Part 1: Blair Silver

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You know those people who are so much of something that it seems kind of unreal? Like, the amount of whatever it is that they're channeling is just so impressive, and it's like they must have been handmade to be the epitome of that thing.

That's Blair Silver. 


He's the epitome of teenage cool. Like, you just see him, and he looks like he's straight out of a movie where he's the hero, riding around on a motorcycle with a leather jacket and cigarette and aviators and giant biceps and gorgeous skin and perfect hair- because he does. He makes it look absolutely effortless, and while that usually means there's a ton of effort going into it, it's seriously hard to tell. 


Like, there are other guys, right? Cool guys, with nice cars and mussed hair and big muscles and hot girlfriends, but Blair Silver? He's on another plane of cool. He's like, untouchable. Nobody can touch him. Like, literally, nobody does. He doesn't interact with anyone, but not because he's an outcast- everyone else is all just so much less cool that associating with us would taint his own coolness which is otherwise un-taint-able. He's intimidatingly cool. Even adults are scared of him. He seems more like an illusion of ultimate coolness personified than a real person. It's insane. 


Anyways. I should probably introduce myself. 


My name is Theodore Rose. I go by Theo. 


"Theo!" 


See?

I turn to the pretty blonde girl calling my name and smile widely. "Jilly!" 


She sits down next to me, grinning. "Rachel said she'd be here in a sec, she just needs to see a teacher or something." 


I frown a little, concerned. "Did she say why?" 


Jillian shakes her head. "I saw that she went to the chem lab, though, so it might have something to do with the last lab we had." 


I hum a little, slightly worried for her. Rachel's parents are super strict and check her grades constantly, so it'd be basically worst-case scenario for her like, entire life if she got an insufficient grade. 


Jillian and I start on our cafeteria-bought lunches until a tray is dropped on the table across from us, bringing our attention to a distraught Rachel as she sits across from us, sighing heavily. 


"What happened?" I ask, trying not to be pushy but also curious. 


"I got a 60 on a lab," she grumbles, and Jillian and I both stare at her. 


"A 60?" Jillian gasps. "You're kidding." 


"I wish," she grumbles. "My parents nearly slaughtered me when I got home from school yesterday." 


I give her a sympathetic look. "Did Mr. Jacobs agree to raise your mark?" 


Rachel scowls. "Not unless I redo the entire thing. Which would mean re-doing the actual laboratory during lunch hour sometime, which would mean so much less time than in class. Like, seriously! How am I supposed to finish an entire titration during one lunch period?" 


"That sucks," I agree. 


"I've gotta do it though, because my parents will, like, kill me otherwise. So I've just gotta hope for the best, I guess." 


"What if you get a lower mark on the redo?" Jillian asks, and Rachel glowers even more. 


"Then he'll use that instead. He said that he has to 'post the mark that demonstrates my most recent understanding' which is ridiculous, because the redo will be rushed and definitely won't show my most recent understanding because I'll have no time to actually do the lab!" 


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