For a school funded as well as Alexander State, the auditorium chairs were surprisingly uncomfortable. They were built from thin beige plastic, with just enough support to stop the chairs from collapsing underneath you. On the stage, a waist-high podium stood before the assembly of mostly empty chairs, flanked by navy blue curtains that fluttered in an undulating manner. A circular emblem with the same heroic visage as the statue in the courtyard was attached to the podium.

The storm outside continued to howl through every crack it could find, making its approach known. If there was anyone still outdoors, they had mere minutes to find shelter before the downpour began.

Jane was evidently the first to enter the auditorium. The over-polished tiles squeaked against her sneakers as she skirted the edge of the seats, searching for a relatively quiet place to sit.

Her phone buzzed in her jeans. Curiously, she pulled it from her pocket.

[9:22]Beatrice: look who decided to log in

[9:22]Ryder: sry, couldnt log in last night

The text from Ryder was colored as if Jane's phone itself had sent it. Obviously, she had forgotten to log out of his account the night before. Definitely forgotten.

[9:23]Ryder: so wats up?

[9:23]Beatrice: got the rest for u bad boy, meet at lunch

The text ended with Ryder sending a cartoon image of a dog giving a thumbs up.

Jane's curiosity resurfaced, stronger than ever. And along with it, her shame.

Biting her lip, she quickly tapped the button to log out of Ryder's account. This was none of her business. If they were dating, she had no right to see their conversations.

Right?

Jane, coming back to herself, found an acceptable seat somewhere near the back. There, alone in the expansive auditorium, she stewed. She batted one thought against another, trying to will herself to make the right decision.

The voice, ever antagonistic, chastised her at either point. What she was doing was wrong, as it always said.

Another buzz. Jane felt a wry amusement at the fact that her phone was buzzing more in one morning than it had in a month.

[9:36]Vic666: heads up theres another snoreminar

For once, Jane found herself ahead of Victoria. Perhaps running into Ryder in the hallway had been a good thing.

The double-doors at the other end of the auditorium slammed open, startling her. The storm outside has picked up. She hadn't realized how long she'd been sitting there, thinking.

The cacophony of dozens of conversations echoed throughout the auditorium as more and more teenagers entered, filling the chairs.

High above on the stage, the principal stepped out from somewhere behind the podium, pausing to survey his slowly growing congregation. He straightened his tie with stiff, practiced motions.

She glanced around awkwardly, looking for Victoria. Her friend was nowhere to be found.

A tap on her shoulder drew her attention to the right, but it had been a trick. Victoria laughed and took a seat to her left. She smiled.

"Snoreminar? Really?" Jane asked, raising her eyebrows.

It was a truly god-awful pun.

Victoria laughed. "Just you wait. I promise, you'll be asleep before lunch."

Lunch. Jane had momentarily forgotten the texts between Ryder and Beatrice.

The thin plastic seats were almost entirely full. Rows upon rows of students sat, crowded together, their voices fusing into a single chaotic mess of noise. The principal cleared his throat to test the microphone.

"Good morning, Alexander state," he said, his voice amplified by speakers near the stage. The sound quality was crisp enough that one could make out the nauseating sounds of his lips smacking together. "I welcome you to the assembly. Today, we have invited a host of former Alexander alumni, just like you will all be once you have graduated."

Beside Jane, Victoria's painted fingernails tapped away on her phone. Jane could see her trading messages with one of her classmates, the phone emitted a quiet vibration for each time they sent a text to her.

The principal was still speaking, up on the podium. "These former students will be demonstrating the importance, or shall I say- gravity, of being straight edge. Of ensuring that you keep yourselves pure, and as far away from narcotic substances as possible."

A boy somewhere amongst the crowd booed, his voice punctuating the principal's lecture with a mocking finality. Staggered laughter and cheering followed this outburst. It seemed that the general student body, much like Jane, did not want to be here.

The principal cleared his throat again, glaring in the direction of the boy. "Many lives have been derailed because of the danger that illegal drugs pose..."

His voice seemed to fade into the background as Jane's interest rapidly waned. Victoria elbowed her.

"What?" Jane whispered.

"Over there. That's Beatrice Ruth." Victoria was covertly pointing at a tall brunette dressed in a scarf and plaid skirt.

Jane, surprising herself, disliked her immediately. Something inside her instinctually knew that Beatrice and herself would not get along.

"What about her?" Jane asked.

"She's, like, the queen bee. I heard she's trying out for cheerleader captain, and all the other girls are too scared to oppose her. Combine that with the fact that she's dating Ryder Jackson, and you've got the queen bee of Alexander High. Nobody crosses her."

The idea that Jane's suspicions about Ryder and Beatrice were true disturbed her in a way she didn't quite understand. She did not like the idea.

