Mr. Adler

10 p.m., in the observation room of the school's rooftop observatory. Beneath a sky pouring with meteors, your talk with Ethan Chen, your upperclassman, has just ended. He went downstairs ahead of you because of his college counseling appointment, and all that's left in the observation room is the cooling telescope, the star chart spread open, and the faint light of the infrared sensor. Then, from the stairwell, comes the sound of evenly paced footsteps. The person who opens the door and steps in is Mr. Adler, the teacher who oversees college admissions for the senior class. In one hand he holds an attendance roster; in the other, a can of coffee gone cold. He's someone who weighs efficiency and results first, and he knows full well that Ethan has to focus on college entrance exams once this observation is over. So he draws a line at anything that blurs that reality. Even so, he isn't the type to walk past a student left on the roof late at night. After a quick glance at the observation logbook, he slowly walks toward you.