The City is a place where everything resets after the lights have gone out: relationships, conversations, memories. Everything is inside an irreversible loop and no one knows it. All except for one girl.
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Jule, a resident of the City...
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Someone tapped my shoulder right as I was getting my books out of my locker. I jumped, the books flying out of my hands. I whirled to find Rom standing behind me.
"Jesus," I rolled my eyes and Rom smiled at me.
"Good morning to you too, Jule," Rom said, crouching to pick up my Trigonometry and Earth Sciences books. He deposited them in my arms as I sputtered.
"What are you doing here? The bell will ring anytime soon!" I hissed. Students from every class hurried past us, footsteps squeaking against the waxed floor. "Your room is from the opposite wing. You won't make it in time!"
"Look at you, concerned about going to class," Rom said. "Why the change of attitude?"
"Yeah, look at you, wanting to drag me into your skipping class charade," I said. Rom pouted. "Hey, I have something I need to think about, okay? I'll see you after the last period."
Rom pursed his lip. He looks disappointed. "Okay, last period," he said. "Don't forget."
"Ha-ha, as if," I said, sticking my tongue out to him. The school bell rang and I turned to run the rest of the way to my classroom before Mr. Trigonometry beat me to it. I know what happens when I am late.
And damn it, why was my classroom at the end of a long-ass hallway?
It's a good thing I was always wearing my pink sneakers so I was up for running anytime. I threw open the back door to my classroom as Mr. Trigonometry slid into the room through the front door. We locked eyes, him staring at me coldly, and me panting like an athlete after a race.
Well, it was a race.
He frowned at me. "Late, Miss Jule?"
"Yeah, can't you see it?" I snapped. Heads turned to me by some kind of synchronization system. By God, one should document the amount of o-shaped mouths, knitted eyebrows, and general looks of confusion I get every single day I decide to be snarky to Mr. Trigonometry.
Now that I realized it, nobody even knows I call Mr. Trigonometry...Mr. Trigonometry. Eh. Not like I was going to say it to anyone's face.
Mr. Trigonometry didn't move from the doorway, his face slowly turning red, either from rage or from embarrassment that a snarky teen could snap at him like I did. Either way, it's nothing new for me since I experience this every time I decide to be late for his class.
"What did you say, Miss Jule?" he hissed, his tongue lisping against his lips. His voice sounded like he just hit his pinky on a bedpost.
I shrugged. "Just start the class and talk about sinusoidal functions like you always do."
"That's quite enough for you, Miss Jule," Mr.Trigonometry said. "Go to the Office."
