Ms. Chu says with a smile. She’s cool for a teacher, twenty-something with purple streaks in her super-short, bleached-blond hair. “Sure, Ms. Chu.” I nod at her, but my gaze still sweeps from guy to guy. “Pick any seat, then pull out homework to do quietly for the next hour.” “And if I don’t have any homework?” “The white board needs to be cleaned.” “Just remembered some assigned reading,” I say quickly. I scoot into a seat beside a shaved-head guy with mocha skin and a ruby ring on his pinky that sparkles too brightly to be authentic. He’s camouflaged in a baggy black jacket and hunched over a book, so I can’t tell if he’s ripped with rock-hard muscles or flabby like a dough boy. When I stare at Shaved Head, he glances up at me, his dark-chocolate eyes flaring with something that could either be curiosity or annoyance.
