Corbett was out sick, or so the subsitute, a rabbit-faced potatosack of a woman named Mrs. Geissling told the class after the starting bell had rung and she had introduced herself. The class chattered and whispered the period away. Brian Owens kept whispering “faaaaggooooot” to his friends and giggling. A couple of girls discussed their respective dates the night before, oh my gods and he said thats in rapid whispers. Notes were passed. Notebooks were drawn in. Textbooks were, in some cases, actually reviewed.

Geissling had made a token effort to establish just what, exactly, the class was supposed to be working on, but she didn’t know much chemistry and furthermore Corbett hadn’t left notes anywhere that she could find them. Read your books. Work on any homework. The standard deal. Geissling had then simply dropped herself in Corbett’s chair and read quietly, glancing around and shushing people occasionally.

Rorie watched the clock.