The lesson drags on like a slow, torturous crawl. The sterile hum of fluorescent lights casts a pale glow over the classroom, highlighting the drab rows of desks and the indifferent expressions of my classmates. Even forever can't be this long. During class, Sam keeps stealing glances at me, his furrowed brow betraying nothing. Not that I care—I don't know him at all, apart from the fact that both our grades are average. I could probably excel if I wanted to, but the higher, or lower, my grades are, the more eyes will be on me, so average is perfect.

Finally, the lesson ends. With a sigh of relief, I extract myself from the monotony and head for the door. The hallway is a dull, featureless corridor, filled with the shuffle of footsteps and the occasional murmur of conversation. I slip into the nearest bathroom stall, seeking refuge from the prying eyes and judgmental whispers that haunt the school halls.

As I sit in the dim silence, the voices of my classmates echo through the thin walls. 

"Oh my god, can you believe it? Louise has never been in love." Jenna's voice is like ice, dripping with disdain as she speaks of my supposed shortcomings. 

"Is that even normal? I mean, we're all sixteen. There has to be someone she likes, right?" Liana's voice chimes in, her words laced with curiosity and disbelief. 

All those girls care about is boys and romance. Sometimes I wish I could be like them, effortlessly blending in with the crowd, instead of feeling like an outsider looking in.

"Maybe she's sick," Lisa's careless remark sends a chill down my spine. Maybe she's right. Maybe there is something wrong with me. The thought lingers in the air like a dark cloud, suffocating and oppressive. The other girls gasp in response.

Normally, I would freak out, however, no one takes Lisa's words seriously... Ever. She rarely even knows what she is saying herself.

"You think?" Jenna doesn't let it go.

Wait, that's not how it normally goes. What if they're not as dumb as they act? Stereotypes are dangerous in this society. They might be smarter than most of us. I'm in trouble.

The last thing I hear is some soft whispering, followed by giggles and the sound of the door opening and closing. They're gone. It's safe to leave the stall now.

I wash my hands and look in the mirror. Someday, I'll be allowed to cut my hair. Someday, I'll get to make my own choices. I just need to hang on a little longer. Just a little bit longer. They can't oppress us like this forever. Someday a rebellion will rise, and we will be freed from generations of stupid oppression.

The school bell rings again. I sigh again and make sure my hands are dry. One more deep breath in before I walk slowly back to the classroom. Two more hours, and then I can go home, lock myself in my room, wear some comfortable clothes, be myself, and breathe.

Dreaming about the day I can finally be me, I enter the classroom and sit behind my desk. Like every other day. Nothing new, except... A little piece of paper between the pages of my book. It is not immediately noticeable, carefully placed so only someone with a keen eye would see it.

Carefully, I open the note. It reads: "You are not the only one."

I look around the classroom, searching for the source of the note. Sam's gaze meets mine, his eyes filled with an unfamiliar warmth. Could it be possible that he's just like me? A not-so-perfect sinner in this perfect society?