CHAPTER 3 – Voices Against the System

  Principal Evelyn Feinstein’s office, with its meticulously framed awards, motivational posters, and the faint lemon scent of furniture polish, might have seemed warm or inspiring at first gnce. But in this moment, there was nothing warm about it. The air between the desk and the two siblings who stood before her was thick with tension.

  Behind the desk sat Principal Feinstein, her sharp blue eyes watching Chris and Ruby Parsons like a hawk stalking its prey. A middle-aged, no-nonsense educator who prided herself on keeping the chaos of over a thousand students tightly managed, Feinstein was not often faced with a challenge she couldn't crack down on. But the Parsons siblings were proving tricky.

  Chris, standing tall and composed, was doing his best to appear calm despite the knot forming in his stomach. Ruby, predictably, had no such hesitation. Her fiery disposition shone through in her slight grin as she half-slouched, arms crossed, clearly ready to spar verbally. The smirk twitching on her face practically dared Feinstein to y into them.

  The silence broke, not like gss shattering, but like a slow, distant rumble—Feinstein's voice, low and tight with controlled irritation.

  “Do you two have even the faintest idea,” she began, leaning forward slightly, “how much trouble you have caused today?”

  Her tone was sharp, her movements calcuted. Her finger rose to emphasize each point:

  “Inciting dissent in our assembly. Mocking our national anthem. Demanding radical changes to society. What were you thinking?”

  Ruby leaned back in her chair and gnced upward as though thoughtfully weighing her options. Then she shrugged.

  “Honestly? We were thinking the status quo stinks and needs, you know, a serious overhaul.”

  Chris suppressed a groan. While he respected Ruby’s fearlessness, this did not help to de-escate the situation. Principal Feinstein, meanwhile, looked as though she'd just bitten into a lemon.

  With a loud THUD, Feinstein smmed her palm on the desk, startling both siblings—though Ruby recovered quickly with a defiant eyebrow arch.

  “Ruby Parsons!”

  Feinstein barked, her voice cutting like a whip.

  “That kind of talk will NOT stand in this school!”

  Chris stepped forward instinctively, his calm demeanor working to smooth out the tension Ruby was actively fanning.

  "Principal Feinstein," he began evenly, pressing his palms together in front of him,

  “Please know that our intent wasn’t to cause disruption or insult anyone. Ruby might not phrase it this way, but what she means is that what we said today… well, it needed to be said. There are bigger cracks in the system than anybody wants to admit and ignoring them won’t make things better.”

  Ruby, undeterred, jumped in.

  “Right! Chris and I can see this stuff pin as day. It’s not like all this is subtle anymore. Just hop on Wi-Fi and boom—there's your proof. You don’t even have to pass eighth-grade social studies to figure out how broken things are!”

  Principal Feinstein let out an exasperated sigh and pced her hands on the desk as if grounding herself. When she spoke again, her voice was softer but still firm.

  “You two are children,” she said, carefully emphasizing the word.

  “Chris, you haven’t even started high school yet. And Ruby, you’re not even ten. The changes you're talking about have brought down grown adults—experienced leaders. Many of them ended up arrested, some worse off. Is that what you want? Do you want to throw your lives away—on your st day of school, no less?”

  Chris met Ruby’s gaze, and for a moment, both saw the concern in Feinstein’s eyes. It wasn’t anger now—it was frustration and, beneath that, just a twinge of genuine worry. Ruby’s smirk wavered ever so slightly as she processed the weight of the principal’s question. Chris was the first to speak.

  “Principal Feinstein,” he replied, his calm voice tinged with determination.

  “Of course, that’s not what we want. We don’t intend to die or get arrested. But at the same time… if we don't start talking about these things now, if we choose to just exist peacefully within this system without challenging it, then aren’t we already throwing our lives away?”

  Ruby followed his lead, her voice steady for once.

  “Yeah—what’s the point of learning, if we’re just fed into the same broken machine? We sit in school for hours every day, most of our lives, soaking up everything about how this world works. And know what we get told? That what exists now is the only thing that’s possible.”

  She leaned forward slightly.

  “Well, that’s a lie. Learning should be about improving the way things are—not just accepting it."

  Principal Feinstein rubbed her temples, as if these two idealistic siblings were giving her a stress headache. Yet, a flicker of conflict ran across her face. Of course, she had seen broken systems within her years as an educator. But the realities these kids wanted to challenge weren’t going to colpse from a couple of school speeches. Her voice dropped a notch in tone, softer but serious.

  "It’s... admirable," she admitted slowly, choosing her words carefully, “that you care about these issues. But the world is complicated and dangerous. It's not as easy to fix as you think."