But, instead, Jane rolled her eyes sarcastically. She never cared much about the happenings and drama around school, but it seemed to be one of Victoria's many hobbies. Her friend always had her ear to the ground.

And yet she couldn't help but continue to stare at the future cheerleader captain, wondering what life would be like if Jane was in her place. Would she be as intimidating as Victoria makes Beatrice out to be? A 'queen bee', wielding the power of social exclusion?

No, if she were that popular, she'd be nice. She'd work to improve everyone's lives, to help the people around her. Everyone would love her, she reassured herself. She would be nothing like Beatrice Ruth.

The principal, much to the relief of the students, was wrapping up his exceedingly long speech. "And with that, I am pleased to introduce you all to Mister Jackson, who has provided a generous donation that allowed us to host this educational seminar."

A tall, balding man in a crisp suit stepped onto the stage. Sharp emerald eyes under a stern brow took in the crowd of teenagers as he strode before them. A surprisingly modern looking watch glittered from his wrist, peeking out from beneath his sleeve.

"Good morning, students. I am sure many of you recognize me from my campaign fliers," Mister Jackson began, folding his hands over the top of the podium.

His voice boomed across the room like a veritable trumpet, startling a few kids from their sleep. Even if the speakers had been absent, his voice would have been enough to command the room.

"Or perhaps you may know me from my position as a member of the school board," Jackson continued, "however, that is not the reason I am here today. Not in the slightest. On this morning, I come to you as a friend, as a father, and as someone who feels concern..."

Jane's attention faded again as Jackson rattled off a speech that he surely did not write, or even care about. While he read from no cards or speech notes, Jane could tell that he had simply memorized the words. The speech itself, while impressive and commanding, held no emotion. Jackson was simply going through the motions. That was often how these school functions went.

"He's kinda hot, right?"

Jane turned sharply to her friend, incredulous.

"He's like fifty!" Jane exclaimed.

Victoria laughed, perhaps a little too loudly. Beatrice Ruth turned around to stare at them reproachfully, before looking away.

"Well, if you like them our age, there's always his son," Victoria said, smiling slyly.

Victoria hadn't even noticed the momentary attention her voice had just gathered. Jane wished she could be even slightly as carefree and confident as her..

"I-" Jane looked away, suddenly unable to concentrate. "He's not..."

"Not your type?" Victoria's sly smile was still firmly in place, as if she could read Jane's thoughts better than Jane herself.

Jane suddenly felt like a very small, trapped animal.

"Yeah. He's- uh, too douchey," she lied, blurting out the first negative trait of Ryder that came to her mind.

"I don't know, I bet you and that boy would be great together," Victoria replied.

Jane seriously doubted whether Victoria had ever had a boyfriend before. Or even kissed a boy. Her thoughts were interrupted by a feminine voice that cut through Jackson's speech with cold, clipped words.

"Hey, Victoria, anyone ever tell you that you talk like a crackhead?" Beatrice called from her spot ahead of them.

Beatrice was turned around in her seat once more, her elbows resting on the back of the chair. There was an expression of restrained malice in her eyes, though a fixed smile sat below them.

Jane didn't find her joke very funny, but the girls flanking Beatrice giggled as if it were the apex of comedy. Much like Beatrice, they were turned around in their seats, staring at the duo.

Victoria said nothing, instead raising her hand and forming an insulting gesture with her middle finger. The girls on either side of her were shocked, but this only seemed to encourage Beatrice further.

"Aww, gonna vandalize another bathroom, freak?" Beatrice said, her voice dripping with mockery.

The brunette then turned to Jane, her words as calculating and exact as ever. "If you know what's good for you, new girl, you'll ditch this weirdo. She's nuts."

More inane giggling from Beatrice's sycophants.

Jane wanted to respond, to defend her friend, to disparage the girl with a vengeance, but found her lips frozen. Her tongue felt as if it were made of sand. She couldn't speak.

"Just ignore them," Victoria said, pointedly looking away from the Beatrice and her cronies. Jane followed her cue, a touch grateful that she hadn't needed to say anything. It would have just made the situation worse.

The thin plastic of the seat dug into Jane's back. She shifted uncomfortably. She wondered what Beatrice had meant about Victoria vandalizing a bathroom. Perhaps the two of them had an argument before?

The microphone suddenly erupted in a burst of feedback, a keening wail that pierced the ears. The students closest to the speakers visibly winced.

Outside, Jane could hear the lightest of showers begin to fall on the roof of the auditorium.

"...It is with my sincerest pleasure that I call my son, Ryder, to the stage." The older Jackson was the very picture of a proud father, beckoning for his son from the podium.

A group of teenage boys towards one end of the assembly cheered and howled, each sporting a letterman jacket with their initials emblazoned on the backs.

