30 minutes later she was out the door with her books. She
had to hop the subway like she always did. If anyone saw
her, which they didn't, they didn't care. They would stop
other people. Line, however, was invisible.
She strode into her school, one of those higher class P-
18's meant to segreate the jatti. But there she was, torn
jeans and all, smelling like cigarette smoke, cement, and
sex. Every guy chastised themselves for being attracted to
her. Half of her teaches loved her and half of them hated
her. Line knew all this and didn't give a shit.
Mr. Breward asked where her work was. SHe handed in a
collection of dingy and torn peices of paper with swan
handwriting. Marxism and Capitalism--frontiers in economic
and sociolical philosophies. He knew it was brilliant. Foiled
She curved her red lipstick and went to sleep.