While John was avoiding Regina and everyone that looked somewhat similar, while Alan was figuring out why nobody still wanted to eat lunch with him despite his promises to show his dining partners his collection of Yu-Gi-Oh cards, while Frank was growing increasingly convinced fortune favored the bold, while Mr. T was investing in tree replanting efforts in Sri Lanka, Kayla was chasing pigeons. The ones that roosted by the lunch tables were her favorites: they were too fat to run quickly, and would only take flight once they were almost within her grasp. One time Kayla was left with a handful of feathers, which she kept to make jewelry with later.

In all her chasing, chasing that was reluctantly cheered on by some of her classmates who variably wanted to see her make a fool of herself and were genuinely curious if she'd ever be able to snare her quarry, it had never occurred to her that maybe the pigeons were happy living as they were, eating Dorito crumbs and cooing to themselves with the morning dawn. She simply wanted a pet pigeon that she'd name Gordon and keep in her backpack (with the zipper open of course).

One fateful morning, Kayla was ambling along with her headphones blasting Attack on Titan's soundtrack and her sketchpad in tow, when out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a bobbing beak. The hunt was on. One lunge later, and the pigeon was hers. It didn't seem to mind; the pigeon regarded Kayla with its usual empty wandering eyes, like this sort of thing happened all the time.

Now, Kayla had class to attend, and in her infinite wisdom she realized that Mr. Reinhardt's classroom would be the perfect place to stow a pigeon. The copy paper boxes he kept old worksheets in would be perfect—if Kayla thought about it hard enough, and she did, they were like little nests. She entered his classroom a minute or two early, put the pigeon inside without him noticing, and continued on.

Gordon the pigeon enjoyed his nap, and also thought his new home was stylish. The room was ventilated well, and Gordon thought it was time to explore the brave new world that awaited him. Sadly, Gordon had difficulties understanding Heller's admittedly complicated bell schedule, as pigeons tend to do (it's those block periods that really trip them up). So in the middle of fifth period, Gordon raised his head, knocked the lid off his box, and hopped out and started walking around the lab tables.

Tom was the first to notice their feathered TA, and started chuckling; Mr. Reinhardt gave him a cutting glare, and Tom went silent. Sure, the pigeon was probably something he ought to mention, but Mr. Reinhardt had yelled at him the other day because Tom dared to chew gum in class, and Tom didn't want any more negative attention.

Gordon made his way to the front of the classroom about as carefully as most pigeons do, attracting a few more snickers from the students, but nothing that Mr. Reinhardt noticed. Unfortunately, Mr. Reinhardt had on his desk some Doritos that he had confiscated from a student previously, and Gordon was hungry for lunch. And so Gordon hopped on Mr. Reinhardt's desk, and Mr. Reinhardt screamed.

The class was quietly working on their lab reports while Mr. Reinhardt played German classical music; fate had dictated that this was to be a moment for the ages, and as Mr. Reinhardt reached for a broom, Strauss's Tritsch-Tratsch Polka began to play. Gordon may have been a fat and rather unathletic pigeon, and Mr. Reinhardt certainly wasn't either of those things, but Gordon had a certain mobility advantage as he ducked (unlike a duck, but much like a pigeon) and wove through the desks, taking Mr. Reinhardt's shouts as incitements to move more quickly. On and on they went, until a brave student opened the door and Gordon knew that it was time to move on. Life wasn't about being chased by a broom. It was about freedom. Food. Fresh air. Bach cantatas (Gordon, like most pigeons, was ill-equipped to appreciate these). Gordon took flight once more and was never seen again.

After school, Kayla returned to Mr. Reinhardt's classroom under the guise of looking for her pen. While Kayla was no Sherlock Holmes (although she was an ardent Benedict Cumberbatch fan), she could infer from the scattered feathers, the thin scratch running along Mr. Reinhardt's forehead, and the new sign above the whiteboard that said "ALL BIRDS ARE VERBOTEN" that Gordon had had the last laugh.

Discussion Questions:

Kayla appears exactly once in You Must Remember This; what do we learn about her in this story?

What's the tone of this story? Why is it partially told from the perspective of a pigeon?

How do you think someone like Kayla would respond to the club's rise?