"What does the word bukkake mean to you?"

"–the worst! You are the worst!"

He shoves him, laughing.

"Go look it up yourself!"

"There's no way it gets through the school filters and I want to know if it's different here!"

"You have a phone! Use it!"

He drags Camillo up onto his feet.

"I can't believe you'd abandon me like this in my hour of need."

"If you want another blowjob you're gonna have to wait until lunch."

"Or alter the fabric of the universe."

"Oh, sure, take the easy way out."

He looks a little flattered.

"I -- oh, shit, bell."

The bell is in fact clamoring.

"Okay. Okay. See you at lunch!"

"Ah, shit. See you!"

He bolts.

Even breaking every rule about running in the halls, Camillo can't retrieve his abandoned backpack in time to avoid being tardy to his next class. Great.

Mr. Teegarden will be so disappointed in him.

Mr. Teegarden is, luckily for him, still taking roll when he comes in.

He pauses, briefly, to glance at him passing through the door, and a second later —

"Fitzroy?"

"Here!" By the grace of god.

"Fantastic."

And he continues on with roll.

(Mr. Teegarden thinks he's fantastic.)

(All right, it was probably sarcasm, but he'll take what he can get.)

Camillo unpacks his books, and also his student handbook, just in case. But he'll try to pay attention. Mostly. Definitely.

Once roll is called, Mr. Teegarden proceeds with, as usual, making his best attempt to squeeze some honest literary analysis out of Honors English 11.

“Show of hands, please — who’s finished the reading? Honest answers, please, this is a strictly practical question.”

Look who is a good student.

He takes a quick count.

“Excellent! Thank you all for your participation.”

He makes a note.

“Everyone who didn’t — you have the next ten minutes to catch up as much as you’re able. Everyone who did — yes! Drugs and sex featured in Chapter 3! Group up, discuss, get it out of your systems!”

Okay but he hates breaking up into small groups. He would rather sit here and think about Mr. Teegarden saying drugs and sex.

"Everyone in this book is straight and it's dumb," Camillo opines to his neighbors, flipping through chapter three and looking for inspiration.

(Most of it sounds too poorly thought-out to be a good idea, but too insipidly pleasant to be a fun idea. Centrifugal Bumble-Puppy sounds fun, though, maybe he can implement it in PE? He scribbles Cent. B-P and feelies and soma on a notecard.)

“Maybe they just didn’t show any of the gay people yet,” says the student next to him, tentatively.

“Not everything has to be gay,” says another, rolling her eyes.

"I finished the book. No gays. Just breeders," he adds, to antagonize the heterosexual who has somehow wandered into Mr. Teegarden's Flamingly Homosexual Literature Class.

“—no, they don’t have babies themselves. That was in the first chapter.”

Ginger immediately seems to realize this may have been excessively literal, and flushes, looking down at the floor.