PAST JESSICA : N/A

HOUR -4 : 12:00, MONDAY, APRIL 20, 2122

RICHMOND 2 : JAMES MARSTERS HIGH SCHOOL 1 : FUCK

“Fuck!”

Fuck, half the class was staring at me now.

I’d tried to soften my voice as soon as I realized the expletive was inevitable. It wasn’t soft enough though. That’s for fucking sure… At least the dreaded swear was in response to getting electrocuted. So it was justified. Even if only to myself. And at the end of the day that was all that mattered.

To be fair though, that didn't seem to be a popular opinion.

Glancing around, I noted future midwestern moms of all genders glaring at me with affronted indignity.

In response, I paired one of my classic sneers with an equally classic eye roll.

Like they’d ever done anything nearly this complicated or dangerous…

Mid-rotation, my eye-roll transitioned smoothly back to the eyehole of a microscope I borrowed from the chemistry classroom.

Of all my jury-rigged spider toys, why’d it have to be Ash that short-circuited overnight? Actually, that was obvious… But why today? I refused to believe this couldn’t get any worse. The only thing I couldn’t do… Was believe it couldn’t get any worse. Then, maybe… Nope. Stop thinking along anywhere even remotely close to those lines right now!

Fucking with a fully-charged Ash was like the worlds hardest, shittiest game of Operation. Literally a millimeter out of place on any of it and-GAH!!! Breaking into a cold sweat, I did a few mental backflips over having suppressed vocalizing it that time. But frequent minor electrocutions were still the lesser evil. Actually trying to use him in his current state could easily blow up in my face. Literally, come to think of it. At that thought, I reconsidered my self-pity over how many times I was tripping this thing’s buzzer.

Actually, I was damned lucky it was Ash that broke at the last minute. No way could I risk fucking with Brock at school. Or ever, come to think of it. I already would’ve been suspended if they found out what Ash could do. I didn’t want to risk expulsion. Oh, who was I kidding? That would’ve meant prison time for fucking sure.

By now, my classmates were back to talking amongst themselves. Most were too excited about Immortalia Online for the disparate conversations to center around anything else for long.

Honestly, I would’ve loved nothing more than to jump into the VRMMO right now. And I could’ve talked these kids under the table about it too. I even already got to max level and everything. Max level for the beta, anyway. The full release wasn’t supposed to have a level cap at all. But unless whatever James had planned involved a lot more video game time than he implied, I wouldn’t get the chance today.

“These days…”

The whole class, having been chatting with each other only a moment before, was utterly silent at the far-too-dulcet-for-a-high-school-student tone.

That level of drama from Mr. Johansen’s opening line could only mean it was a ‘Favorite Lesson’ of his. He always got theatrical with these. It was no sub with a nature documentary, but at least I knew I wasn’t in for a monotone snooze-fest. And who knew? I could make some money too. Not that I’d be able to collect. But it was a distraction. And I needed one of those right about now.

At the sound of my hard time limit, I stopped fiddling with the pool ball-sized toy on my desk. Thank fuck lunch hour was after this. With equal parts practiced efficiency and hurried panic, I flopped some more sweat, flipped the compartment closed, and crammed the toy into its pokéball on my belt loop before Mr. Johansen noticed its existence. With the two others, it formed an identical trio in a line around the front half of my waist. Hopefully, these cases looked like I was just defiantly declaring my love of an unfashionable old-timey cartoon. Instead of, you know… A felony.

And it worked even better than I’d hoped. Not only did nobody seem to suspect the truth behind my three new accessories, but I’d stumbled onto some sort of likability factor here. I could almost even be myself around a few of my ‘school friends’ without driving them away. Almost… But that was still better than my last school. Were high schoolers just more accepting of fat nerds?

I considered that possibility. No. Definitely not. Maybe the geekiness of the whole thing countered how off-putting everyone seemed to find my honest personality? There was a thought…

Maybe I should’ve worn even more geeky stuff. Then I could’ve just walked around cussing everyone out whenever I wanted, and still been the most popular kid in school. “I kinda wanna punch myself right now…” Muttering under my breath at that cringey-ass thought, I took out a pen and sheet of paper.

Oh shit… They were all staring at me again, weren’t they? I probably wasn’t actually ‘muttering’ just then, was I? Really gotta work on that volume control.

“Thomas, you know my policy on phones.” With a characteristic formal pivot, Mr. Johansen lost all notion of theatricality. Like he’d put down a script he was reading.

Gotta remember to talk to Thomas after I finish repairing-

“See Jessica here?”

