Karyn glared at Mrs. Finnegan, who was writing some notes about Algebra on the board. It probably wasn't actually the fault of the math teacher, who was just trying to do her job, but Karyn felt she was culpable anyway. But, still, while the teacher's back was turned, it was a good opportunity to send Jon a message. The phone that was in the bag was not hers. She had a simple phone with a black case. Admittedly, it was on the cheaper end as well. This was a fancy iPhone. Karyn had no idea how new of a model it was, but it was certainly newer than hers. It also had a soft gel case. Pink, of course, but not a hot pink. More like a subdued peach color.
Sending a text from a different phone could have all sorts of repercussions. Also, she didn't know Jon's number. But there was a solution to that. She tried to install Discord on the phone, but the security on the phone wouldn't let it through. It didn't recognize the fingerprint or the face scan. The web app was going to have to be good enough. It didn't take long before she was signing in with her standard account. There weren't any messages from Jon, so it was time to take the initiative.
Karyn: Jon, you better actually be sick.
Karyn: If you are playing hooky and are doing this on purpose, you're dead.
Karyn: I guess if you don't know what I'm on about, well, I hope you get better soon.
If Jon was awake, he would have seen that helpful little bouncing text as Karyn started a message, then deleted it to try again. Finally, one last message came through.
Karyn: Jon DO NOT make a wish about getting better. All of the one's I've thought of could have nasty repercussions.
Hoping that he would heed her warning, and that her best friend wasn't playing her for a fool, she turned off the phone and put it in the leather backpack. The notebook for algebra barely fit in the small chic bag. Jennifer Taylor was the name on the label, which sort of tracked with the day Karyn had been having. A bit over half the pages had notes. Well, calling them notes was a bit generous. The first few pages weren't bad, with a decent definition of the transitive property and other algebra terms all done in Cornell style. More highlighter action that Karyn tended to use, but that wasn't too distracting. But as the school year went on, the quality of the notes began to drift. There were a lot more doodles than in her own notes. You could sort of track the date by what was spilling out of the margins. It looked like they were doing quadratics? Maybe something with parabolas. The notes were hazy. But it was all stuff that Karyn had mastered two years before.
She paid little attention to the examples being written on the board, jotting down a note every couple of minutes. She doubted Jennifer would actually study any of the notes, but it wouldn't do to be a bad steward of whatever this was, however long this lasted.
Which was the point of Karyn's actual focus during the class. She'd ripped a blank piece out of the notebook and was taking actual useful notes on it. What exactly had been happening?
- The school has a new ID card system.
- Sarah and I were registered as the Taylor twins.
- The Card reader at the door said I needed to be in Algebra 1, and not in PreCalc.
- At some point during all of this, my clothes were replaced by... other clothes. (Jennifers?)
Those four were the big things that Karyn definitely knew. After a moment. She wrote "It's probably Jon's fault somehow."
After a minute, she added a question mark at the end of it.
A moment later, she crossed it out.
A few minutes, after adding a diagram to the math notes, she added another item to the page. "Sarah might also have things happening?"
Towards the end of the class, she added another note.
- The person giving out ID cards called someone when there was trouble.
She circled this and then picked up the notebook as the bell rang.
Meanwhile, in History, Sarah was feeling a bit overwhelmed. This must be some sort of advanced class, one she definitely should be in. So many dates and facts were being thrown out at her, and Sarah was trying to tread water, writing it all down. This was not at all what she had signed up for. Not that she had signed up for anything. Maybe she should have just raised hell as soon as the mistake had been made, getting Daddy to come and fix it now instead of later. He always preferred to have time to handle things, but if her whole day was going to be like this... She shook her head, which had the side effect of feeling the movement of the braid. Which was another thing entirely.
Look, when it came down to it, a big part of her place in the school was to keep a finger on the fashion trends and then bring the best one to school. Chin length with shaved sides were in, long hair with a central tight braid were out. It was common sense. But somehow, the hair she had woken up with was no longer the hair she had. It was a good length of hair, and healthy. But it wasn't her hair. This was brought into an extremely tight braid. It had probably taken hours to do, all the way to the scalp. She had no idea how she could suddenly be wearing it. At least Karyn wasn't copying her anymore. Small consolation.
The worst was finally over and class was wrapping up. Mister Lincoln, no direct relation, was passing out a quiz or a test from some previous classes. He stopped at her desk for a second, handing her the paper. Sarah was prepared. So many teachers had given her speeches about applying herself and similar topics when handing back graded assignments. But Mister Lincoln. Surprised her.
"Are you feeling okay, Sarah? I noticed you struggling to keep up." Sarah mumbled something about the ID card system in response. Mister Lincoln frowned. "I'm sorry that was so distracting. I enjoyed your essay." He set the paper on the desk and went to the next student.
Sarah turned the paper over quickly, like some well-meaning but sadistic friend helping you with a waxing. But it wasn't what she feared at all. An A- was... good! Really good. And the marks Mister Lincoln had made were things that were fixable. She could polish this up a bit more. If she wanted to, that was.
She shoved it into her purse as the bell rang and she headed to the halls.
