It’s that time of the year—plague season.
All around my school are pallid faces, high fevers, and nauseous stomachs. It seems to have hit especially hard this year. Nearly half of the seventh grade teachers are out, as well as a quarter of the students. The principal had the flu last week. Even I, with my supercharged immune system, fell ill to a stomach virus over the weekend that had me hurling from morning to night, and not eating for another full day.
See, schools are like gigantic petri dishes, full of agar and ready to incubate disease, except we are the medium. The rate at which students get sick is pretty incredible, dominos falling from class to class, up and down stairs, and through the halls. It’s pretty much like Outbreak without all the dying and hazmat suits.
The thing to remember is this: when a student says he feels sick, just hand him the trashcan and send him up to the nurse.