"Ow. Ow! OW STOP THAT!"

August gave the old computer a punch, immediately yelping as her knuckles cracked across the metallic surface. Mr. Grant, leaning on the nearby counter, gave a sigh.

"Please don't punch school property Miss Battaglia."
"Well it won't stop shocking me! Seriously, how old is this thing, it's shorting out every time I touch it!"
"Most electronics do that because [i]you[/i] touch them as I recall. Are you saying you can't fix it?"
"I fixed it ten minutes ago, I'm enhancing it now."

August found her screwdriver yanked from her hand sharply.

"That's quite enough! No tinkering, thank you for your help!"
"Oh come on, I bet I could make this thing scream! Maybe even literally."

The red head slid out from under the desk, brushing herself off vigorously as she adjusted her glasses. Her braid had been tied up in a large spiraling loop while she had been on the ground, to avoid dust getting into the huge mass of fiery locks. She gave a pout, which considering her features, was QUITE pronounced and pathetic looking.

"You're working with obsolete equipment!"
"It's what the school provides, thank you for fixing it, that'll be enough for me."

August gave a huff, but didn't fight too hard. For starters, her fingers were feeling tingly from the repeated shocks the obstinate little machine had given her. Secondly, Mr. Grant controlled her grades and lacked a sense of humor. Thirdly, she had a place to be. The letter sitting in her backpack had piqued her interest far too much to not follow up on. Untying her hair so the braid fell against her backside with a suprisingly heavy thump, she grabbed her bag and headed out of the room, waving to her teacher as she navigated the river that was Oakenheim High. She was at a distinct advantage and disadvantage with her size...she could squeeze through fairly easily, but people also tended to not notice her until they had run into her. Despite her bright red hair, the vibrant cream colored sweater, and cherry red sneakers, she barely came up to chest height for most of the students. Her head was already full of different concepts and ideas for her next experiment as she made a beeline towards room 12C. August knew the room well, the lights were janked, and most people believe it had been her that did it. It hadn't, but still, her reputation preceded her. She arrived in time to hear a boy talking, but didn't catch anything he said. Straightening her glasses, flipping her braid over her shoulder, and giving a smile, she walked in, then halted as she saw only two people. Immediately her train of thought derailed in it's usual manner as she scanned the pair, her smile replaced with a quirked grin that she always wore when thinking too fast, one eyebrow cocked low.

"What, this is it? Oh wait, I'm early? Well, early-ish, if you two beat me. Unless one of you sent the letter. Okay, I'm early. Man I fixed the computer faster than I thought...totally could have done more...I'm August, by the way. I'm in the right room, right?"

She leaned backwards out the door, grabbing the side as she looked at the number from a near horizontal orientation. Yup, right room. She whipped back in, heading over to a desk between the boy and the girl. Classrooms always had odd emotions. Pride, depression, nervousness, a whooooole lot of lust, joy, anger. This class had some lingering tastes that kept popping up. Very faded though, diluted, and she had gotten used to the kaleidoscope of emotions that came from hormonal teenagers. Hell, she was feeling them still, so they weren't exactly new. She sat cross legged on top of the desk, grinning at the pair as she waited for one of them to respond to her greeting.