HAYLEY
Mr Hale is the kind of teacher that makes you grow a dislike for a subject. Pale white skin, sunken eyes, and a drawly voice that makes you wonder if he has frogs for breakfast every morning, the man is anything but a lively figure.
He moves around the science lab where the entire class is seated in pairs this morning. “Today we'll be testing Precipitation Reactions, while identifying possible solutions for each mixture of substances.”
“Fan-fuckin-tastic,” Corey groans by my side. “Sounds like hell already.” I resist the urge to chuckle as our teacher walks past our table.
“In front of you are various clear, colorless solutions. You will identify these substances, mix them in the right quantity, and get this—” Mr Hale pauses to point at the projector in front of the class, whe
