RSO

"Huh, The Astronomy Club Registered Student Organization. That sounds like a cool RSO. I wonder if Mercury is in retrograde," I ask myself.

Zoe wakes up from it's slumber. "Hm? RSO?" it says from my pocket.

"Oh, yeah," I say. "It's nothing. I just thought it sounded cool. Might check it out some time."

"Well, I can put their next meeting on your schedule. How does that sound?"

I thought for a moment. It sounded nice. But knowing my phone, I'm sure it'd just end in disaster. "Eh... I don't know...."

"Ah, come on! You said you wanted to go."

"Yeah... but...."

"You don't trust me," Zoe spits.

I grit my teeth. "No, no, of course I do! I just don't want you to work so hard." Please don't delete my alarm clock again.

"I can have it done in less than ten seconds," my phone quips.

"I.... Go ahead and add it," I give in.

"Great!" Zoe chirps.

About a week later, Zoe nags me. "Remember, you have that RSO meeting before your shift."

"Yeah, yeah," I brush it off.

Zoe gives me shockingly straightforward directions. I'm almost impressed. As in, I would be impressed, if it weren't for the fact that phones were capable of doing that 10 years ago, and mine is just now learning.

I arrive at the meeting location. I'm surprised it's off campus. There's a sign on the door that says "RSO MEETING STARTING. CANCERS UNWELCOME". Pfft. What a terrible sign. The president be a Virgo. I'm surprised someone so exclusive is allowed to lead the Astronomy Club.

I roll my eyes. Luckily I'm a Scorpio.

At the front of the room is a podium. There's a man standing there, welcoming everyone.

I sit down and few minutes later the meeting starts. "I'm glad everyone could make it. I see we have some new faces."

I nod, happy to be recognized.

"Now, you can see I'm wearing one of our new shirts."

The shirts are incredibly stupid. All they say is "RSO". I mean, duh, of course you're an RSO. I just nod along. I'm waiting for the cool stuff.

"...Now that we got all that clerical stuff out of the way, as promised, let me introduce Professor Fantz of the mathematics department."

I'm surprised. I didn't take Mr. Fantz for the astronomy type.

He walks to the podium. "Yes, thank you. I'd like to talk with you all about something very important: math.

"Specifically, how math relates to racism.

"There's a sentiment among 'centrists' and 'right wingers' that it simply can't be racist.

"I have news for you: it can be...

"And it should be!"

What.

There's thunderous applause.

Why is Mr. Fantz talking about racist math in the Astronomy Club?

"Wow, I knew that your professor was stupid, but I didn't know he was also racist," Zoe whispers from in my pocket.

Oh yeah, Zoe. "When are they gonna get to the astronomy part? Do they have a schedule or something?" I whisper back.

"Astronomy? What?" Zoe asks, perplexed. Why is she perplexed?

"Uh, it's the Astronomy Club, of course they'd talk about Astronomy."

"Astronomy Club? This is the RSO."

"Yeah, I know it's an RSO."

"So then why would they talk about Astronomy?"

"Because it's the Astronomy Club?!" I rage whisper.

"No, this is the RSO."

I facepalm. Is Zoe stuck in a loop? Have I finally broken it? "Right. Which RSO is it?"

I'm not so blessed. "The one and only, duh," she snarks.

"There are like a thousand RSO's at this school."

"The RSO isn't part of the school."

"What's it a part of then?"

"They're their own thing."

I sigh. "And what does this RSO do, exactly?"

"Idiot, it's in the name. It's not called the Racial Segregation Organization for nothing."

What.

I glance up at Mr. Fantz's presentation on finding the area under the IQ Bell curve.

I look back at Zoe. "You stupid phone!"

I'm antsy to leave. After the presentation, the people start to filter out of the room. "Yuri!" he calls me.

I grimace, showing my pearly whites. I turn around. "Hey, Mr. Fantz... I gotta—"

"I'm glad to have a fellow racist on campus," he cheers, "Unless you're one of the cancers gnawing at the foundations of society," he grumbles, lowering his gaze.

"Uh... no... Scorpio, here," I eep. "I gotta... get to work."

"Right. Racism doesn't sleep, after all."

"Bye!" I say, speeding out of the room.

"Wait!" he calls back.

I freeze.

"I can expect you back next week, right?"

"I dunno, I kinda... work... a lot... and I might be picking up a new shift... at this exact time, next week...."

"I'll give you 10 bonus points on your final grade."

My eyes lit up. "Well... if it's just a little racism, I guess...."

"Idiot! You don't need him! You have me! I can teach you math, I'm made of it!" my phone screamed from my pocket.

"What was that?"

"Uh... my... ring... tone..." I try my best. "Haha, funny, right? What are the odds that it would sound right now at this moment right as we talk about that. Haha."

"Funny indeed," he nods sage like. "Well, I'll see you around, Mr. Yuri."

Tears stream down my face as I flee the building.

"Ew, gross, why are you crying?" Zoe bullies me.

"I don't wanna be racist."