Ah fuck, he was pointing at me, wasn’t he? Why was I his example of anything?

“If you want to take notes, do what she’s doing.”

Oh. I was the only student with pen and paper out. Son of a bitch… Okay then, lesson learned. I’d be slower about getting ready for his next award-winning performance. Except… No I wouldn’t. This was really it, wasn’t it..?

“We don’t pay much attention to outer space.” Mr. Johansen continued his award-winning performance, looking and sounding as remorseful as his first few words when he’d walked in the room.

Oh thank fucking christ. No time for self-reflection if he was starting. I could feel things later. I couldn’t afford to obsess right now. So we were starting with 1 point for ‘remorseful’…

“-Do we? Of course, we have other things to worry about these days. But it wasn’t always ‘these’ days, was it? There was a time before the world flooded. Before there were more of us dying than being born. What about THOSE days?”

So that was 7 for… No, wait.

He’d moved on to ‘nostalgic’ now. “Well, those days, most people actually spent a great deal of time and energy on things that had nothing whatsoever to do with survival. This was a golden age.” From remorseful, to nostalgic, to proud… And so fast? He must’ve actually cared about this. “A golden age filled with the pure gathering of knowledge. Knowledge for the sake of nothing more than that very knowledge itself. Anything, everything, had to be known.”

Mustering a determined look, Mr. Johansen made a half-circle motion with his arms, perfectly imitating a toddler singing ‘Itsy Bitsy Spider’.

Not my job to mark down the motions today, though. That was just a weird one. Even for him.

“And so we searched. Long and hard. We-”

A smattering of giggles flared up around the class.

Mr. Johansen looked sideways at us all as a group, eventually continuing with a slight edge to his words. “We searched in as many different ways as you can imagine. All around us. To the lowest of lows.” He dramatically lowered his voice to a projected whisper. “And the highest of highs.”

What should I call that? ‘Victorious’? Was that even a real emotion?

“Towering above everything else was an epic quest. A quest for an answer. For THE answer. To a single, all-important, question.” Mr. Johansen bent forward, hands braced on his desk at the front of the class, meeting us all at roughly eye-level. “Are, we, alone?” Then he Stood back up to pace the front of the room while… Just kind of talking normal. Only slowly.

Oh right, that was his tell that he was being ‘contemplative’.

Mr. Johansen had no illusions about being a good actor from what I could tell. Pretty sure he just cared about the subject. Or about us. I’d been to enough shitty schools around here to know how rare either of those were. Let alone both in one guy.

“We mostly did this by looking for planets like our own. Turns out, that’s actually a pretty reliable way to find an alien species.” Mr. Johansen sighed in bewilderment. “Uuunfortunately, the way we chose to do it severely limited our potential from the start. We invented machines to enhance light. The same light we use to ‘see’ space.” On saying ‘see’, he encircled each eye with a thumb and pointer finger. “These were called ‘telescopes’.”

Ooh, onto ‘wistful’. Fuck yeah.

“And the smartest of humanity were raised up above the rest.” He sounded reverent now, as though speaking of still-living gods.

This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

Damn it! Only 1 wistful sentence? That was some bullshit…

“They were crowned with the illustrious title of ‘astrophysicist’. These astrophysicists spent the entirety of their lives searching. Looking into their telescopes. And through those telescopes, out into the vast, endless cosmos.”

Still ‘reverent’? Fuck, I was in last place again, wasn’t I?

“Always searching. Never wavering in their goal for even an instant. As time went on, as astrophysicists came and went, they kept up their search…”

“And now my watch begins.” Unable to resist the joke that popped into my head, I intoned this as solemnly and softly as I could. Once again, I apparently failed to manage my volume enough for literally anyone not to hear.

And, as I feared, my teacher once more dropped his eyes from the invisible script. “What was that, Miss Simmons?”

What could I possibly say to that? Well, I mean, he asked… “That was, um… A reference?”

Mr. Johansen didn’t react.

“From… A book series.”

Still nothing.

“Called ‘A Song of Ice and Fire’?”

He seemed to be waiting for something.

“We read the first few books in English last semester? It was really popular around the turn of the millennium. They made a TV show about it and everything. Although, the show had a different name. Or, at least, the TV series went by a singularized version of the first book’s title, Game Of-”

Mr. Johansen’s eyebrows rose in interest. “Was it a show about astronomy?”

“No… Well, I mean there was this comet that-”

“Was it a show about history then?”

“It was… A world the author made up-”

“I see. Miss Simmons, please do, at least, try to keep your references on-topic if you’re going to interrupt my class with them.”