  “The fact that it’s complicated is exactly why it needs fixing,” Chris pointed out quietly.

  His tone was polite but firm enough to make Ruby grin.

  “Exactly," Ruby chimed in, gesturing dramatically like an actor in a py.

  "All revolutions start small, right? They’re like pebbles in a pond. Toss us in, and suddenly—ripples."

  She spread her arms wide as if conjuring imaginary ripples on an invisible body of water.

  Principal Feinstein rolled her eyes, muttering something under her breath about "idealists" as she gnced at the clock. The cng of the school bell rang, signaling the end of the period.

  “Right.” She waved her hand toward the door.

  “That’s enough. Go to your next css. NOW.”

  Chris nodded politely.

  “Thank you for hearing us out, Principal Feinstein.”

  Ruby, however, wasn’t about to leave without one st verbal jab. She lingered in the doorway just long enough to smirk and say pyfully,

  “Bet it’s killing you that detention’s off the table since it’s the st day of school, huh?”

  Principal Feinstein’s face reddened, and she shot Ruby a sharp gre, muttering,

  “Just GO—now.”

  With that, Chris gently grabbed Ruby’s arm and pulled her out of the office, shaking his head.

  The hallways were alive with the energy of hundreds of students spilling out of cssrooms. The buzz was electric, fueled by the anticipation of the summer freedom that y just ahead. Chris and Ruby threaded through clusters of chatting cssmates, a few of whom shot knowing gnces their way.

  “Hey, are you the guys who changed the anthem?” a nerdy-looking seventh grader called out, giving them a quick thumbs-up before being dragged away by his friend.

  “You caused some chaos today,” a slightly annoyed eighth grader muttered as she passed.

  Ruby beamed at this.

  “Chaos means progress,” Ruby murmured to Chris, who sighed but couldn’t hide a slight smirk.

  In the corner of the hall, a small group of younger students had gathered by the lockers. Eight-year-old Candy Zimmerman, with her expressive freckled face, was holding court with her friends, standing out with her ginger hair and fiery personality.

  “I’m telling you,” Candy said animatedly, “Chris and Ruby Parsons are seriously onto something. That wasn’t just a performance—they’re starting something big! They’re saying what we ALL feel but are too scared to say out loud. This is... This is the start of change!”

  Beside her stood Bethany Barrett, a cautious, soft-spoken blonde who frowned.

  “I don’t know, Candy. They're kind of... odd. I mean, changing the anthem? That’s just... weird. Who’s going to take them seriously?”

  Ruby overheard this and froze mid-step, her fists clenched.

  “Let me at her,” she hissed to Chris in a whisper.

  “I’ll rearrange her naive little notions of weird.”

  Chris gently held her back.

  “She’s wrong, but she’s not the enemy, Ruby. Pick your fights.”

  Meanwhile, Candy’s face twisted in disbelief.

  “Weird? Excuse me, weird is what people call you when they don’t understand that you’re smarter than them. Ever heard of Einstein? Galileo? All weirdos. History is made by people who don’t care about blending in.”

  Nine-year-old Scott McQueen, a nky boy with dark skin and an exaggeratedly skeptical expression, snorted.

  “Or maybe crazy. Changing the anthem? That’s nuts.”

  Candy crossed her arms.

  “Maybe you think they’re crazy because you’re too basic to handle new ideas, Scott."

  Scott puffed up defensively.

  “Basic? I got a C-plus in math this year!”

  Ruby whispered to Chris, “Sounds like Scott here’s got a bright future in mediocrity.”

  Finally, Candy spun on her heel and stomped toward Ruby and Chris. Spotting them, her face lit up.

  “You two!” she excimed.

  “That was AMAZING. For real. I mean, forget Scott and Bethany—they wouldn’t recognize a good idea if it hit them in the face.”

  Chris smiled modestly.

  “Thanks, Candy. That means a lot coming from someone who gets it.”

  Ruby grinned.

  “You’ve got guts, Zimmerman. I like that.”

  Candy’s sharp eyes gleamed with excitement.

  “You should come over to meet my parents. They’d love you—LOVE you. They’re super into this kind of stuff, like living mathematics and changing the system.”

  Chris hesitated.

  “We’d have to check with our parents, but that sounds cool.”

  “I’ll ask my mom about dinner!” Candy grinned.

  “Meet me by the gates after school if you can come!”

  As Candy bolted down the hallway, Ruby turned to Chris, her energy bubbling over.

  “Hear that?” she said with a smirk.

  “Those ripples? They’re starting.”

  Chris shook his head with a ugh but couldn’t help feeling, deep down, that maybe she was right.