Gregory Eddie, who had been pretending to grade papers while actually organizing his pens by ink viscosity, looked up slowly. “Janine. That’s not how the district defines ‘gifted.’”

“I know,” Janine said. “But for one week? It actually worked.”

Gregory leaned toward her. “She just made up a whole program.”

Janine’s eyes lit up. “That’s exactly what I’m saying!”

“Ladies, gentlemen, Gregory,” Ava announced. “BD5 is not a suggestion. It’s a vibe. And this week’s BD5 assignment? Every teacher has to identify one ‘hidden genius’ in their class. Not the smart kid. The weird kid. The one who eats glue but also draws perfect geometric dragons.”

“The district also defined ‘adequate ventilation’ as one working fan for six classrooms,” said Melissa Schemmenti, biting into a powdered donut. “Their definitions mean less than nothing.”

Break room, after school. Fluorescent lights hum. A half-empty box of discount donuts sits on the table.