A bell rang.
“Time’s up—everyone put your pencils down!” the proctor announced. “Teachers will come around and collect your tests. Make sure your name is written on the front page. Take the time now, if you haven’t already, to prick your fingers and fill in the two bubbles on the last page.”
I slumped over in my seat and pulled my hood up over my head, gasping like I’d run for miles.
If you didn’t score high enough, you and Charlie are doomed.
My hands trembled.
Breathe, calm down. It didn’t seem too difficult, and you got through everything.
“Is it finally over?” Nyx asked from underneath my sweatshirt. “I don’t know what’s going to kill me first, the hunger or the boredom.”
“I told you to stay at home,” I whispered.
Nyx coiled tighter around my stomach. “And leave you to fend for yourself?”
“I’m nineteen—I don’t need ababysitter.”
“Kid, I’m not a babysitter. I’m a full-time nanny, without any of the benefits of getting to kill people. My life is tragic.”
“Oh yes, such a calamity.” My teeth chattered from theadrenaline of taking such a long test. “Also, what nannies get tokill people?” I asked in confusion.
“The good ones,” Nyx said. “Who actually protect the children—obviously.”
Nothing was obvious to me in this situation.
“You’re so weird,” I whispered.
The student sitting in front of me turned around and gave me a strange look.
They wrinkled their nose.
I sank lower in my seat, rubbing at the hair ties on my wrist. The holes in my sweatshirt sleeves mocked me.
You’ve survived high school. You never have to see these people again.
An unfamiliar teacher walked slowly down the rows, collecting tests. She stopped and asked each student a question, so it took forever.
I tapped my foot to a classical melody only I could hear.
The ancient AC sputtered loudly and barely cooled the humid room. Gym lights flickered neon green and hummed as the power grid struggled to sustain so much electricity.
It was late June and humid.
I was trapped with hundreds of students, in the middle row, surrounded on all sides.
When the teacherfinallygot to me, I picked up my booklet and handed it to her, eager to be done and get out.
She took it with a smile and moved to the next?—
“Wait.” She handed me back my test. “You forgot to prick your finger—good thing I checked. Make sure to do both bubbles.”
Taking the sheet from her, I picked up the small finger-prick device we’d all been given and jammed it down on my finger. Blood spurted out.
“Oh, sweetie,” the teacher gasped. “Be gentle with yourself.”
I barely felt it.
