Marit’s boots hung heavily a few inches off the ground. There was a bored sounding thunk as the heels slapped against one another. Another year of school, Marit huffed, another year of boring old school. For a school full of gifted folks you’d think there would be more for a girl to do around here. The campus was so full of specific little cliques, you had your artists, your musicians, your jocks, your freaks... But they all kind of stayed to themselves. What happened to intramurals, what happened to clubs?? It was so narrow. No one, at least that she’d seen, seemed to do anything other than what they were good at! How boring! She didn’t really fit in to any of those groups, but she didn’t see why she should have to. She was a floater. She’d go where it was interesting. (Which was nowhere.) She heaved a sigh, heavier than it needed to be, but for the sake of posterity it was as fulfilling as anything.

This poor little picnic table...green eyes scrutinized the red metal weave. It didn’t have a clue that today it was supporting a bottom instead of a plate. It didn’t care. In fact, no one would be the wiser if she just--hopped off--. There. No butt-print. It sat just as innocently as before. Someone would go and put their tray there later, and have no clue. She snorted, wiping off her backside.

She was so booored. She did a little dance in place, spinning around in a circle and watching as the colors flew by. It was not nearly as amusing as she had hoped it would be. None of this was. The lawn with its trees and its picnic benches were so normal. In a school for the gifted everything was so utterly normal. She decided to wander, search for other students afflicted by the afternoon lull. She knew most of the campus, but still, maybe she’d come across something interesting. Anything would be better than just sitting here.