Deadly Pink Tickets

My senior year homeroom teacher, Ms. Darling, had a severe case of 'baby-fever.' She insisted on decorating everything in a nauseatingly infantile style.

Even for the National Excellence Exams, the most important test of our lives, she decided to be 'creative.' She printed our admission tickets on bright pink paper and covered them with cartoon stickers.

"Look how pretty the pink is! It's the perfect color for my precious babies," she chirped.

"If you carry these into the hall, you'll definitely be number one. My babies deserve the best."

I knew she was about to ruin everything. In my past life, I had immediately called the Dean to stop her.

The Dean had rushed in, screamed at her, and managed to get us into the exam hall with standard tickets.

Our class performed well. Wesley, my childhood sweetheart, and I even got accepted into the prestigious Ivy Institute.

But on the day the results were released, Ms. Darling climbed onto the school roof, sobbing for the cameras.

"I just wanted my babies to feel happy while taking their exams. Why did she have to snitch on me?"

"I spent so much time picking the perfect shade of pink. I was just trying to help my babies succeed!"

She wiped her eyes with her frilly sleeves, tripped on her long skirt, and fell to her death.

The next day, Wesley led the entire class to kidnap me. They dragged me to a cliff and pushed me off, watching as I broke into pieces on the rocks below.

"Who told you to bully our teacher! We loved those pink tickets!" Wesley had screamed.

When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the moment Ms. Darling pulled out the pink tickets.

This time, I kept my mouth shut.

"Look, babies! I made your admission tickets pink just for you. Isn't it adorable?"

Ms. Darling stood at the front of the classroom, holding a stack of pink papers like they were sacred scrolls. She looked incredibly proud of herself.

The classroom erupted into gasps of excitement.

"It's so cute, Ms. Darling!"

"Pink is so healing. I feel less stressed just looking at it."

A few girls in the front row started clapping, their eyes sparkling with misplaced joy.

The guys didn't say much, but nobody complained.

Ever since Ms. Darling got pregnant, she had gone full 'baby-core.' The classroom was a sea of pink, our class hoodies had cartoon bears on them, and she dressed like she was heading to a toddler's tea party every day.

We were all used to her insanity.

I stared at the stack of pink tickets, and a wave of nausea hit me.

In my last life, these tickets were a death sentence for our futures.

Even though I had called the Dean to intervene, the confusion delayed us for twenty minutes.

Twenty minutes during the most important exam in the country is an eternity.

Some people panicked, others didn't finish their bubble sheets, and the class average plummeted.

Wesley and I only made it to the Ivy Institute because we were naturally gifted. But the terror of that day stayed with me.

And yet, instead of thanking me for saving their skins, they murdered me for it.

I pulled myself out of the memory and decided to let them burn this time.

But Ms. Darling noticed my silence.

"Zinnia Vance!"

She called my name with that high-pitched, sugary voice. "Why aren't you saying anything? Don't you think the pink is beautiful?"

The entire class turned to look at me.

Wesley's gaze was particularly sharp and unfriendly.

"It's great," I said, forcing a fake smile. "Very cute, Ms. Darling."

She nodded happily. "I knew Zinnia had the best taste!"

"Wait, I have a question," the class secretary said hesitantly from the back.

"Aren't these tickets supposed to be printed in black and white? Will the scanners even read pink paper?"

The room went silent for a heartbeat.

Ms. Darling's face fell instantly. Her lip trembled, and her eyes turned red.

"Are you questioning me? I spent hours researching the perfect shade. Do you really think I'd hurt my babies?"

"I didn't mean it like that" the secretary stammered.

"It's a ticket regardless of the color!" Wesley snapped, glaring at the secretary.

"Ms. Darling worked so hard for us. If you can't say thank you, then shut up."

"Exactly! She's so thoughtful."

"Pink is lucky. It's going to help us pass."

I watched the madness unfold and quietly tapped my desk.

The bell rang, signaling it was time to leave for the testing center. Ms. Darling wiped her eyes.

"Okay, babies. It's time to go. Follow me to the bus, and no loud noises. Be good for mommy-teacher."

Everyone grabbed their bags and scrambled out.

They were showing off their tickets, taking selfies for Instagram, and holding the pink paper up to the sunlight.

"It's honestly so pretty."

"Our teacher is the best. The other classes have boring white papers, but ours are special."

"I feel so lucky to be in this class."

I followed them onto the bus and closed my eyes.

Pink, huh?

I wondered if the proctors at the gate would find her 'perfect shade' as charming as they did.

Once everyone was seated, Ms. Darling suddenly walked over to me.

"Zinnia, let me check your ticket one more time, okay?"

Her voice was soft and sweet, but she reached out and snatched the paper from my hand before I could even blink.

The next thing I heard was the sound of paper tearing.

A corner of my ticket was missing.

"Oh no! Mommy-baby didn't mean to do that!"

She covered her mouth with her hands, her eyes wide with fake shock.

I stared at the torn piece of paper on the floor and let out a dry laugh.

Out of thirty-nine tickets, she chose mine to 'check' and just happened to rip it.

The resentment from two lifetimes boiled in my chest, but I kept my voice cold and steady.

"Are you targeting me on purpose, Ms. Darling?"

The bus went dead quiet.

Tears immediately flooded her eyes. "How could you say that? You're hurting my feelings"

"I just wanted to make sure everything was perfect for you"

Before I could tear into her, Wesley stood up from the seat next to me.

"Zinnia, that's enough."

"She said it was an accident. Why are you being such a bitch about it?"

"You're making her cry in front of everyone. When did you become so toxic?"

"Toxic?"

