10. E2 - Scene 4
INT. ISSAC’S CLASSROOM – DAY
Issac is sitting at his desk, the students seated before him have their heads bent over a pop quiz. They’re set up in groups of four at black-topped lab tables. Issac fiddles with his phone in his lap, worrying his bottom lip.
Chicken or turkey? What the hell? And that fucking message this morning. Who the fuck was he?
Issac brings one hand up to rub at his nose and forehead, disguising the gesture so that it looks like he’s pushing his hair out of his face. Keeping an eye on his students, a hint of blue mist forms at his palm. He sighs as his palm and fingers brush against the bruising.
But fuck. What the hell am I going to do? Some smartass, douche-canoodle knows who I am and where I live.
Issac sighs and drops his hand, putting his phone away and getting to his feet. One of his students has their hand raised. He walks over bends down by the student’s spot on the four people lab table.