correct
put your phone down!
don’t look until tomorrow!!!
Friday, 2:35AM
just checking
Friday, 2:46AM
and again
Friday, 3:02AM
Mal Flowers, will you be my nonbinary romantic couple member of an easy to say name of your choice?
Friday, 4:47AM
Yes.
(:
CHAPTERTWENTY-THREECINCINNATI VIRAL
On the first of November, Mal made it to school with a couple hours of sleep, a backpack full of illicit zines, and a curious quiet between them and Maddie as they turned their separate ways at the entrance: Maddie to her first class, Mal to meet theMixxedMediastaff at their locker to divvy up their bundles and stash the rest.
After Nylan and Parker, James and Alex, and Kodi and Stella (who was first in line) left with their stacks of zines, Mal also got to experience firsthand why so many students chose the lockers as the place to sneak in before-class kisses. Though they still hadn’t figured out a replacement word forpartner, being Emerson’s whatever-that-was certainly did have its perks.
So did having a larger print run, it turned out.
It was as if the Holmes administration banning them from selling zines on campus made the zines more exciting—a little rebellion for the affordable cost of two dollars, and the Holmes students were buying. And though it still made Mal’s palms sweat profusely whenever they bent a rule—however stupid they thought the rule was—to sell one, they had to admit, they felt more than a little punk rock doing it.
It also made them acutely aware of the eyes of teachers, which they felt following them from class to class. Unlike last issue, there was now a distinct presence of eyes on them as they quietly sold the zines—a feeling both James and Kodi echoed as they ran into each other at Mal’s locker, refilling their stashes before third period.
So it wasn’t terribly surprising when, as Mal sat down next to Maddie in History after lunch, Mr. Hardy said, “Mal, they need to see you in the central office.”
“Theywhat?” hissed Maddie, looking at Mal with a mix of panic and shock.
“It’ll be fine,” Mal whispered back, trying to look like they believed this—and, by the look Maddie gave them, failing spectacularly.
The walk to the central office was long and strange, one Mal had never in their Holmes High career made under these circumstances. The last time they’d been called to the office was in eighth grade, and Mal felt very much like Eighth-Grade Mal walking down the empty hall now. About halfway there, they ran into Emerson, who looked entirely more at ease than Mal felt, their brain page steadily filling with key-smash curse words. Without a word, she took their hand, and they made the walk together. The press of Emerson’s palm against theirs settled the pounding of Mal’s heart into something more manageable.
But it was a slight surprise that Mal felt strangely calm when they heard the words: “The principal would like to see you two.”
Mal and Emerson slid into hard plastic seats in front of thedesk of Dr. Murphy, a young Black woman in a bright blue blouse. After fixing both of them with A Look, she said, “I assume you both know what you’re here for.”
Emerson said “No idea” at the same time Mal said “Yeah.”
Dr. Murphy raised an eyebrow.
“I’m going to save us all some time and cut to the chase,” she said. “It’s come to my attention that you haven’t been madeformallyaware of the school’s no-soliciting policy. So I would like to officially make you—and anyone you might be working with—aware that it’s against the rules to sell any items for non-school-sanctioned clubs or publications on the school’s property.”
“Hmm,” hummed Emerson. “Thatisgood to know.”
Mal shot her a disbelieving look. But with it came an unfamiliar sensation in Mal’s chest. It took them the length of Emerson and Dr. Murphy’s stare-off to pin it down as anger.
“So I assume,” Dr. Murphy said, “that if you had been doing so prior to this meeting, you now understand from this formal, official warning, that such activities will land you in in-school suspension and any material in question would be confiscated.”
