be a web page, if not website. This is to demonstrate skill in HTML and CSS script. Please find your partner and start."

I raced to find Rubey, and then to my computer. I crashed into my chair, spinning it around wildly, but as my fingers touch the keyboard, it halts and I begin typing, my hands blurring.

Then I remember Rubey. "Hey, Rubes? How's this looking?"