Jane rolled her eyes for the second time that day. Jocks.

The tallest amongst them rose from his seat, a perfect smile plastered on his perfect face. Long legs strode up the steps of the stage as cheering broke out amongst the crowd. The principal moved hurriedly out of his way, clapping politely along with the rest of the students.

"Hey! Uh- I'm sure you all know me by now," Ryder Jackson said, his voice a friendlier, younger version of his fathers'. "I'm Ryder. Most of you think of me as just that football guy."

"Go Lumberjacks!" one of the jocks shouted. His fellow apes echoed the rallying call, as if it were gospel.

Ryder laughed. "Right. But the truth is, I'm not just a football player. There is more to me than what I do."

Was Jane imagining it?

She could swear, as he said that very line, he was staring right at her. She could feel it. A sense, in her chest, that Ryder's ad-libbed speech was meant for her ears alone.

"Drugs have shaped my life in a bad way, just like most people that have encountered them. But in this case, I wasn't using them, or making them. My mom-" Ryder paused, momentarily hanging his head. He appeared to have lost his mental place, and was struggling to bring the words back to his mouth.

Ryder's father clapped a hand on his son's shoulder, steadying him. Ryder glanced back at the older man, then returned his gaze to the crowd.

"I'm sorry-" he cleared his throat."Uh, you see, my mom, tragically, passed away when I was pretty young."

It seemed Jane was the only one surprised to learn this information, as she was the only one that reacted to this news. The story must have been well known to the townsfolk.

"It was late April, and she had gone to the store to get me medicine, because I was sick." His hands clenched into fists. Even from across the auditorium, Jane could sense his emotions. A young man, filled with grief almost as old as he was.

"It was in broad daylight, but she was hit by a stray bullet from a gang member. Like they didn't care about collateral damage, or getting caught, or even being seen. And- and this war." Ryder's voice cracked. "This war..."

He had paused again, one hand smoothing his hair back. The students were watching with bated breath, awaiting his every word. All but Jane, who crossed one leg over the other and leaned forward.

"It wouldn't have happened if people like you and me chose to never do drugs. If these gangs had no reason to even exist. If we, ordinary people, could take away their entire reason for being here."

The crowd seemed entranced by the young man's emotional speech, Victoria included. Those closest to the stage were leaning forward, staring up at Ryder and his father.

But that all too familiar feeling had returned to Jane. There are something more here. Something deeper. She could feel it.

Ryder continued his speech, but Jane was no longer paying attention. It felt as if her phone was burning in her pocket. As if it were calling to her, reminding her of its presence.

All she had to do was enter his password again. Then the itch would be scratched. Then she'd know whatever it is he was hiding, if it was on his online accounts. Then she'd find his secrets.

The voice in her head, ever an opposing force, had returned as well. It was none of her business, it reminded her. She had established that. She knew that.

She had never even spoken to Ryder Jackson. He had no idea who she was. Jane had no right to go poking into parts of his private life, especially something as serious and emotionally-charged as the death of his late mother. Even if poking into him is what she had been doing for weeks.

There was another way, she realized, as she gazed at the back of Beatrice's head. One that didn't involve invading Ryder's electronic privacy. Sort of.

She turned to Victoria.

"Hey, I gotta rain-check lunch."

Victoria turned from the dramatic speech on stage, one eyebrow raised. "What's wrong? Where are you going?"

Jane opened her mouth, then set her eyes on the floor. What could she say?

"Oh, I'm uh- just not feeling good," she said.

"You've been feeling not good all day." Victoria's concern was evident in her eyes, as well as her voice.

The crowd broke into yet another smattering of applause, giving Jane a moment to think of a better excuse. Ryder was stepping away from the microphone, and his father replaced his spot behind the podium.

She couldn't tell Victoria what she had been doing for the past few months. Victoria wouldn't understand. Jane needed to do this.

"I'll just go to the nurse's office," Jane said, lying through her teeth.

The concern in Victoria's eyes doubled. "Wow, it's that bad? Let me come with you."

Jane cursed within her mind. Victoria was too good of a friend. In any normal circumstance, she would be glad that someone cared about her.

But right here, in this moment, she needed to be alone.

"No it's- it's okay. It's kinda private," Jane said, allowing some of the annoyance she felt bleed into her voice.

Victoria raised one eyebrow. Her eyes drifted to Ryder as he stood behind his father, nodding along with what the older man was saying. "Okay-y-y, if you say so Jane-o." Victoria giggled at the nonsensical rhyme.

Jane rolled her eyes, a sarcastic groan escaping her lips.

And with that, the pair sat in silence until the seminar was over, Jane nervously planning how she would track Ryder to his secret meeting, Victoria glaring intermittently at the back of Beatrice's head.