The Night the Streetlights Screamed
The fluorescent lights above Elena Carter's head buzzed in a rhythm she'd memorized without meaning to—three flickers, a pause, then a low hum that lasted exactly as long as it took Mr. Hendricks to write another line of stoichiometry on the whiteboard. She'd counted it too many times during too many quizzes. This one was no exception.
*Balance the equation*, the paper in front of her demanded, and Elena stared at the jumble of symbols like they might rearrange themselves out of pity. Fe₂O₃ + something, plus something else, equals rust and regret. She tapped her pencil against her chemistry binder, chewing the inside of her cheek, and glanced up at the clock. Eleven minutes left. Eleven minutes to remember whether iron gained or lost electrons, and honestly, at this point, she felt like she was the one being oxidized—slowly stripped down to something duller than she started as.
She wasn't stupid. She wanted that on the record, even if only in the silent argument she held with herself. She just wasn't *quick*, not the way Riley Chen was quick, raising her hand before Hendricks even finished the question, her voice bright and certain, like she'd never once doubted an answer in her…
