The counselor's body twists at the waist, "You're...going somewhere after school?"

"Er..." It comes off as stiff as Órfhlaith's posture. "Yes. That is what I said."

Untwisting her face and body, she grins with teeth and draws in on Órfhlaith."...I would love to let you out, Órfhlaith, but—"

"It's a school trip. From school."

The counselor's face draws into her neck fat, a bit listless.

"You'll see the proof later. I'm not wrong." Órfhlaith adds, mincing towards the door.

"Oh, Órfhlaith! I need to do, the, uh, survey!"

Órfhlaith spins back to the couch. Same unbothered mug. Whipping out her board, seemingly from nowhere, the counselor mulls through the questions.

"Do you know what day it is today?" 

"Wednesday."

"Are your medications giving you any problems?"

"No."

"Like say, uh, nausea?"

"No. I did say that."

"Uh, yes, right, uh...do you believe they are working? The medication, of course."

"I suppose so." 

If Órfhlaith paid an ounce more of attention, she'd notice the counselor rolling her eyes.

"No mood swings?"

"You're not wrong."

"No mood swings, alright," Even with the lack of medicine, something veered in Órfhlaith's stomach. She anticipated the obvious. The counselor continues, "Are you going to hurt anybody or yourself?"

The apartment drops into silence. 

No sick. No vomit. 

And suddenly drags out of silence as Órfhlaith works up a peal of giggles. The counselor still couldn't tell if she, herself, laughed out of genuine humor or to cope. Soon, she stands the only one laughing as Órfhlaith rushes to the door. She tries to catch Órfhlaith again.

"Say! Er, when do you think you'll be back?"

"From..."

"From the, uh, vacation thing?"

"Three weeks." 

The door slams in the counselor's face. 

Órfhlaith rocks back in forth in her seat. The sides of her lips could touch her ears-- it surprises Órfhlaith as much as it does her friends. You wouldn't have heard it mentioned around the cafeteria table, however.

A blonde girl Órfhlaith doesn't recognize takes hold of the conversation, "There's, uh...shit, there's this one chick...she's always lurking around the hallways."

"Oh my gosh, that's the one with the, like, the weird science shirt, right?"

Blonde nods. "Yeah, yeah! The fuckin'...the fuckin' weird science shirt. I swear to God, she's always looking at me."

"Doesn't the musk...bother her?"

"The musk?"

"I mean, yeah, she wears that thing almost all the time. I've seen her!"

"Nah, she fuckin' smells," As Blonde rocks side to side, near synchronizing with Órfhlaith, she acknowledges Órfhlaith for a second and turns back to her audience. "Smells like a, like a, like a...goddamn pigpen!"

Adding to the orchestra of noise that is the lunchroom, everyone in the cafeteria laughs, guffaws, etcetera. Órfhlaith continues to stir. Everyone pitches in a few one-liners and jests, but the memory of The Broad In The Weird Science Shirt is brought back to life with a friend of her girlfriend. Before Órfhlaith reminisces on the fact that her girlfriend never goes to school, that friend speaks, 

"Don't laugh."

Everyone's eyes drag to the girl as she eyes her phone. In case no one heard, she repeats herself, "Don't laugh at her. That's Aubrey Renee, Special ED, she probably doesn't even know she's bothering you."

They drag their eyes back to their usual stations and murmur amongst themselves. Órfhlaith's ears pick up a vague, "I'm sorry." Blonde speaks up for the cast, "Well... thanks for giving us a head's up...didn't know that."

Pressing her thumb on the roof of her mouth, Órfhlaith prepares to say something, still rocking. 

Blonde acknowledges Órfhlaith again. "Hey, girl...is this one a sped, too?" A few snickers, some even being from Órfhlaith's friends. The friend lifts her head by a slight and drops it down again, "Don't know. She just does that." 

"You," Órfhlaith mutters, pointing to the last person speaking. She's still eyeing her phone. Everyone's conversations roadblock her. "You!" She yells through barred teeth. The phone friend jolts up. "You know about one Juliana Chaskes. Am I wrong?" 