I laughed, a harsh, jagged sound. "Wesley, are you blind or just stupid? There are thirty-nine tickets here. She didn't check anyone else's. She came straight for mine and ripped it."

I didn't give him a chance to interrupt.

"For the past three years, you all thought this class was perfect, didn't you? The decorations, the parties, the events that made every other class jealous?"

"Newsflash: I did all of that!"

"Sophomore year, when she wanted a 'fairytale' theme for the pep rally and told me the day before? I spent the whole night driving to three different counties to find thirty costumes because she forgot to order them."

"Last semester, she forgot to pick up the practice exam packets. I was the one who ran to the office and sorted them while the proctors were already at the door."

The atmosphere in the bus shifted, growing heavy with every word I spoke.

"Every time you bragged about how great this class was, I was the one fixing her messes."

"Every time you thought she was being 'thoughtful,' I was the one doing the actual work."

I stared at Ms. Darling. Her tears were still falling, but her eyes were darting around nervously.

"She's hated me ever since she realized I was the one actually running this class. If it weren't for the finals being so close, she would have fired me as class president months ago."

The silence was deafening.

Wesley stayed quiet for a few seconds, then he actually chuckled.

"Are you done?"

He walked over, grabbed my torn ticket, and looked me in the eye.

"You're so obsessed with the past. It's pathetic."

"You're the class president. Helping the teacher is literally your job."

"Why don't you mention all the times she actually cared about us?"

He pulled his own pink ticket out of his pocket and, without hesitation, ripped a corner off.

"It's just a piece of paper. Who gives a damn?"

"There. Now it's fair. Happy now?"

The bus stayed silent for exactly three seconds.

Then, one by one, the other students started moving.

"He's right. It's not a big deal."

"It's just a corner. It still works."

The guy in front of me took his ticket and ripped the corner off too.

Then the next person. And the next.

The sound of tearing paper filled the bus like a swarm of locusts.

I leaned back in my seat, feeling completely detached. This was beyond insane.

Pink paper and a torn corner.

I couldn't wait to see them try to get past the gate.

Just then, the Principal climbed onto the bus for the final inspection.

As soon as he stepped in, his jaw dropped.

"What the hell is wrong with your admission tickets!"

The Principal marched down the aisle, his face turning a dangerous shade of purple.

"Why are these pink? And why are the edges torn? Rosalie Darling!"

Ms. Darling shrunk back for a second, then puffed out her chest. "Mr. Principal, don't be so grumpy. I just wanted my babies to have a better mood for the test"

"Better mood?"

The Principal looked like he was about to have a stroke. "There are strict regulations for the National Excellence Exams! White paper, black ink, no decorations!"

"These aren't just the wrong color. The anti-counterfeit codes are ripped off! They won't even let them through the front gate!"

Ms. Darling burst into loud, hysterical sobs, collapsing into the aisle.

"Waaaah! You're being mean to me again! I did everything for the students! I spent so much time picking the prettiest pink"

She suddenly looked up, her mascara running down her face, and pointed a finger at me.

"She told you, didn't she? Zinnia snitched! She's been spying on me for you!"

Every head in the bus snapped toward me.

I just leaned back against the window, expressionless.

Wesley was the first to jump to her defense, stepping between the Principal and Ms. Darling.

"Sir, you're overreacting. Do you have any idea how much effort our teacher put into this?"

"Who cares if they're pink? Who cares about a little tear? We like them this way!"

"Yeah! We like them!"

"Show me the rule that says we can't use pink!"

"We're the top class in the district. They wouldn't dare turn us away!"

The shouts of support grew louder. Students were standing up, physically pushing the Principal toward the door.

The Principal was shaking with rage. He checked his watch. The first exam started in less than thirty minutes.

The drive to the testing center was at least twenty minutes. There was no time left to argue.

"Fine! Stay here. I'm going back to the office to print new ones. I'll meet you at the gate," he hissed, turning and jumping off the bus.

As the door slammed shut, the bus erupted in cheers.

"Yes! We won!"

"The old man got scared! Hahaha!"

Ms. Darling stood up, wiped her face, and flashed a smug grin.

Wesley turned around and held up his ticket like a trophy.

"Who needs his boring white papers? We're sticking with the pink. We stand with Ms. Darling!"

"We stand with her!"

"Pink is better! The Principal doesn't know anything about aesthetics."

"We're the elite class. They'll make an exception for us."

He sneered at me, waiting for a reaction.

I didn't give him one. I just felt the crisp, standard black-and-white ticket hidden in my inner jacket pocket.

Let them scream.

The louder they were now, the harder they'd fall.

The bus pulled up to the testing center. A woman in a strict proctor's uniform climbed aboard.

"Class 12-A? I'm the head proctor. Have your tickets ready for inspection before you exit the bus."

Ms. Darling practically skipped over to her, her voice dripping with fake sweetness.

"Hello! Look at our tickets. Aren't they gorgeous? I printed them in pink for my precious babies"

She grabbed Wesley's ticket and shoved it in the proctor's face.

The proctor took it, and her eyebrows shot up to her hairline.

"These are invalid."

"National exam regulations require white paper and black ink. No stickers, no colors."

"This is pink, covered in stickers, and the security code is missing from the corner."

Ms. Darling blinked innocently. "But it was a gift from my heart"

Wesley added mockingly, "We prefer pink. What are you going to do? Ban us from the most important test of our lives over a color?"

The proctor looked at him with cold, dead eyes.

"Yes. That is exactly what I'm going to do."

"I'll say this once. These tickets are illegal. If you try to enter the gate or continue to disrupt the process, I will call the police immediately."