Sebastian stared at me, lips parting, then pressing shut. He swallowed whatever he'd been about to say.
He knew. In a class held hostage by the cult of Loretta, anyone who crossed her became a target.
The storm passed. Henry took Loretta by the arm and led her away.
I lowered my head and tucked the pink pen into my pencil case.
Then I unzipped the hidden inner pocket of my uniform jacket and checked. Two identical black gel pens lay inside, exactly where I'd left them.
The morning of the SATs, our homeroom teacher stood at the podium for one final reminder. Her gaze swept the room, and she leaned into every syllable.
"Check your supplies one more time. Besides your number-two pencils for the bubble sheet, all written responses must be answered with a 0.5-millimeter black ink pen!"
The words barely left her mouth before Loretta's hand shot up, pink-polished nails glinting under the fluorescent lights. Her voice came out syrupy and small.
"Miss, can baby use a pink pen? Black makes baby feel all suffocated and anxious. It'll totally mess up baby's performance..."
She pressed a hand to her chest as she spoke, eyes glistening, the picture of a fragile creature on the verge of collapse.