show some emotion for once, Constance

“Alright, children, now we’re going to be learning about inputs and outputs,” the math teacher droned on, drawing little dots on the graph axis he’d made. The majority of the class had learned this lesson back in eighth grade, so Constance had his head down, taking a nap. I was writing in my usual notebook, racking my brain for more post ideas. “What does x equal?”
“Seven?” one student piped up.
“Correct. So here’s our x-”
The phone rang, and our incompetent teacher put whoever was calling us on speakerphone, even though that was against school policy as teacher calls were often confidential. But it didn’t matter this time, as whoever was on the other end started shrieking to turn the massive flatscreen TV that was hanging in the front of the classroom to channel nineteen.
“Yo, May, go turn on the TV to that channel! Quick!” the teacher yelled, trying to sound dramatic but just sounding extra bored. I moved to comply, and the TV lit up with a scene of one of the wings of the Zorphian castle on fire, surrounded by blue zorphs who were desperately trying to put said fire out. The words IMPRISONED QUEEN KIDNAPPED were emblazoned below the live feed of the fire, the bilingual reporter shifting back and forth between English and some dialect of Zorphese that I could barely understand.
“What…” The word escaped my lips, thoughts of Maxine and how she left in order to save Emma racing through my head. Was this her work? What had happened that had set the castle that they so desperately wanted to live in on fire?
Constance raised his head, finally interested in something in this gol-durned class. “Oh, somebody’s broken Emma’s body out of the palace. That’s cool.”
“That’s cool?” I resisted the urge to stand up in my seat, my chest feeling awkward. “This is part of why we’ve been stuck on this planet for who knows how many weeks, and all you can say is that’s cool?” Constance shrugged in response.
“The palace is also reporting two servants missing,” the reporter added, switching back to English. The screen switched to police drawings of a dark-skinned girl with a head full of curls- almost a nest, it was so messy- and a boy who looked like he could be at least part Native American. “if you see them or have any information on their whereabouts, do not hesitate to call King Allaketo’s hotline at the number below.”


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