"Biology II. The air in the classroom was thick with the scent of formaldehyde and teenage angst. I slumped into a chair in the back, next to a hulking jock who scowled at me with the disdain of a Roman emperor. Perfect. Blend in, nap occasionally, and avoid any semblance of genuine learning. This town, this school, this entire existence felt like a suffocating cage. My parents, God bless their simple souls, had never ventured beyond the confines of Pasadena. Married young, they'd built their lives here, a monotonous loop of routine and repetition. I craved something more, a grand adventure beyond these familiar, stifling walls. What that 'more' was, I wasn't entirely sure, but this wasn't it.

  Then, like a siren song, Olivia walked in, trailed by Bo, her books clutched awkwardly in his meaty hands. My blood ran cold. The sight of them together, a nauseating tableau of young love, reignited the embers of my fury. He, the usurper, dared to touch my… well, my future. Petty vengeance, fueled by adolescent angst, had led to a laxative slipped into his drink, a chair strategically super-glued to the floor. Desperate measures for a desperate situation.

  Mrs. Whitley, a beacon of nerdy elegance in a yellow sundress and bifocals, smiled at us, her voice warm and welcoming. "Good morning class! I hope you all enjoyed your summer breaks. To kick things off, let's get to know each other. Each of you will stand, tell us your name, where you're from, and one unique thing about you."

  My turn. "My name is Jake Dentin, I'm from Pasadena, Texas, and I like photography." Mrs. Whitley smiled encouragingly.

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  "Loser," Bo muttered, a smirk playing on his lips.

  Mrs. Whitley's smile faltered. "Mr. Brackman, that type of behavior will not be tolerated in this class."

  "Now class," she continued, her voice regaining its cheerful tone, "today we'll be diving right in with a hands-on lesson! Please put on your gloves, safety goggles, and lab coats."

  She gestured towards a cooler. "Mr. Dentin, would you mind distributing the specimens?"

  I donned the lab coat, a shroud against the inevitable boredom. I retrieved the frogs, cold and lifeless, and placed one on each table. Lab partners were quickly formed, a flurry of introductions and awkward shuffles. A lone redhead stood hesitantly, her lip trembling. "Hey," I offered, "I'm Jake. Want to be partners?"

  "Hi, I'm Susan," she replied, a shy smile gracing her lips. "Sure."

  We found a vacant station.

  "Okay class," Mrs. Whitley instructed, "remove the frog from its packaging and place it on its back, belly-up, in the tray. Some may be stiff… blah blah blah."

  My mind drifted. I focused on Olivia, her laughter mingling with Bo's inane chatter. The image of him, bloated and struggling, the frog clinging desperately to his face, brought a perverse sense of satisfaction. I chuckled, a low, guttural sound.

  Then, the impossible happened. The frog on Bo's table, seemingly lifeless, twitched, then leaped, landing squarely on his face. Bo shrieked, flailing wildly, "Help! Get it off! It's possessed!"

  He scrambled around the table, a whirlwind of flailing limbs and panicked shouts. Olivia, her face a mixture of shock and amusement, helped pry the amphibian from his face.

  I stared in disbelief. Did I… did I just… cause that? I'd been imagining something like that happening. Coincidence? Or something more… sinister? A shiver ran down my spine. Maybe this wouldn't be so boring after all.