God fucking damn it, I couldn’t help but respect him for that. It was a lazy callback, wasn’t it? Sure, kind of a dick move on his part to stop everything over my little interjection. But I was rude first, and mine wasn’t even funny. Alright then, new goal. Before the class was over, I’d interrupt him with something both funny AND on-topic. No way in hell was I leaving on this note.

No longer acknowledging the interruption, Mr. Johansen continued in the same voice as before. “Always using bigger and bigger telescopes. They even expanded the types of light those telescopes could see. They did all sorts of complicated experiments. Made all sorts of amazing advancements. All focused on using light better. All to find the answer. Convinced that they would. Convinced that they were even close… So very close to finding what they were looking for. But they never did.”

Head in the game, Jessica. That was ‘reverent’, ‘determined’, and then onto… ‘Regretful’? That was a new one…

“Much like if you tried and failed to unflood your basement with progressively larger and more expensive rakes…” He paused to glance accusingly at me. Guess he had timing issues of his own…

I smirked at him.

He glared back at me.

I shot him the same glare, albeit replacing his poker-face with a grin.

His mouth twitched. After another extended abject silence from the class, Mr. Johansen continued exactly as before. Maybe slightly ‘dejected’? Hard to tell, honestly. “They failed to realize that their mistake was not in the size of their telescopes. Or in their complexity. Rather, they were misguided in the very concept of what they were trying to do. As such, the range with which we humans could use to search the cosmos wasn’t nearly far enough. Nor was it clear enough. And it certainly wasn’t anywhere approaching fast enough.”

He solemnly shook his bowed head. “And it never would be.” He lifted his eyes to the class in excitement. His intro was over, then. “But that all changed when Grammy-winning pop sensation turned Nobel-winning quantum physicist, Justin Bieber, discovered that-”

A man in a black suit and tie briskly slid the classroom door open, forcing it to do so faster than the door’s hydraulics were clearly meant to facilitate. He immediately walked inside. “Jessica Simmons?”

Even before finishing my name, His eyes were already locked onto my own.

…What?

Without even a glance around the room?

…WHAT???

That wasn’t really a question, was it? So he already knew my seat? What in the fucking stalker bullshit… This class didn’t have assigned seating.

What in the flying fuck… Do… Do I run? Now would’ve been the time. But this classroom’s windows are reinforced. No way in hell could I break them. Well I mean… Without killing everyone here, me included, Yeah okay, bad plan.

I contemplated the quality of a school security system where someone with a gun could stand in a doorway, and thereby block the only possible exit to a classroom where children were taught.

“Please come with me.” Suit Guy sounded impatiently bored in a way that made it seem like he had other, more important kids to remove from class today. That had to be an act, right? Why would he have bothered learning my face well enough to instantly know it if I wasn’t his target?

Amazing. Two sentences. Just four words and my own name into it, and I was already suspicious of this guy’s story. I was just being paranoid, right? What were the chances that this had anything to do with… No, wait. He definitely did some weird shit just now. And whether I was a target or it was just an act or whatever, it was important. To this guy at least. And… Was he trying to hide that from me? From my whole class?

All this went through my head as I stood up. No point in hiding meant no point in exposing how hard my heart was trying to pound out of my chest. I instead adopted a look that, if I was doing it right, said that I was a little confused, but far more worried. Wait, I could’ve just used my real emotions for this. God damn it, I couldn’t get so focused on tactically deflecting my emotions that I missed opportunities to be genuine for free. Otherwise, it would’ve driven me crazy. Found that out in middle school…

Distracted by my self-admonishment, I tripped over the leg of a desk as I moved towards the door. Hey, that was more like it. A genuine reaction to something. Sure, distraction driven by self-deprecation wasn’t quite the kind of thing I was trying to foster in myself, but at least it was a real emotion. I almost avoided the fall, but my hand slipped on the wet desk next to me when I tried to catch myself on it. Why was it wet? More to the point… “OW…”

“Jessica!” Mr. Johansen sounded panicked. He was already halfway to me by the time I started getting up. “Don’t stand if you don’t feel up to it. You looked like you were about to horf just before you suddenly fell there. That could happen again. Let’s get you to the nurse’s office.”

Well, there was an escape route I hadn’t considered…

“And you…” Speaking briskly once I was well into steadily getting up on my own, Mr. Johansen turned from me and walked towards the man who just barged in.

A man who wasn’t looking nearly as self-assured as when he got here.