All looks aim at Órfhlaith. She keeps her signature smile, yet everyone wears different varieties of "What the fuck?" on their faces. Blonde turns her head to Órfhlaith. "You know...word of advice," Leaning closer, she near yells into Órfhlaith's ear, "Don't mention...don't even mention her name, 'less you wanna die."

"Alright!" choruses one in front of a crowd of sedated students. "Do any of you know Jesus's family tree?"

No response. Ed doesn't even know that the teacher stopped talking about his failed marriages, his fingers are at work on his phone. anything changed w/ the game plan? wht if they contact the school

"That's insane, right? Some divine, heavenly prophet having a mom and dad? What? Can you just imagine some offshoot of God having to deal with his Mom going through his stuff?"

A message pops up. It's Reign. No. Why is your grammar such shit??  ߘ‚ߘ‚ߘ‚

Ed's face flattens. whatever im in class rn.

"I mean, it kind of just.. really takes the mysticism...and...I don't know. Does it change the way you all see Jesus?" The teacher keeps a smile, jaw looking to capture a thousand flies.

Two arms spring up. He chooses the one in the back. "I'm an atheist...if you don't know, that means I don't believe in God. When do you think I can get my class changed?" The teacher simpers and shakes his head. He points at the remaining hand. "I thought Jesus's father was God?" He takes a moment to digest that. Truly poignant.

Órfhlaith's finally wriggled into the conversation. Hello Please Stop Texting; @ Science. Love U Reign ;;;;;7 Hi Ed

"You always call on me, Paul!" One kid screams. It discourages Ed off his phone, but not for more than a second. "First off...why are you calling me by my first...where'd you even find that out?"

"You're always at my house, talking to my Mom..." 

"I don't even know you! I don't know you!"

"Okay, Paul Tarsus! Sure, you don't, but can you stop calling on me?"

"...Who should I call? Who should I call?"

Ed feels something brush his hair, but he disregards it. 

"Edward!" He whips his head upward at the teacher. Before Ed could even part his lips, his hands and his teacher's hands uptook a mele for the phone. Paul reigns victorious. "You can have this after class. I'm TEACHING RIGHT NOW!"

Ed and a small percentage of the class watch as Mr. Tarsus scrolls the screen and throws the phone onto his desk.

A grueling fifty minutes pass and the bell rings. Ed stays in his seat, thinking Tarsus would hand it over, but he's squinting at the screen. The classroom flushes out of its population. Ed gets antsy and yells, "Hey...give me back my phone!"

Mr. Tarsus yells as well, "Don't... don't talk to me like that! Geez! Don't your parents ever tell you that? Don't talk to your elders like that?"

Ed's deprived of any type of answer. Tarsus advances.

"I want to tell you that...you shouldn't turn to drugs, just because... you know, a class is hard."

"...What?"

"Oh, don't play dumb, you talk to Reign."

"That's...just...my friend. I think."

"So...a field trip's an actual field trip? What does 'game plan' mean?"

"...I...don't know?"

Mr. Tarsus gives out a deep sigh and hands Ed his phone.

"Our disposition's simplistic," Reign hacks. She takes another drag out of her blunt as if there weren't thousands of eyes taking a peak at her, what she was doing, her friends, and her funny car. "We...okay, enough of the posh talk, we migrate around this thorp, we look for this cunt with the fifteen locations I inscribed, but first--"

"We're in school. Am I wrong?" 

"Babe, we're outward of school. We're fine."

"Yeah, I guess, but people are looking at us funny," Ed mutters. "And, hey, will we be able to get back home by the time we're finished? I don't want my pare--"

"Hey, let's just get in the car, kid."

Reign rushes to the passenger seat, nearly tearing the door open for Órfhlaith. When that business was handled, she threw herself into the driver's.

"Oh, that sounds like a nice idea!" The counselor gushed. "Well, I will SHIT AND FARDED.."