wrecked by the bomb that was always right there, lodged in my gut, waiting to blow everything to pieces.
My brain told me I was living this life already. I did everything a human could, right? I knew more about virtual reality than any of these kids, I thought. My whole life was one extended virtual-reality experience.
That’s how I knew that Professor Grassi didn’t fully understand. The brain could deliver the data, show that you were having one kind of experience. You were a rap star, or a queen. The brain could say anything it wanted, but the heart would always know the truth. My heart knew the machine part of me couldn’t “live” on its own. It was the other side of me, the human side, that made my virtual reality something different. The heart gave meaning to my experiences. It let me feel loss, and love.
I’d never thought about it quite that way before, I realized. Who would have thought I’d actually learn something as a prospective student at Montford? Sarah had endured something awful here, something we would need to figure out before we left this campus. But she could have learned here, too, I thought. She could have had an education. Just another thing she lost, because of Holland.
Professor Grassi was giving his class an assignment. “Now, I want you to come up with an original idea for a virtual-reality experience, why it would be of benefit to society, and discuss the fundamentals of coding for that VR.”
As the class continued its excited chatter, and Grassi took more notes, something odd happened.
A security prompt flashed behind my eyes, vanishing before I could make sense of it. I ran the security scan Lucas had installed. The one that alerted me if I was being hijacked again.
Clear.
Clear.
Clear.
Everything checked out. Holland hadn’t found me . . . yet. Air left my lungs in one relieved gush. Until I saw Hannah. I didn’t need my android capabilities to tell me something was wrong. My heart took over as I saw her, seemingly out of her mind.
While everyone else discussed virtual-reality scenarios, she’d pulled a multi-tool out of her backpack, flipped open the scissors, and without a word to anyone, started cutting her hair.
“Hannah,” I said, half rising. Did she even know what she was doing? Her neighbor to the left had noticed, too.
“Hey, what are you doing?” he said. Loud enough that the rest of the class craned their necks to see.
“Felt like a haircut. Since there’s no virtual-reality app for that yet,” she said. I frowned at the lack of inflection in her voice.
Grassi looked up from his tablet, saw what was happening, and tossed it aside. “Hannah, I know I’m a little unorthodox, but that’s unacceptable behavior in my classroom. Put the scissors away and pay attention, before I have to write you up.”
She blinked up at him, then down at the scissors in her hand. They clattered to the desk while her hand flew to her hair. Her lips parted in horror.
“Are you feeling okay?” he said, frowning down at her. “Maybe you should go to the nurse’s office.”
Hannah nodded, grabbed her backpack, and bolted.
A worry line crossed his forehead. Once the door shut, he turned back to us. He scoured the waiting faces before settling on one. “Celia, could you come here, please?”
As Celia walked up to his desk, the whispers started up again. So much that it was hard to hear their conversation.
Using my audio enhancement, I deleted the interference so I could focus on what they were saying.
“I know the two of you are friends,” Grassi said. “Do you know if Hannah is taking anything that could be harmful or potentially dangerous? Remember, it’s your obligation to speak up if you have concerns.”
Celia was shaking her head. “Sorry, not that I know of. I mean, she seems tired lately . . . but that’s how she always is.” She bit her lip and looked at the door.
Grassi studied her expression before nodding. “Okay. Will you go check on her, please?”
In a flash, Celia slung her backpack over her shoulder and rushed out of the room.
Grassi sat at his desk and leaned back, arms crossed. “That’s why I always tell you guys to make sure to get enough sleep. Lay off the caffeine and hydrate, and for god’s sakes, none of those Monster drinks. There’s a reason they call them that. Anyway, tomorrow we’ll discuss your ideas. Make sure you have them ready. Class dismissed.”