“Who are you and what is your business with this alleged ‘Mrs. Simmons’, should she, in fact, exist?”

The man in the suit removed a piece of paper from his jacket and held it out to my teacher.

The paper stopped, suspended less than an inch from Mr. Johansen’s hand, mid-indignant-gesture.

Moving no part of his body besides his left wrist, Mr. Johansen plucks the paper from the suited man’s hand. He immediately read it as Suit Guy took advantage of the opening.

“My name is Peters… Agent Peters, if you like. I’m here by special warrant from the Federal Bureau of Investigation.” The ‘agent’ slowly lowered the paper that Mr. Johansen was holding up to his face, just enough so that they made eye contact. “Sir, I respect your position as her teacher. My office already spoke to your principal. Jessica Simmons is not in any trouble. But time is a factor here. And we have reason to believe that she is in possession of important information pertaining to an ongoing investigation.”

Peters turned a reassuringly apologetic gaze to me. “We just need to ask you some questions. Won’t take more than a few hours. You’ll even be back in time for your last class.” He seemed to consider the accuracy of that for a moment. “But it could possibly take just ever so slightly longer than that.”

Did… Did he just wink at me? Holy fuck, that was smooth. Was I wrong earlier? No, he did still contradict himself. Subtly though. That was a pretty tiny mistake, actually. He clearly did his homework and came prepared. I was probably just being underestimated. Well then… Let’s just go ahead and keep that shit going.

Agent Peters looked away from me, back to Mr. Johansen. “But time really is a factor here, sir. And I really can’t tell you anything more than that. So this really does need to happen. And it really does need to happen now.” His tone made it clear that this was up neither to him, nor for debate.

Visibly deflating a bit, Mr. Johansen turned to me with an apologetic look. “It seems the FBI needs your help with something important, Jessica. Unfortunately, my hands are tied.” He then glared at the agent in a way that made me realize he’d never actually glared at me. “This time. And never again. Ever.” He waited, maintaining his glare.

Agent Peters’ expression hadn’t changed even slightly this whole time. “Yes, sir?”

Mr. Johansen didn’t back off an inch. “This doesn’t happen. Ever again.” A moment of silence. “GOT IT???”

Holy fuck, were my ears bleeding? I’d never, ever, heard that tone from him. Not in all the time I’d been scorekeeper for The FLBP.

Peters relaxed his shoulders and looked almost respectfully at Mr. Johansen. “Sir, I don’t have the authority to make that promise. But if someone has an issue with how the FBI handles these sorts of situations, I would recommend said person to file a formal complaint at the regional office in downtown Richmond. Between you and me, sir… Policies tend to change right quick when the legal team gets involved.”

Mr. Johansen seemed mollified by that. Well, he was still frowning at the agent. But he was at least placated enough to turn back to me after keeping that frown going for only a few more seconds. “Miss Simmons, I’m guessing you’re about to learn far more outside of school, than you ever could within it today.” Smiling covertly, he projected a whisper. “Don’t worry, you get an automatic ‘A’ on the homework from my ramblings today.”

The class groaned. Some of them booed. “Retard!”

I suppressed a smile. Not only that, but I did everything I could to appear genuinely hurt by the comment. On the verge of tears, even.

Both adults saw my reaction.

Agent Peters narrowed his eyes at the crowd of teenagers.

Mr. Johansen was a bit more animated, looking back at his class with nothing short of disappointed contempt. Like he’d really expected better of them. “You know what? New policy! If federal agents on official business remove you from any class of mine, you’re excused from that day’s homework.” He spoke in a slow, high-pitched tone. As though talking to an angry toddler in the middle of a tantrum far too petty and impotent to be taken seriously. “Sound fair, boys and girls?”

The class muttered and groaned in general disgruntled acceptance of their new reality.

Of course, I immediately knew it was Thomas who said ‘retard’ just then. It really was the perfect way to escalate shit just enough to make a teacher jump in to shut it down entirely.

Smiling inwardly, I used the chance to covertly take out my phone while Mr Johansen laid his passive-aggressive smack-down on the class. I sent Thomas a big thank-you along with the tally I’d been in the middle of taking. I’d have to ask him about the Favorite Lesson Betting Pool later. If he did ten more wistful sentences today, I’d win a nice chunk of cash.

Or no… I wouldn’t, would I? At this point… Was this… Was THIS how our final goodbye would happen? But it wasn’t like we could get any time alone now. So yeah. I looked across the room, directly into his eyes. I maintained it, watching what was turning out to be my last chance pass entirely out of sight as Agent Peters led me from the room.