When Liberty started her junior year, using some of her free periods to assist freshman lab sessions seemed like a smart idea. She didn’t need the extra credit, of course, but it was something else to pad out her university applications. Plus, mingling with the underclassmen hopefully wouldn’t hurt her eventual campaign for student council presidency. Drawing closer to the year’s end, she had come to find the bitter, explosive, crimson realisation that it came with his own share of risks.
She was soaking wet, covered from head to toe in sinister patches of red dye, and staggering down the hall. Even her glasses had fallen victim to the experiment-gone-wrong, and the lab’s emergency shower was not enough to save them. At least the fact that it all went down halfway through a class period meant she’d be spared from ridicule, right?
Perhaps not. With a wince, she froze at the sound of approaching footsteps. All she could do was attempt to save face, just in case it was Mr Simpson headed around the corner. “Okay, I--...I honestly have no idea what this looks like, but this is not what it looks like.”