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in the imagined moment, he leaned forward to kiss her.
    Rosalia put a hand on his shoulder. “Come on, we should go.”
    “Do you remember when we first met?”
    “At Bowie?” she asked, slipping her palette into her bag.
    “No, in junior high. Remember in the cafeteria? You reconciled a whole table.”
    “Are you sure that was me?” She led him to the door and peeked outside.
    “Yeah, you did a moon crashing into the ocean and the Earth breaking up.”
    “Why would I do that?”
    Deron detected a hint of nervous laughter in her voice. “It was a dream you had, right?”
    She closed her eyes briefly and let out something resembling a sigh and a curse mashed together. When she looked back at him, her eyes were that rare kind of serious. “Yeah, I remember.”
    “Do you still have that dream?”
    “Yeah.”
    “Does it always end the same way?”
    “Always,” she replied. Her fingers were soft as she took his hand and pulled him into the hallway.
    5 - Russo
     
    As unquestioned ruler of Easton Central High School, it was Principal Ficcone’s job to mete out punishment when one of his students got out of line. How he went about it depended on whether parents were in attendance. If they were, his veneer remained professional and his tone even. If they weren’t, if instead the student just happened to be accompanied by two Easton uniforms, then the principal wouldn't even bother with formalities. Whether it was his scowl or tone of voice, the man had no trouble expressing his anger.
    Some judge in a black nightgown had issued summary probation for Russo, telling him that trespassing was a serious offense and that if he wanted to occupy the building, he would have to purchase it legally. He then instructed the uniforms to drop him back at campus. That was half an hour prior and Russo had made the mistake of mentioning an exam in English. They slowed down on purpose, even pretended to get lost when they got close to the school.
    Ficcone thanked the uniforms for their efforts and escorted Russo into the school. They crossed one hall and entered the main atrium, but when Russo started drifting to the right, the principal spoke in a tight voice.
    “Where do you think you’re going?”
    Russo paused, pointed towards the hallway. “I have English now.”
    “No, you had English twenty minutes ago. You’re tardy.”
    “But, but, I have an exam!” Russo pretended to bite his nails.
    “Save it, Russo. We’re going to ISS.”
    Russo had spent most of his high school career as a guest of the In-School Suspension room and despite his protests, he actually preferred it to regular classes. It was where teachers sent unruly students or those unlucky enough to be in the hallways when the second bell rang. It wasn’t that different from any other classroom, except that the teacher changed depending on the period. Russo assumed there was some kind of forced lottery where the losers had to take turns babysitting the delinquents.
    Ficcone held the door open for him. “He’s all yours, Mr. Lee.”
    A hidden smile crept onto Russo’s face. Mr. Lee didn’t give a damn what happened in the ISS room, so long as no one got seriously injured. Turning around to find a seat, his smile turned into a full-blown grin when he saw Jalay sitting at the back of the room. He kicked his chair as he took the seat next to him.
    “I see you made it, bitch.”
    “Yeah,” replied Jalay, raising his eyebrows slightly. “What happened to you?”
    “Probation,” he announced, as if it were some kind of consolation prize.
    “I wonder why he chased you and not me.”
    Russo thought about it for a moment. “Probably had something to prove. You know uniforms; they’re just waiting for the chance to beat up on some innocent kid who happens to walk through a door.”
    “There were signs,” Jalay pointed out.
    “I didn’t see any!”
    Mr. Lee looked up for a moment, but said nothing.
    “So what’re you doing in here anyway?” asked