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The tiger walked toward the counselor's area. Past the library, into the first-grade hallway. He had not been to this area... well, not since first grade, of course. It was decorated with pale blue bricks, which actually looked freshly coated. When he was there, nearly half his life ago, it was a very dingy blue, and the brick-polish was chipped and abraded. But now, it was as buff and pristine as if the school had opened up yesterday.

Nestled in the corner of the juncture between library and first-grade classrooms, just to his right, there was a door in a recess. He approached the door, and knocked.

It opened, and the old polar bear smiled. "Hello, Arkethius." She smiled.

"Morning, Mrs. Oulryk," he replied, sleepily.

"Uh oh," she said with concern as he passed into the room. "I hope you're awake enough to take the tests."

"I'll be okay," he assured. He had gotten much better since yesterday. His allergies had gone away, if that's what they were. Well, for the most part. His nose had stopped running, to Emeral's relief this morning. But, he couldn't breath during the night. He kept waking up; one or the other, or both, nostrils stopped-up. Only a short while before they arrived at school, his head began to ache. Not all over, but just behind his eyes and forehead.

"Well," the bear led him toward a row of desks in the spacious room. "In that case, do you have to use the restroom, or do you need a bit of a snack before we start? I can get you something from the cafeteria."

"No, thank you. I had four pop-tarts for breakfast," he replied.

"Glad to see you've come prepared," she praised. Then, she paused. "Hm... It's so different, meeting in this room instead of The House."

"I wish I could take the test in The House," he replied to her thought.

"I'm sorry, but I'm afraid that wouldn't be proper." She smiled, as if she had just made a bit of a joke. "So, I guess we should get started. We have a lot to do today; please, have a seat where you wish."

Ket selected the first desk.

"Now then, I'm sorry but I have to go through all the boring rhetoric again."

"That's all right," he replied, sitting attentively.

"I promise it's a little different." She cleared her throat. "Now then. Arkethius, you will be taking the;" Really Stupid and Boring Tests; "This is the standardized test as-developed-and-proctored by the State. These are a series of tests which will evaluate your knowledge and skills in such subjects as: Reading, Language Arts, Social Studies, Science, and Mathematics. Do you have any questions?"

"No ma'am."

She continued. "You will be taking a particular series of tests that cover material taught at the sixth-grade level. These tests were designed specifically for you, and they will be abridged versions of the more formal tests given at varying incremental grade-levels." She paused, glancing to him from behind her lenses. "Any questions?"

He shook his head.

"Please be aware that these tests will not be reflected on your permanent record; whether or not you attain satisfactory scores. This is an informal test that is a requirement for consideration of promotion past the sixth grade and into the seventh, at the start of the next school year.

"Should you fall short of meeting the satisfactory requirements of this particular series of tests, your promotion will be disqualified, and you will need to attend the sixth grade as you would under normal circumstances. You will not be required to take any remedial courses, and you will not be required to take the RSBTs again, until required by the State at the eighth-grade level. Also, should you fall short of meeting the satisfactory requirements of this particular series of tests, you may--should you choose and should your academic performance be sufficient to allow--attempt promotion into the eighth grade near the end of your sixth-grade year."

She let out a huff. "I'm sorry. I don't know why they make that so confusing. Do you have any questions about what I just rambled?"

"I don't think so... It's just saying that if I fail, it's like it never happened in the first place, right?"

"That is correct. But I have no doubt you will pass. Also, as I said, the tests are shorter, so we will be able to get through them all today. And, there is no writing."

"Okay. I think I'm ready."

"Very good."

She handed him his Scantron card, and they went through him filling it out. It looked the same as the other Scantron, but she assured him that he would just leave the excess area of each section blank.

He was starting to get a bit nervous. His temples throbbed painfully.

"We will start with Social Studies."

Great. He broke open the Social Studies booklet and answered the sample question. It was actually one of the questions he had answered on Tuesday. He at least got that one right.

"You have thirty minutes. Ready? ...Begin."

The first question hit him.

---

What was the name given to the series of laws enacted between 1876 and 1965 that legalized the segregation of schools and other public places?

A. Jim Crow Laws

B. Jon Crow Laws

C. Joseph McCarthy Laws

D. Jim Crane Laws

---

He took a few moments to think. But then, as his nerves came under control, he remembered the question from the section reviews Ms. Hupp had him do. It was the Jim Crow Laws.

His pencil hovered over the Scantron for a moment. He held a breath.

This was it. This was the first step into seventh grade. The culmination of weeks-worth of extra studying, inconvenience, and a lot of pressure. He sniffed, his left nostril beginning to clog, now that his head was looking downward at the paper.

It meant something else, too. Something that he had come to realize over the last few weeks. Something he had not thought about at first--and he was a little ashamed he had come to realize it all too late.

The tip of the pencil touched the Scantron, and blackened the second bubble from the left.

* * *

Emeral was practically skipping, with Ket's hand tightly held. All week she had waited for today. Since before the RSBTs they decided to keep their after-school togetherness to a minimum. Well, it was her suggestion really. She knew that he was going to be stressed, as would she.

