The Trouble with Prep School

In the middle of my free period, I walk down the hall to get a drink of water. There are four kids in the hall, hanging out by the lockers. All four of them are working on schoolwork. They are diligent and quiet. So quiet that we can all hear my shoes squeak as I walk by.

If these kids were normal, they'd be bad and rebellious in the halls and no one would hear the embarrassing squeak of brown suede.