(no subject)
"Look," Ginger said desperately, leafing through the textbook in front of her. How the fuck had that Stephanie person done this? "I'm supposed to mark you on your understanding of the text, which is clearly bullshit, because they expect everyone to understand the same thing, which sounds like memorising to me."
"Miss, you're meant to be teaching us," Brandon said patiently, "not having your mid-life crisis."
"And as far as I can see this whole class is supposed to be teaching you how to bullshit something out of a bunch of words that don't really make any sense." Ginger laid the textbook down with a frantic grin and said, "You should make up an alibi for these characters that would convince me that they didn't do the murder we all just saw them do - I have to go -"
"SOMEONE IS TRYING TO KILL ME," Stephanie hissed into the phone the moment Dr Nbuke picked it up.
"Four days ago you were going to kill yourself," Dr Nbuke said without much sympathy.
"Should I go to the police? Will you back me up?"
"Fuck no," Dr Nbuke said. "In what way do you think what we did was legal? At the moment I don't want anyone even knowing it's possible."
Stephanie clutched at her hair. Thanks to the aggressive routine of heavy bleaching that Ginger apparently put it through to maintain her coppery locks, some of it broke off in her hand. "I'm going to do it, I'm going to the bloody police-"
"You listen to me," Dr Nbuke said, her voice steely. "You're not a posh white girl any more, Stephanie. If you go to the police in that body, with that body's past, they will just bang you up for all eternity. Get a fucking grip. Do what Dr Shia and I did."
"What? Shove someone through untested science for--"
"Shut up. Find yourself a white boy to hide behind. One who can talk the talk. Like Timmy."
"Miss, you're meant to be teaching us," Brandon said patiently, "not having your mid-life crisis."
"And as far as I can see this whole class is supposed to be teaching you how to bullshit something out of a bunch of words that don't really make any sense." Ginger laid the textbook down with a frantic grin and said, "You should make up an alibi for these characters that would convince me that they didn't do the murder we all just saw them do - I have to go -"
"SOMEONE IS TRYING TO KILL ME," Stephanie hissed into the phone the moment Dr Nbuke picked it up.
"Four days ago you were going to kill yourself," Dr Nbuke said without much sympathy.
"Should I go to the police? Will you back me up?"
"Fuck no," Dr Nbuke said. "In what way do you think what we did was legal? At the moment I don't want anyone even knowing it's possible."
Stephanie clutched at her hair. Thanks to the aggressive routine of heavy bleaching that Ginger apparently put it through to maintain her coppery locks, some of it broke off in her hand. "I'm going to do it, I'm going to the bloody police-"
"You listen to me," Dr Nbuke said, her voice steely. "You're not a posh white girl any more, Stephanie. If you go to the police in that body, with that body's past, they will just bang you up for all eternity. Get a fucking grip. Do what Dr Shia and I did."
"What? Shove someone through untested science for--"
"Shut up. Find yourself a white boy to hide behind. One who can talk the talk. Like Timmy."