Pathogen

"Now, can anyone tell me the property for X? Anyone?"

Crickets filled Mrs. Snopes' fifth period math class. Someone in the back row coughed nervously while a few other students shifted in their desks. One guy a few seats over from Marnie was actually snoring. The idiots on either side of her were more interested in trying to lob spitwads into the sleeping guy's open mouth instead of the problem on the board. Marnie herself was too busy looking out the window, listening to her favorite podcast through the wireless earbud carefully hidden in the cuff of her oversized black hoodie. There was only one person with their hand in the air - Bridgette - seated in the front row with a huge, smug grin on her face.

It should be illegal to have math classes after lunch. Listening to an Algebra lecture was already hard enough, but doing it with a full belly was even worse. On top of things, this was the first day their cheap-ass school had deemed cold enough to turn on the furnace. No wonder half the class was nodding off. Besides, what did they really need Algebra for in the real world anyway? That's what calculators were for, right?

Mrs. Snopes' beady blue eyes scanned her disinterested class through her large, owlish glasses - ignoring Bridgette entirely - her wrinkly lips pursed in thought. "Okay, then," she sniffed. "Marnie, how about you?"

At the sound of her own name, Marnie jumped three inches off her chair. It was all she could do to hold on to her earbud, lest it scatter to the floor and get her in trouble. "Wh-What?" she stammered. "Uh... s-six? No, four! Sorry, what was the question?"

A smattering of laughter rippled through the class, making Marnie's ears turn the same color as her hair. She sank a little lower in her seat, resisting the urge to pull her hood up and tug the strings tight to hide her shame. Mrs. Snopes, however, did not seem amused at all. She curled a bony, liver spotted finger at her student, beckoning her to the front of the class. "Why don't you come up here and solve the problem for us, hmm? If you're not too busy, that is?"

Marnie sheepishly did as she was told, shuffling up to the front of the class with her eyes downcast. When she got to the whiteboard, however, her heart sunk right down into her ratty purple tennis shoes. Right away, the numbers on the board jumped and danced all over the place like popcorn in a kettle, refusing to stay still long enough for her to solve the problem. She stood there looking at it like a dummy for a full five minutes before giving her dry erase marker back to the teacher. "I dunno," she mumbled lamely. "Sorry."

Mrs. Snopes' eyes softened behind her glasses. "Come on, Marnie," she sighed. "Won't you at least try? I know how smart you are. Go on; give it another look."

Marnie glanced over at Bridgette, who was practically standing up in her seat at this point. She didn't dislike the petite, round girl, but they weren't exactly best friends either. And, at the moment, Bridgette was being such a suck-up that it made Marnie want to throw up in her mouth.

"I don't know," Marnie said again, her tone a little sharper. "Why don't you ask her?! Clearly, she does!"

The boys in the back row released a low, drawn-out "ooh" collectively, but Mrs. Snopes silenced them with a scathing look. When she fixed her eyes back on Marnie, however, they were more disappointed than angry. Without saying a word, she grabbed a pad of pink paper off her desk, scribbled something on it, then held out the torn-off slip to Marnie. Marnie didn't have to ask what it was; she'd gotten plenty of them over the past ten years, in every school she'd been to. She just took the slip without complaint, grabbed her stuff, and took off toward the principal's office.

It wasn't like Marnie wanted to be a bad kid. She actually tried her best to behave... well, most of the time. Chronically being the new kid, however, left her open to a lot of guff from the other students. Over the years, she'd developed a pretty thick skin, so most of the stuff they said or did didn't bother her. Inevitably, though, there was that one kid or teacher who said the wrong thing at the wrong time, and Marnie would just go off. Some of the students teased her in the past for ignoring some things only to get set off so quickly over one seemingly random thing. Like a game of Russian Roulette. After two months in this school - Thomas Jefferson High - it had already earned her a nickname: Pistol.

Marnie sighed at the slip crumpled in her fist, her mouth already dry with dread. One more of these little beauties, and she'd surely be suspended. Again. At least this time it was for insubordination; a relatively small violation compared to the ones she usually got. The way T.J.H. worked, though, her mom was still guaranteed to get a call. That was gonna suck.

"Hey, Pistol!"

