Page 33 of The Commons

I’ve never met any Patron who delights in our pure suffering like she does. Our legs tremble and we shiver, terrified of her, yet I notice many brave faces staring at their test tubes with bold eyes, ready for a challenge.

“This test is actually the easiest, I think. It’s divided into two parts. One is a diamond. Two is a test tube. You will be put under the ground with a heat level of 133 degrees Fahrenheit. Yes, you heard me correctly. 133 degrees Fahrenheit. 56.1111 in Celsius for those of you who are Brits like moi... And yes, at a degree like that, a normal human being will begin to experience hyperpyrexia. And will face almost certain death. But you guys are not normal, right?”

This is insane! Is she for real?

“You should be happy De Londe mandates us to have limits on the temperature. If it was up to me, I’d crank it up to the real thing—2000 degrees Fahrenheit. But I guess we don’t want to kill you right at the start. It’s much more fun to watch you suffer and wait until the end.”

She continues.

“A diamond naturally has 3.3 billion years maximum. For the diamond portion of the challenge, you will have 3.3 minutes to complete the challenge of balancing 33 extremely difficult chemical equations. To pass the test with a C, you will have to complete it in 1 minute. B, 2 minutes: A, 3 minutes. 3.3 is a fail in my book. Don’t get kicked out of The Commons for 3 seconds of stupidity.”

What the heck!

“The second part of the test involves the test tubes, no pun intended. But this time, you will be our test tubes, like the ones in front of you. Take a good look at them, look at the bubbling, sizzling, everything. And imagine that you are inside of it, holding your breath. Because you will be immersed in a similar substance capable of burning your skin, Condoxin, my favorite substance! You will have to hold your breath in it for 21 minutes and 26 seconds. It’s the current year—it’ll go up every year.”

At this point, I don’t even know how to react. There is no doubt in my mind that I am in a deadly situation. Since this is the most rigorous week, according to time distribution, I’m lost in my mind again, getting worried… In an average week, I have 45 minutes of free time daily, divided into 8 minute increments (not counting our 45 minutes for breakfast, lunch and dinner time where nothing but eating is allowed). I have to go to a different science class every day this week and sit in class for 12 hours straight. Monday is biology; Tuesday, physics; and today [Wednesday] Chemistry. Tomorrow [Thursday] will be Algebra for the first five hours, Geometry for the next seven hours and Calculus on Friday. We will be tested on Saturday for Math, and on Sunday for Science. So, this week, I will only have from 7 to 7:45 tonight after classes to read for the 10 by 10 challenge.

“Blue eyes,” Patron Suzandrick calls out.

I snap out of my thoughts. She’s speaking to Zavish! He’s staring at the diamond on the table up front as opposed to his test tube on his own desk.

“Blue eyes!” Patron Suzandrick crushes a paper in her fist and throws it at Zavish’s face.

“Yes, Patron Suzandrick,” he responds and sits up, alert.

“Zavish Lumiere. Blue eyes. Blonde slick hair. Dig the accent. Dig the casinos in Vegas. Met all your prior siblings. You are all like clones, actually. But tell me, blue eyes, why did I have to call you twice?”

“Patron Suzandrick, I am deeply sorr⁠—”

“Oh, you will be sorry, deeply, yes! Because you are going first in the test. Which means you are also going to have absolutely no preparation for it. Now step out of my class and stand at the door until class is dismissed!”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Patrons do not like ma’am.”

“Yes, Patron Suzandrick, I’m so sorry!”

“It’s okay, you can just kneel there instead of standing for the six hours. I’m sure your knees will learn a thing or two about respect. Get out!”

He leaves. I gulp, feeling bad for Zavish. Even though I do not like him, no one deserves that amount of suffering for doing nothing but staring at a table.

Class goes on for the next six hours with endless speed drills on chemical formations and endless warnings from Suzandrick on how we are all going to die.

Tired, I step out of class to see Zavish beside me. Suzandrick strokes his hair and smiles with devious delight. She says something into his ear, hands him a blue detention paper and walks away.

“I’m sorry.” I empathize with him.

“Zavish Lumiere needs not your pity.”

“Right. Why were you staring at the chemical structure on the table in front? You know she’s hardcore⁠—”

“Don’t you get it? I wasn’t staring at the diamond structure in front of you, I was staring at you. You’re the diamond in front of me.”

I feel horrible, and I don’t know what to do or how to react, but I try not to let my sympathetic thoughts for him cloud my rational mind about the manner of person I am talking to. But before I can do that, Zavish, with his all-powerful pride does that for me.

“Suzandrick is jealous. That’s just her way of saying it. You should probably know she hates you as much as me now, though what she has for me is not really hate. But she just told me you will be going second in the test for being the object that brought my punishment.”

“What? Please tell me you’re joking!” I sigh in disbelief.