Irked Student: How did this happen? [waves piece of paper] I’m not in either of the study-halls I wanted.
Fr. Pax [headmaster, chief of the schedule software]: That’s because Sr. Perpetua and Mrs. Scales have both asked that you not be in a study-hall with [Overeager] or [Senior Prankster].
I.S.: But we don’t talk. Much.
Fr. Pax: [silent look over glasses]
Mr. Dvorak [passing behind Fr. Pax]: [snort of disagreement]
St. Scholastica [the Dean]: Was there an exam today or has low pressure moved in? I see a lot of dark clouds in the Middle School wing.
Miss ABX [new 7th and 8th grade math teacher]: The first pre-algebra quiz was today.
Sr. Scholastica: All is explained.
I was working with the door open but the lights down, and overheard:
Sophomore boy: So, what are you going to paint on your parking spot?
Jr. Boy: Haven’t decided. Maybe my dog. Or a stop sign.
Sr. Prankster: I wanted “broom parking. All others will be toad” but then Mrs.—
Silence from the commons, aside from adult footsteps. I glanced up and saw one of the senior math instructors walk by.
Jr. Boy: So, [pause] what did you get for number ten?
Sr. Prankster: The cube root of one half x over three, but that doesn’t seem right . . .