[center][h3] [/h3][/center][h3][hr][color=#B8293B]Addy Spletzer[/color][/h3][hr][sup][i]Tuesday, September 3rd || Mather Memorial: Journalism Room[/i][/sup][indent] [/indent] “Rough morning? Or is it just the food coma kicking in?” Clarence asked. A few chuckles ran through the otherwise quiet journalism room as the new students shifted in their seats. At the front of the class where the paper’s staff sat and stood along with the other returning members, Addy looked out at the new recruits, a flat smile on her face. So this is what she had to work with her senior year. Great. “Well, whatever the case, welcome to newspaper! My name is Clarence, and I’ll be your editor-in-chief this year,” Clarence continued. “In the back we have Mr. Morrison, our teacher advisor, and beside me is the rest of The Raven staff.” On cue, the staff waved, Addy among them. Unfortunately, no amount of impatience was going to make this cheesy intro go faster. “This class is where we, the Raven staff, write and compile articles for our award-winning publication, and by ‘award’ we mean ‘awards,’” Clarence continued, indicating the side wall where numerous certificates and engraved plates hung. “So, real quick, let’s run through everyone on the staff. Give us your name, year, position, and… what you did over the summer.” Addy managed not to pull a face. Whether or not Clarence had run the schedule by her was irrelevant; icebreaker questions were a waste of time. “I’ll start. My name is Clarence, and, again, your editor-in-chief. I’m a senior, and this summer I volunteered abroad in Costa Rica.” He looked to his left to Tabs, who grinned. “Hey all, I’m Tabitha, but you can call me Tabs. I’m your news head, junior, and this summer I visited France and Italy. If any of you are thinking of going, feel free to hit me up for restaurant recommendations.” She turned her grin on Addy, who resisted rolling her eyes. Petty. “Hi everyone, I’m Addy, and I’m your other news head this year,” Addy said, waving as she pointedly avoided Tabs’ grin. “I’m also a junior, and this summer I worked at Espresso House in West Crestwood. They had me at ‘unlimited caffeine.’” On the staff intros went, Clarence transitioning the stage to the new members after the last member of the staff finished speaking. Addy perked up at this, watching as the new members picked between flexing their familial wealth and easing the tension with a cheesy joke or two about their summers. Since this was her future staff, she had to separate the investments from the weeds and figure out who was both a good writer and here to stay. The weeds were the people here looking for a grade or a requirement, and after the year was over, they’d pick a different class and move on. The investments were the ones who were looking to stay, and the good ones were staying not because commitment looked good on college applications but because they were truly interested in writing for the paper. These were the people Addy—as well as the paper—would benefit most from having around, and Addy appreciated a hard worker. When intros were done, the group moved on to story overviews, where the column heads briefed the group on what was being worked on for the week. Though Tabs and she jockeyed a bit for the stage, they managed to keep the news brief relatively tame, and soon enough the talk was done and the period was just about over, as was customary on days when column heads gave briefs. Clarence opened the rest of the time up for story sign-ups, encouraging new members to talk to column heads to sign up for some basic reporting, and after Addy talked to a new face or two, the bell rang and she was onto her next class. [hr][sup][i]Tuesday, September 3rd || Mather Memorial: The Loft[/i][/sup][indent] [/indent] The front row was the last choice for many, but it was always the first for Addy. Sitting there guaranteed that the teacher would notice you, guaranteed that you’d make a good impression provided you paid attention and participated some. In fact, sitting in front actually detracted from suspicion, as some of the kids in her AP classes had figured out. Cheating in the front row ran rampant in classrooms where the teacher’s desk was positioned in the back, but this class wasn’t an AP class. Though this classroom had no front seats, it still had a front, and that’s where Addy headed as soon as she entered. Sitting down at one of the cushions beside Jonas’ desk, Addy watched as her new peers flowed in, watched as both upper and underclassmen joined her in the dusty classroom that had likely seen better days years ago. ‘Social Conscience’ sounded about as far from an academic class as one could get, and the fact that sophomores and—could it be?—freshmen were here with her meant it was probably going to be a survey class of sorts. Maybe the school was taking a census for their next new program, or maybe they were finally getting around to singling out the problem students. Though Addy was pretty sure there was nothing of note with Charlie or Demi, she was just as sure of there being something to note with Kayla and herself. Perhaps the school was finally going to get back at her for writing all those controversial articles. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time the school tried to do something; though publicizing issues tended to take the heat off her and put it on her subject in the eyes of the community, she’d been called in for a fair number of talks with the principal, and they were on a tense first-name basis of sorts. However, that Rosalyn was here called that all into question. While some rich folk were certainly touchable, Rosalyn’s family name preceded her, as did their impact on—and therefore influence in—the community. Even Addy had to cave a little when it came to the Osbornes, but Rosalyn knew that their relationship didn’t mean she got off scot-free for everything. Or, at least, she'd be better off if she assumed that. If Addy had boundaries, though, the school had even less, so Rosalyn being here meant the class was not some sort of half-baked attempt at reformation. In that case, was it really just a new class, enrolling a random pool of students for its first trial? Whatever it was, Addy was going to find out. After class. When she cornered Mr. [i]Jonas[/i] Lehrer to politely ask him for a time when she could interview him about the class. The student body had a right to know what he was teaching, or at least that’d be Addy’s sell—not that she thought she needed one. Any new teacher who didn’t want to advertise themselves and get their name out to the student body was a teacher looking to get booted, and new teachers generally wanted to stay. When Jonas started talking, he confirmed some of Addy’s suspicions and dispelled others, introducing the class as what it was: some sort of anti-depression self-help course. Naturally, Addy was about done with the class by the time he introduced his semi-innovative icebreaker. Though trips were nice and all, she wasn’t looking forward to doing anything, much less going anywhere, with this lot of people. At the very least, though, she had a firsthand take on every story she might write to cover this class, which she hoped would be many. The class had a varied cast, after all, and though most of them seemed like reasonable folk, perhaps Felix would be inclined to punch Aiden again after a heated bus trip, or Kayla’s friend would mysteriously decide to strike during one of their trips. There was no way to know for sure, but Addy had her fingers crossed. Kayla stood up to introduce herself first, ending with a question for Jonas. When she sat back down, silence settled in for a second, only to be broken by the entrance of a large black-and-white dog. A husky, if Addy was recalling her dog names correctly, and one who Kayla quickly named as Oleander, thus marking it as hers. At this, Addy checked for Jonas’ reaction. Depending on his response, she could use this as an anecdote in the story. Unfortunately, that plan fell through since he opted to silently wait for the class to calm down from his place in the front. When quiet fell again, Addy cleared her throat, giving the class a small wave. Standing up was a hassle. [color=#B8293B]“Hi everyone, I’m Addy. I’m a junior, one of the news heads for The Raven, and whatever else you might think of me because, well, there’s probably a kernel of truth in that.”[/color] She yielded the floor with a thin smile, hoping someone else would keep the snowball rolling because right now, Social Conscience was shaping up to be a boring class of non-talkers.