I shove the thoughts to the side as I step into the shower, allowing myself to relax entirely. Now that the first semester has gone without a hitch, I’ve a few weeks of rest before I need to start preparing for finals. Hot water splashes all over my body, and the bathroom fills with steam. It takes me an hour to do my entire body and hair routine, before I wrap myself in a fluffy towel, and start to get ready for the day.
On the days when we don’t have lectures or exams, we’re free to wear whatever we want. I opt for a pair of high-waisted, dress pants. They’re black, and for a little pop of color, I add a baby pink blouse. I tuck it into my pants, add a belt, and then my gold accessories. I keep my make-up simple but cute, and glance at myself in the mirror as I finish curling the last strand of my hair. I run my fingers through it, loosening the curls, watching as my hair falls right below my elbows. It’s in dire need of a cut, I make a mental note to make an appointment for when I next go home.
My eyes flick to the side of my dresser that holds my collection of bows. It ranges from softer, pink colors to every shade of the rainbow. I think I was eight when my mother got me my first bow, and they stuck with me. Yes, it might seem childish to wear one at myage, but I don’t care. I like them, and they make me look cute.
I pull two strands of my hair and clip them behind with the bow. I add some finishing touches — my perfume, a pair of pink heels, and my handbag before I stroll out of the dorm, and walk out of the building.
The coldness doesn’t bother me much, the walk to the main building is less than five minutes. A couple of people are scattered around the premises, having their morning coffee outside, smoking, and chatting at the tables. The cafeteria is on the first floor, and it’s large enough to fit the entirety of the school. My eyes skim around until I spot the person I’ve been looking for — Grace. Avalon often skips breakfast, so Grace’s been one of my breakfast buddies.
“Hey,” I sit across from her, slumping the bag on the empty chair next to me. “How did you do on the exams?”
Grace rolls her eyes. “Good morning to you, too.”
“Good morning,” I smile sheepishly. “How did you sleep?”
Grace pokes around her plate, just as I’m being brought my own. I thank the person bringing it, then start to eat. Today’s menu is one of my favorites — an omelette filled with cheese, bacon, and a lot of tomatoes. I could drown in tomatoes. There’s also a slice of freshly prepared tiramisu for dessert, and I barely hold myself back from inhaling it all at once.
“Easy there,” Grace hums, her black hair falling over her face. She pushes it away and tucks it behind her ear, and leans in. “Are you that excited to see the board?”
I nod, swallowing down the bite of food. “Of course. I didn’t work my ass off for no reason.”
“We already know that you’re either first or second spot, depending on how well Soren did.”
I groan. “Can you please not mention the bastard’s name in mypresence?”
Grace purses her lips. “How about we give him a code-name?”
“Why?” I snort.
“That way, we don’t have to sneak around when talking shit about him.”
Grace is correct. Soren has a group of friends he’s been with since middle school, and the four of them seem to be fucking everywhere all the damn time. I can’t even count how many times one of his friends has overheard me talking shit, and it came back to bite me in the ass.
“Any ideas?”
“How about…” Grace pauses. “Micro?”
I blink. “What?”
“Micro as in micro-penis.”
I bark out a laugh, covering my mouth, trying to stifle the sounds. “I hate, and trust me when I say I absolutely fucking hate to defend the motherfucker, but if the rumors of him are correct, he’s far from being… uh… ungifted?”
“That’s the whole point,” Grace shrugs. “He won’t know it’s about him.”
“Fine, fine.”
“Anyway,” Grace changes the topic. “Did you hear the rumors?”
I nod. “Avalon told me.”
“Do you think it’s true?”
I lift a shoulder. “It definitely could be. I mean, it’s Soren. There’s only a handful of girls he hasn’t been with from the academy, so he’s bored.”
Grace grimaces. “Which professor do you think it is?”
“Well, either Ms. Ellie, or Ms. Dana. Ellie’s a fresh graduate, andDana’s in her early thirties. All other professors are… what, in their fifties?”
