I know what my classmates think of me. They see me as the narcoleptic kid who can’t stop himself from passing out in class and always has to study three times as hard just to keep up with normal curriculum. I guess they haven’t realized that even asleep, I still absorb about 90% of what’s being said. It’s a skill I picked up around the time I was diagnosed. It seemed useful, and it is, but sometimes I wish I didn’t hear quite as much. I seem to hear almost as much gossip as I do anything important, though it does allow me to serve as the Student Council’s informer as well as their treasurer.

As I follow Yulina, Kamorina, and Lakodi to our class, I try to consider methods I might employ this year in my effort to stay awake, but my mind keeps drifting back to Kami’s bruises. I know what those could mean, what they probably do mean. I know that I could never ask, and that if I did, she’d just brush it off. She’d get that deer-in-the-headlights look that she shows every time someone gets a little too close to the truth before laughing it off and declaring that my dreams must be invading my thoughts, and nothing’s going on at home. I know better.

Student Council President Kamorina Twistorm is getting abused, and has been for years.

I know other things, too - the way Lakodi looks at her, the way he does little things behind the scenes to make her smile despite acting so mean to her. I know Yulina has long since figured out the source of the injuries that all three Twistorm siblings carry, it’s why she carries a fully stocked medical kit, but she also knows that there’s nothing she can do for them. I overheard her arguing with President once about telling the police (that morning she had shown up in a cast) and President responding that the police would only make the situation worse. That discussion is the only reason I haven’t gone to authorities with my suspicions myself.

It didn’t make sense to me at the time, but after thinking it through, I understood. If Kamorina’s home life is as bad as I think it is, even a divorce and a restraining order wouldn’t keep her abuser away. If the police came and her abuser (probably her father, since her mom is always covered in bruises) managed to hide the evidence, it would simply enrage him and they would all be beaten several times worse than usual after the authorities had left. Once I’d figured that out, I came to a decision.

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There is nothing I can do unless Kamorina herself comes up with a plan and asks for help.

I’m startled out of my thoughts when Yulina stops abruptly in front of me and I almost crash into her. I blink and discover we’re already standing in front of our classroom door. I wonder briefly why President hasn’t entered yet and realize that she’s watching me - probably waiting for me to finish waking up - with a slightly raised eyebrow. “Time to face the class,” I hear her mutter, and she opens the door.

Knowing President, she wanted to quietly slide it open and slip inside without anyone noticing, but because we’re the Council, going unnoticed is highly unlikely. We learned years ago that sneaking in doesn’t work. Instead, she throws the door open and catches everyone’s attention: the sooner we get this over with, the better. “Hello,” she greets them cheerfully. “Sorry we’re late; the auditorium was a bit of a mess. Did we miss anything important?”

We all find our seats, lined up in a row at the back of the classroom to allow us to slip away nearly unnoticed if we have Student Council business. I hate to admit it, but I know that it’s also so that I can doze off without being blatantly obvious; the rest of the Council just refuses to sit somewhere without me. I appreciate their support, but… I would think they have bigger concerns than their narcoleptic treasurer.

Settling in, we take the packets our homeroom teacher offers us. I barely glance at it; unbeknownst to our classmates, we made these, not the teachers. We already know and understand the content, probably far better than any of us ever wanted to. The teacher then resumes her monologue about schedules, rules, expectations, lunch rules, restroom privileges, etc., and my eyes drift shut. Even when my body is sleeping, my mind still works, so I can still hear everything going on. I try not to grumble as I think to myself, ah, not again.

But then, I’m used to this by now.

I wonder quietly whether that’s how President feels, like she’s used to the abuse after so long enduring it. It strikes me that if someone were to offer me a way out of my narcolepsy, I’d never believe them. I’ve had too many instances of false hope over the years to even consider trying again. Maybe that’s why she won’t ask for help. I wonder if Lakodi has figured it out yet. Lands know he’s not the brightest - for all that the others think he goofs off all the time, he only keeps up with President by studying his life away - but I know that when he does realize, he’ll do anything at all to change it.

I just hope that day comes soon.