LORI
I woke up with the air pressing down on me. It felt heavy and clinging, crawling into my lungs. My hair frizzed at the edges which was my first sign.
By the time I dragged myself into uniform and headed for breakfast, my skin was buzzing like there were tiny electric wires under it, and my stomach had that sour, queasy pull that only came when the clouds were about to open their throat and scream.
Rain was coming, it was the kind that made power flicker, windows rattle, and teachers blame us for water on the floor even though the whole damn roof leaked.
I stomped into the cafeteria, tray clattering on the table, and blurted out before anyone could say good morning, “Umbrellas. All of you. Or you’re gonna be drowned rats by third period.” Thankfully, I packed two plus a raincoat.
