ALGEBRAIC! *Tuesday*

[GEORGIANA 'PIG' SPENCER]

THIS HURR OUTFIT AGAIN!


Well, that had been an interesting class, hadn't it? Thursday, or Oz as she seemed to have fondly dubbed him, seemed... alright. And that was quite the fetching compliment, coming from Pig. Certainly he was far more stand-able than the other mouth breathers at this school. Though that Joey girl did seem alright. Okay, so Pig didn't hate people as much as she tried to make people thing. She made her way to her next class, finding this school... gigantic. Far bigger than her school at home. Algebra... awesome. It wasn't that she was bad at it, or anything. Nor was she particularly good. But she certainly didn't enjoy it, no Sir. And she could hardly think of a sane person who would.

She found the class room and took a seat in the back of the room, watching her fellow classmates begin filing in. At least Frank L. Baum Academy was interesting, that was for sure. There was such an array of students here. Various hair styles, various friends, various cliques. Some ugly, some pretty, some skinny, some fat. Yes, interesting was the word for this place. And interesting was good.

Opening a notebook, Pig tried to think of a haiku before class. Why? Why the hell not? It wasn't like she had much else to do. Or anyone to talk to for that-

Just a tick....

What was Oz doing in her Math class? He didn't seem to notice her... or, in fact, wearing what he had been wearing last hour. And... there was something different about him. But that was ridiculous, he was exactly the same, besides his cloths. But... not. There was something off with his... what did they call it? Swagger? Sure. There was something off with his swagger. Not that Oz lacked swagger, but this swagger was simply different. She couldn't even say why it was different. It just was.

She watched as he crossed the classroom, taking his seat right next to her. But... he never actually looked at her. In fact, he barely seemed to realize she was sitting there. With her smirk forming a little, at the corner of her mouth, Pig's Brit-accented voice ended the strange quiet. "So, do you change outfits for every class, Oz?" Her voice was as it always was, though with a very slight hinting of amusement. "Or are you in disguise to better follow me. Because I must say, you're doing a terrible job." She let out a very quiet laugh, and turned back to her notebook, her eyes crossing back up to him.

Why couldn't she put her finger on what was different?

[TUESDAY DAVENPORT]

Tuesday Davenport was totally not in the mood for any of this bullshit right now.

He trudged down the hallways, alone as the world flashed by him. His brother’s voice pounded against his ears and bled into the rest of the inconsequential background. Tuesday slumped in his classes, feeling the teachers’ words…okay, so you know that one Dr. Seuss book, with the green machine thing with the two yellow nozzle things, where like the purple bubbly stuff trickled in the left ear and out the right? Yeah, that was exactly what was happening to the stuff he was learning in his classes.

He heard his name echoing off the walls and voices surrounding him, but he shut them all out, staring blankly at the desktop in front of him. He saw his brother’s body, limp as one of those dumb teddy bear things they sold at the general store place on the corner of 45th and whatever that street with the firetruck-colored candy store was, plummeting from the bridge, plunging into the water, the droplets spraying him gently in the face. He felt the helplessness rising in his chest, like a sudden sensation of panic or terror, manifesting itself in tiny droplets of sweat barreling down his forehead and bright red flushes in his cheeks. He saw the bathroom stall door slamming as he locked his brother away from his own, stupid, useless, pathetic life, and he heard his own sharp voice repeating those horrible, sadistic lines over and over and over.

” I’m sorry if I don’t care about your stupid prank,” reverberated off the walls of his mind, repeating like a broken record. “Fucking Narnia. Where’s it look like I’m going?”

He saw his brother, pale and sallow, huddled against a hospital mattress, a stupid beeping machine counting down the seconds to death. To the moment when his brother, his twin, his soulmate, his best friend, would be wrenched apart from him forever. And now he was seeing November too, she and her stupid moodiness. She hadn’t spoken to him in, well, he’d lost track of time. Minutes were synonymous with centuries at the moment. For all he knew he could be like, sixty billion years old. It wasn’t like he would notice. Or care. Not like anyone would care about some stupid seventeen-year-old loser.

And now he had Algebra class. Great. He slumped into his chair, drumming his fingers on the desktop in front of him to the beat of who-knows-what-song. He allowed his eyes to be pulled lethargically downwards, waiting for the dreaded images to arrive on the blank surface.

“So, do you change outfits for every class, Oz?" Her voice was as it always was, though with a very slight hinting of amusement. "Or are you in disguise to better follow me. Because I must say, you're doing a terrible job."

Tuesday blinked rapidly, sitting up abruptly in startlement. “Huh?” Great, his voice sounded all hoarse and bleary and shit. Though it had been a few days now since he’d said anything. God, he was fucked up.

“Uh. Oz? Following?” He thought for a moment. This was all probably part of some messed-up hallucination he was having. He and Thursday were okay. They were fine. Thursday was alive. He was going to be okay. Right? Wasn’t that what…oh God, what was he even saying? Jesus shit, he couldn’t even think straight. “Uh, uh, yeah,” he muttered, rubbing his eyes and trying to tread water long enough to not come off as one of those special ed kids who flopped around in wheelchairs and mumbled about bananas. “Yeah, totally. Uh, yeah, dude. I mean, girl. Girl dude.”