Chat Room

Tanzina was bored. It didn't take her very long to lose interest in the efforts of the best of lecturers, and Mrs. Enid Paquin could barely be defined as a lecturer. Mrs. Paquin was over 70, had glasses thick enough to replace the lens on the Hubble telescope and understood the mentality of the kids she was teaching as well as a horse cart vying for pole position on the F1 circuit. Explaining the intricacies of light waves to teenage boys using examples of delicate flowers in nature. Tanzina wondered if any one had thought of a Nobel prize for Irony. She would have made a scene and escaped the torture, but as it was obvious to everyone in the school including their otherwise-clueless headmaster, that Mrs Paquin was born to play the role of detention master. And they had recently removed all hook like objects from the dentention hall ceiling, so a quick painless death was out of the question. She sat and calculated her odds, and decided that meditating her way through 40 minutes of course scheduled was better than 15 minutes of whatever Mrs Paquin would find interesting to talk about if left to her own devices.

Luckily, Gregson was known for its excellent showings in AP exams for mathematics and physics so all students were allowed laptops in every class except exams. The network was locked by the institute, but kids who could ace the APs generally knew their way around pretty much anything the 30-year old computer administrator alumni could throw at them. Tanzina thought how funny it was that they still made an effort, considering how the same IT department boasted to themselves how they had broken every computer firewall protocol in Gregson when they themselves were students. She tunneled through rerouted proxies until she reached the online chess forum. But no one home except the old impotent PC opponent. She decided to take a stab at it, figuring it to be the lesser of two evils. About 6 minutes and 2 victories later, Tanzina was bored beyond belief.