Yearbook

May 25th , 2035 - 9:18 AM

The auditorium went silent as the tall man in a sharp suit approached the podium. He was Mr. Deccans, the principal of Noho and Ezra's middle school. The stage lights illuminated him as he adjusted the microphone and smiled warmly at the crowd.

"Hello, graduates. It's my pleasure to be with you all on this lovely Friday morning," he began with enthusiasm. "For today's graduation procedures, we'll follow the schedule as outlined in the itinerary. From now until about 9:40, I'll be talking to you about the graduation process and the activities planned afterward," he exclaimed, his tone brimming with excitement.

Noho slumped in her seat and whispered, "Why do we have to go through all of this before we graduate? Can't we just graduate already?"

"Patience, Noho," Ezra replied calmly. "You only graduate eighth grade once in your entire life. Let's just enjoy the moment."

On stage, Mr. Deccans continued, "From 9:40 to 10:50, we'll have yearbook signing! If you pre-ordered a yearbook, you can pick it up at the tables set up in front of the office. And if you didn't order one… well, today's your lucky day! The company that printed our yearbooks accidentally gave us 100 extra copies—for free!"

The students, who had been distracted before, now perked up at his words. Their murmurs quieted as they listened more intently.

"At a discounted price of $100, you can buy one of these extra yearbooks at the sales stand next to the tables! That's 50% off the original cost of $200. What a deal, right?"

The crowd erupted into cheers, especially among students who had missed the chance to order a yearbook or couldn't afford the original price.

Noho folded her arms and muttered under her breath, "Am I the only sane person here? He got those yearbooks for free, and now he's selling them for $100? That's so greedy."

"W-well," Ezra stammered, trying to reason, "maybe he has to sell them to raise money for next year's budget?"

Noho shook her head. "No, Ezra. He's doing it because the price is just low enough that it feels affordable to people now. And everyone's falling for it."

As the students settled down, Mr. Deccans cleared his throat and spoke again. "From 10:50 to 12:00, we'll hold the awards ceremony! This ceremony will recognize students for their athletic achievements, creative talents, and academic excellence. We'll also present awards for perfect attendance and student-voted categories, like 'Most Popular' or 'Best Dressed.'"

"I know what awards you're going to win, Noho," Ezra teased with a grin.

"Well, then I know you're going to win the 'Most Popular' award," Noho shot back playfully.

"I don't know about that," Ezra said, shrugging. "I might be popular, but I don't have many friends besides you. That award usually goes to people with tons of friends who'll vote for them."

"Well, I voted for you anyway," Noho said, smiling. "I think popularity should be about being kind to everyone, like you are."

Ezra chuckled softly. "Unfortunately, that's not how it works. In this world, popularity is all about influence and power, not about moral or intellectual qualities."

Noho tilted her head thoughtfully. "Do you ever think the world would be a better place if we chose leaders based on their intelligence and logical reasoning instead of just their popularity?"

"If that's how it worked, I think you'd make a great president, Noho. You're smart, and you think things through instead of letting emotions drive your decisions."

"Would I? If I were president, I'd try to make life more affordable. I'd lower the costs of basic necessities, make housing cheaper all across America, and make healthcare free—or at least affordable."

Ezra furrowed his brow. "If healthcare were free, wouldn't that cost the government more money?"

"Nah," Noho said confidently. "We'd just raise taxes a little. People wouldn't mind paying 20% more in taxes if it meant not paying $200,000 for surgery. Cheaper healthcare would save lives because more people could afford treatments."

"Wow, that actually makes sense," Ezra admitted.

"Mhm. I'd also—"

"Excuse me, children," a familiar voice interrupted.

They turned to see Principal Deccans standing beside them, his jovial smile edged with condescension. "It seems you've been so immersed in your conversation that you didn't notice your classmates have already left to sign yearbooks, yes?"

The principal straightened up, his movements deliberate, and gestured toward the doors. "Well, are you coming, or do you plan to sit here forever, chatting about meaningless things? The yearbooks are waiting for you," he said with a smirk before turning to walk away.

"I didn't even order a yearbook," Noho muttered, standing up with Ezra.

"Oh, you didn't?" Principal Deccans paused and glanced back at her. "How unfortunate. But you know, we're still selling them for—"

"Nope," Noho interrupted sharply. "I'm not buying one. I don't need it."

The two walked up the auditorium stairs and into the school's main lobby, where students clustered in groups, exchanging yearbooks to sign, purchasing copies at the sales stand, and chatting excitedly.

"You'd better go pick up your yearbook," Noho said to Ezra. "I know lots of people want your signature."

"Yeah, but what about you? What are you going to do for an hour without a yearbook?" Ezra asked. "Oh, wait! You could sign other people's yearbooks!"

"Nah, I'm not signing anyone's yearbook. I'm gonna…" Noho trailed off as a thought struck her. "Actually, there's somewhere I need to go. If anyone asks, tell them I'm in the bathroom!"

Before Ezra could respond, Noho bolted toward the front doors of the school.

Ezra watched her go, shaking his head with a bemused smile. "She's always so reckless," he muttered before turning back to join the crowd, leaving Noho to sprint into the streets of New York.