So, every day they had their at-least-five-minute hug, which was pretty much a five-minutes-on-the-nose hug, and then he would head back home.

She almost didn't know what to do with herself the first day. She had spent way too much time watching TV and playing on the computer. She was really looking forward to having at least an hour more to hang out--even if all they did was watch TV or play on the computer.

She entered in the code, but the gate denied her.

"Oh yeah," she bit her lip. "They changed it this morning. Mom texted it to me, hang on." She fished in her backpack for her purse, and then in her purse for her phone.

All the while, her boyfriend leaned against the gate, hand idly grabbing a rung.

She kept the corner of her eye on him. He looked a bit wiped-out. At least he had stopped leaking out his nose! That test must have taken a lot out of him--it was a lot of effort for it. She would make sure to make him as comfy as possible, maybe even warm him up some Insta-Mac.

"Here it is," she said. "One-three-seven, two-eight-five. I'll write it down when we get inside."

The gate clacked as it came to life. The tiger leaning against it waited until the absolute last possible moment before he moved away.

She chuckled. At least he could still act silly.

"Oh look!" She pointed at the pond, "We have little ducks!"

They went--well, she pulled him--over to the pond. When she stopped, he almost fell in; she had to catch him a little. "Whoa now, don't get that excited."

"You're the one pullin' me," he mumbled.

Her lips went to one side of her muzzle. "Well someone's in a grumpy mood," she teased. "Maybe we can feed them!"

"Last time I tried to feed a duck," he said, while glowering at the fowl, "its friends tried to eat me."

She giggled.

"No really, I'm serious." He stated dryly. "I was giving a duck some bread and all of a sudden these huge ducks came by and started chasing after me. Then one bit my tail."

"Those were probly geese," she corrected, watching as one of the ducks pruned its feathers. "But... if you dunn wanna feeds 'em cuz you was a'traumatized I un'nerstan's," she patted his head teasingly.

He winced.

She giggled. "C'mon. It's muggy out here. Bye duckies!"

Quack.

The AC kicked on just as they shut the door. Perfect timing, as she remarked. The alarm beeped, warning them of its impending panic, and the tigress used the stool nearby to get up to its height. She punched in the code, and it calmed down. Panic averted.

He hated the way it chirped. It was a new addition to the Brillian household; a reaction to his own getting ransacked.

After sloughing off their backpacks and wrenching their shoes from their heels, she didn't even wait for him to make the move. She hugged him gingerly; standing on her tippy-toes so she could rest her chin on his shoulder.

"Squeezing," he managed to say.

"Sorry," she eased the embrace.

His breath was audibly strained for a few seconds after. "Can we sit?" He asked.

"Sure!" She led the way, crab-shuffling toward the couch. They practically fell upon it, his back against the armrest. They managed it without breaking their embrace.

From the kitchen, the tic, toc, tic, toc of the pendulum counted their five minutes.

"Maybe we can do something with Lyza tomorrow?" He suggested.

"Sure."

The light in the room dimmed as the sun outside hid behind some clouds. He took one arm away from her torso and began sifting through her hair.

She began to purr, relishing in the shivers that barely trickled down her back. For a moment, she wondered if this was new. Were these feelings new because of his new power, that came with his understanding of love; or, were these feelings new because she had not felt them for a while, and she was caught in an illusion?

She was content with either one.

He did not really count five minutes. In fact, he may have even dozed off for a bit. But he felt like they had been quiet for some time; his hand felt a bit stiff. The motion he used to sift through her hair must be using the same muscles that bubbled in countless dots on a Scantron.

The dull ache behind his eyes pulsed as the room brightened. He winced again, for the same reason he had when she patted his head.

"H--Hey, um...?"

She responded with a very relaxed, "Hm?" Her eyes were still closed and she was almost asleep on his chest.

"I think... I'd better get home."

She jerked awake. "Wha--why?"

"I'm just..." He knew she was going to get upset. "I'm just a little tired." It wasn't any kind of excuse, but that's all he could use. He wasn't lying...

She frowned for a moment, and then smiled. Sure, it upset her a little. But she was wiser since they had gotten back from the beach. So when she said, "Okay. But... can I maybe make you a snack?" She was genuine.

Letting her upsets take over wouldn't help either of them. There would be another day, when he wasn't feeling so drained.

"No, I'm okay," he replied, as she lifted off of him. "Thanks, though."

"You sure sound tired," she admitted, and sat beside him on the couch. "Call me when you get home, so I know you made it okay."

He got up. "I will. I'm probably just going to fall asleep," he stated, and emphasized it with a yawn.

She went to grab his shoes and backpack for him. There was actually a moment where he had to tie the laces, since his new shoes actually had them, and then he took his proffered backpack.

"Don't forget to call," she reminded, and she was given a half-agitated nod. "Don't give me any lip," she teased.

"As long as you're wearing pants, this time."

