High School AU:- THE LIBRARY

Unlike the majority of the residents of this particular stretch of corridor, Mia manages to retain her dignity, poise, and ability to construct coherent sentences.

"Seriously? A member of the Student Council requests your help in making sheer mockery of every rule governing this educational establishment, and that's what you're taking from this? God, no wonder we're riddled with conspirators."

Mia tilts her head at him, sceptically. "So what you're saying - amidst sedition, shamelessness, pseudo-scientific pontification, etc. - is that people ought not to romanticise... romance?"

Arkady tilts his head oddly at Eva. "Did you now? How fascinating. If you have time, would you mind sending me a copy of your cortex? I'd very much appreciate it."

He turns to Mia. "Oh, we can romanticise romance all we want. It's romanticising love that gets us into trouble. We mistake entirely natural urges for some sort of destiny, driven along by bad romance films and bloody Disney, or, for some of us," he offers a conspiratorial smile to Mia, "loftier virtues. And occasionally that fucks us up. It also stops us from effectively cheating, for that matter."

Mia processes this, frowning. "Nature isn't a convenient panacea that you can invoke to dismiss any kind of nuance. You're not throwing around some kind of revolutionary theory on human interaction here; the kind of talk that reduces human emotion to some catch-all chemical configuration is nothing if not hackneyed."

She's not sure how to comment on the cheating. In fact, she's rather irritated at Arkady forcing her to commit to this subterfuge one way or the other. Particularly given present company.

"Mindless adherence to the rules for their own sake, sir, at least when their purpose is currently redundant, strikes me as backwards in the extreme," rejoins Mia, promptly. "I see no-one other than us in this library. If this happens to change, then we'll gladly keep the noise down."

Frankly, she's almost grateful for the interruption.

Mia suppresses the urge to energetically facepalm. Barely.

Under normal circumstances, she would rather publically invite Max Byrd to prom than talk back to a teacher. Any teacher. But these are no ordinary circumstances - and this is no ordinary teacher. All this Cabal talk has made her reckless. Antsy. Determined to take drastic measures in the face of countless unsettling Student Council-related revelations. In any case, Mister I's bizarrely dedicated vendetta against her is as counter-productive as it is inexplicable, and the time for appropriate classroom conduct - or even run-of-the-mill civility - has almost certainly passed.

Damned if she can tell what kind of game he's playing, anyhow.

"Then write me up," she says - doubtless to the shock/awe and/or utter indifference of all observers. "Be my guest, Mister I. See if you can substantiate it before the headmaster. I'm sure he'd love to hear all about you and your indefensible persecution of a grade-A student."