You’re predictable

When I woke up this morning, I was already in a bad mood. Not just the kind of bad mood where coffee could fix it—no, this was the kind of mood where even the thought of breakfast made me want to set something on fire. Why, you ask? Because of Leora. 

Only Leora, with her infinite energy and complete lack of compassion, could think it was a great idea to start training at six in the morning.

Six. A.M. School started at eight. We were already giving these kids an education and, apparently, now a militaristic survival regimen.

Was this really necessary? Couldn't we just give them some extra credit or, I don't know, let them bake cupcakes for morale? But no, here I was, wing-deep in Leora's madness, watching students stumble, scream, and somehow not die. Yet.

And then there was Rhiannon.