Chapter 7: EMPTY THREAT?

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Light beams through my eye lids, and my head pierces me in protest.

"Shut off the light!" I whine and throw my pillow over my face.

Silence responds, and I sigh deeply, letting sleep drag me under its warmth.

"Cassandra, you have to get up! We're late!" A hand pushes my shoulder, and I grunt. Throwing the sheets off me, I'm confronted with the last person I expected to see.

"Ida?" I ask, confused.

Ida stares at me, totally oblivious to her intrusion. I peck around the room, my eyes refusing to open all the way. Jennifer sits at her desk, putting on last touches to her make-up, also totally oblivious that I was sleeping across the room from her.

My gaze roams back to Ida's big doe eyes. She is dressed in the normal ITF uniform, but it hangs awkwardly on her boney figure. Her proximity makes my skin crawl. I wave her away and turn my irritation on Jennifer.

"Why didn't you wake me?" I say jumping out of bed.

Jennifer doesn't answer, which is fine by me. Just hearing my own voice makes nails drill into my brain.

My legs wobble me over to my closet. I blink a few times and try to concentrate on my clothes. I pull out a white shirt with a navy skirt. Once changed, I force a hair brush through my hair, my head screaming with each pull. I finally give up and settle on a ponytail. Taking a second, I study my reflection in the mirror.

My normal golden hair is full of greasy tacos, while my eyes are rimmed with red, puffy circles. Almost like I had been crying. Had I been crying? I try to think back and only remember finishing the game. Ida's tattoo. Ida's tears.

How did I get to bed?

How much did I drink?

Before any questions can come out of my mouth, my tablet chimes. I grab it and watch the ITF notification circle around my screen. I unfold it three time to read it.

"What homeroom do you have?" Jennifer asks, also holding her tablet.

A smile spreads over my face, until I look at my reflection. This is a disaster.

"Dr. Fossil." I whisper.

Dr. Fossil, the most highly accredited professor of the ITF, whose great-great-great grandfather invented the Test, who also sat on the ITF board, and who also mentored my mother as an undergraduate.

He was perfect.

But his class starts in five minutes.

***

"Hi, Hon!" Emma waves me over with a big smile, but as I draw closer her nose wrinkles, "You look like death," she leans closer to whisper, "Had too much to drink?"

"Oh, Emma. This is awful." I whine. I plop my butt in the chair next to her and lean my head on her shoulder.

Even though I'm thrilled to have Emma in my homeroom, nothing can bring up my mood. While I was walking to the middle tower, I debated whether I should play sick and ditch homeroom, but knowing Dr. Fossil's connection with my mother, he would go out of his way to see if I was alright.

Why did I think drinking before my first day was a good idea?

Emma pats my head, "Don't worry, maybe he won't even notice that you're here."

I shake my head and transfer it to my hands. "No. You know I have to say something. It would be rude. Plus, I have to make a good impression, even in my," I run my fingers through my hair, "state."

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