The voice jolted Marnie from her thoughts like a minivan slamming into a brick wall. She whirled around in the direction it'd come from automatically, although she wished she hadn't a moment later. Her already crappy mood plummeted to new lows at the tall, gangly Latino boy grinning at her foolishly. "Hello, Julian," she murmured dryly. "I'd love to stay and chat, but I'm actually kinda busy right now, so--"

"Sure, yeah, that's cool," Julian said, running a hand over his crisp black curls in an obvious and clumsy attempt to be suave. Frankly, it worked about as well as a penguin trying to fly. "I was just gonna ask who was walking you home today."

Marnie blinked at him in confusion, as the question threw her for a loop momentarily. "Uh... no one," she said bluntly. "Why? What's it to you?"

Julian braced a hand against the wall beside him, only missing it once before settling into a nonchalant lean. "Well, it's your lucky day, then," he grinned. "...because this guy-" he gestured to himself with his free thumb, "-bravely volunteers for the job."

Jaw agape, Marnie stared at this dork-ass loser, not sure if she should laugh or cringe. "Are you serious?" she blurted.

Julian's macho facade waivered a little, but he tried to cover his obvious dip in confidence with a small cough. "Is... that a no?"

Any other day, Marnie would've told Julian outright where he could shove his offer. The slip in her hand gave her pause, though, and an idea. The thought of facing her mom alone that afternoon was nerve-wracking... but if she came home with a friend, maybe the boom wouldn't be lowered as hard. She was always after Marnie about having a nonexistent social life, so it couldn't hurt. And Julian wasn't too much of a pain to be around. Marnie actually thought he was kinda sweet, when he wasn't pulling crap like this.

"Y'know what? Sure," she said, adjusting her backpack strap with a huff. "You don't have plans afterward, do you? I need to study for that big Chem test, and you're a whiz at the stuff."

Marnie had never seen Julian's eyes grow so large so fast. "R-Really?!" he stammered, a wide, boyish smile spreading across his face. Marnie didn't know why, but seeing it made her stomach do a flip. A second later, he cleared his throat and leaned in closer, replacing the genuine grin with an impish smirk. "I mean, I'd love to," he said, forcing his voice a half octave deeper. "We'll make great chemistry together."

Marnie rolled her eyes so hard, she thought they'd disappear inside her skull forever. Thankfully, the bell saved her from any more of Julian's antics. As she turned toward the principal's office - hoping to get there before the halls were clogged with her peers - the sleeping dude from her math class came charging down the hall right for her. He ran like he had a serial killer after him, barely giving Marnie time to get out of the way to avoid being flattened. "Hey! Watch it!" she snapped.

The boy didn't pay any attention to her, though. She was sure he didn't even see her at all, and a moment later she found out why he was in such a hurry. He made a sharp right toward the boys' room at the end of the hall, then projectile vomited right in the threshold. Julian, a few other guys, and a teacher all crowded around Mr. Pukey, asking if he was okay. The teacher broke up the looky-loos almost immediately, sectioning off the area with a wet floor sign before escorting the poor guy to the nurse's office.

Marnie felt bad for the boy, but she kept on her way to the principal's office at a fast clip. She wasn't good with people-y stuff, and there wasn't anything she could say or do to fix him. Besides, the teacher and nurse would take good care of him, so there wasn't any need for her to get involved. Not getting involved was Marnie's strong suit.

As expected, Principal Honeycutt called her mom. And, also as expected, her mom was pissed. On her mom's blessing, Marnie was given an extra hour of after-school detention that week. Marnie felt she'd gotten off easy this time; things honestly could've gone a lot worse, especially with so many strikes already against her. Her meeting with the principal made her late to her final class of the day, but she tried to pay extra attention to the teacher during the lecture to make up for it. It was hard to do, though, considering everyone around her was still whispering about the guy who blew chunks in the hall.

By the end of the school day, Marnie had forgotten the whole incident pretty much, as had everyone else. When she and Julian left the building, however, there was an ambulance parked on the school's front lawn and several cop cars. Several students paused to look at the scene, clearly curious about what was going on, but Mrs. Snopes and two other teachers hurried them along. It was weird: Marnie thought there was nothing on earth that could rattle that old hag... and yet she was sure Mrs. Snopes looked on edge.

"Huh... that's odd," Julian mused. "Wonder what happened? Hope everybody's okay."

Marnie shook her head and popped in an earbud. "Dunno. None of our business, though. C'mon; shake a leg."