Then, abruptly, before he opened the door, he kissed her muzzle. It was a brief kiss, and afterward he smiled slyly. "Dat da 'lip' you was talkin' 'bout?"

She blushed. "Bad boy," she teased, and he punched the latch with his thumb.

After he left, she realized she had forgotten to write the code down for him. But, when she went to the window, the gate was closing.

Even if he was tired, he was still as attentive as always. At least she could have confidence he passed the exam. She'd ask him about it later.

Shutting the curtain, she went to the alarm. But it was strange, there was a yellow light on it instead of the usual green. It gave no indication of what that meant; the screen was blank. She tried pushing a button or two, but there was no response.

Her mom would be home in a few hours. Besides, the alarm was only a few weeks old. It wasn't like this would be the first time she was home alone without it on.

The house was so quiet. She went to the table beside the couch and snatched up the remote. The news was on. She switched it over to cartoons. But, she decided, after listening to the show for a whole fifteen seconds, that she liked the quiet better.

Her ankles popped a few times as she went toward her room. She held her hand on the knob, but then paused.

She didn't want to go in.

Something about being cooped up in her room bothered her. Maybe it was all the studying she had done the past week. All Ket probably wanted to do was go to his room and lie down; she felt the exact opposite. She decided she wanted to avoid her room at all cost.

Letting go of the knob, she went back into the kitchen. She felt like making herself a snack. In the cabinet, she pulled out an Insta-Mac. They were running low. Before she did anything else, she went to the grocery list and made sure to write it down.

The grocery list looked... blurry. She squinted, but the letters were still jumbled. She shook her head, figuring it was just her dyslexia acting up from having to read all those tests over the week.

She still needed a stool to get to the microwave. She felt so short. She punched in the time, and hit start. The microwave hummed to life, and she watched the cup of macaroni spin. It was off-center, so it sort of went on a bit of a Merry-Go-Round path.

She went to the table to wait. Even after it was done, it would need to sit for a few minutes. Yesterday's mail was sprawled about. She picked up a catalog. She wasn't sure what it was, but there was a pretty Corgi-woman in a tennis-outfit on the cover.

Leafing through the catalog, she became a little self-conscious. It was full of pictures of women in swimsuits, but then there was a section for underwear.

The microwave beeped.

She set the catalog down, trying to settle the butterflies in her stomach. She remembered that she had a new dress she still had to wear. A bit of a pang hit her gut; did she look as pretty as a woman in a magazine?

Well, of course not. She was just a kid. But if they mailed you this kind of stuff, did Ket's mom get it? What if Ket saw one of these?

Pushing down the worry and agitation that bubbled in her stomach, she decided to go the computer. Wikipedia was getting boring, but maybe a couple games of solitaire would occupy her while her snack cooled. She hopped in the chair and lifted it up, but when she wiggled the mouse the computer didn't turn on. She looked at the tower, and saw its light was still orange.

She clicked the mouse and hit a few keys on the keyboard. Nothing. Okay, well usually if she hit the button then the computer would wake up. But she was always a little afraid to do that--she was worried she would accidentally shut it down while her dad still had some homework open.

She pushed the button. The computer whirred, started clicking, and she sat back in the chair. But then, it gave a very loud click, and powered down. She looked at it with concern, ice dropping down her spine. Another thing she'd have to tell her mom about. Were the computer and the alarm connected?

Then, she heard another noise. It sounded like the house adjusting, but it came from the kitchen. Her tummy remembered her snack. It was probably cool enough to slowly eat.

She swiveled in the chair and hopped off, still not heavy enough to push it down. Briskly, she walked back into the kitchen, turning left as soon as she came in.

The microwave was open.

She didn't remember opening it.

She looked at the table--and saw a chihuahua there, slurping down her cup of Insta-Mac.

"What the--!"

Her hands were taken, and her arms pulled outward. Her legs were caught, too, and then her neck was tickled as something brushed across it.

"'Ey babe," the lion's sultry voice spoke.

She was about to scream, but his fist clacked her jaw shut, making her falter, and then clamped it closed.

"Miss m'that much?" He licked her neck again. "Beck! 'Mere, 'old'er muzz'l."

The chihuaua tossed the cup and spoon away, letting them clatter on the tile, and went behind her. She breathed heavily, trying to struggle. But two hands grabbed each of hers, bending them awkwardly, and her legs were trapped between theirs. She tried to look left or right, but couldn't

"Li'this," the lazy voice instructed. The hands clamped about her muzzle, but did not cover her nose and mouth like before. Then she saw him. He stepped in front of her, grinning with glee. Without a word, he leaned in and kissed her on the lips.

She tried to struggle again, but he squeezed her arms.

"Still strugg'in, eh? Still like it. Ready?"

He gripped the collar of her shirt with both hands, and pulled. The light cotton snapped, and began to tear between his fists.

She whimpered, shivering from both the shock and the cool air.

His hands went lower, the sound of her zipper hit her ear.

She closed her eyes and screamed, even if it didn't leave her throat.

Her phone chirped...