The Masked Professor of Storm Valley Page 1: The Clumsy Shell The air in Storm Valley was a wet blanket, thick with the scent of salt, decaying mango, and distant diesel fumes. Inside the Storm Valley University (SVU) Preparatory High School, the air conditioning was struggling, but Professor Chris Faultly didn’t seem to notice the humidity clinging to his cheap, button-down shirt. By day, Chris was a study in controlled awkwardness. His glasses constantly slipped down his nose, his short, impeccably neat hair seemed permanently plastered by nerves, and his lanky, muscular frame was hidden beneath ill-fitting slacks and the kind of tweed blazer one might wear ironically, if Chris Faultly knew irony. He was a ninth-grade literature teacher, and his current class—period six, the worst period—was analyzing Shakespeare's Julius Caesar. "So, class," Chris said, pushing his spectacles up with a quick, nervous motion, "when Brutus says, 'Not that I loved Caesar less...
