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[b][u]L[/u]ocation:[/b] The Peregrine Hangout area
[b][u]I[/u]nteracting With:[/b] Nobody[hr][hr][/center]

Wesley Gray sucked the nicotine from the cigarette, pulling the smoke and mint into her lungs and flaming her innards with a need for [i]more[/i]. Wes had a love-hate relationship with cigarettes – because, momentarily, [i]just momentarily[/i], she could feel her anxiety being burned away. Then, ironically like smoke, it slipped from her grasp and left her wanting [i]more[/i]. Though many probably wouldn’t believe her, smoking was a habit she picked up recently – over the summer, in fact.

It wasn’t that important – her smoking. Everyone already thought she did it.

There’s no importance of knowing Wesley Gray smoked – but, rather, why she was smoking [i]now[/i]. 

Wes reluctantly threw her cigarette to the floor, stomping a scuffed shoe against it until half of it was ashes – she bought the shoes at a muggle mall and she was quite fond of them, but she felt no remorse or regret when the cigarette waste clung to the sole. The person ahead of her in the line she impatiently waited in ducked and she followed suit, pushing her way into the backseat of The Peregrine – Salem Witches’ Institute’s infamous, and rather dangerous, form of transportation. The car looked just as gross as it did the year before – thank god this was the second to last time she’d have to get into the ugly ass thing. Wes wasted no time clomping down the stairs of The Peregrine Hotel, she didn’t bother to stop by her assigned room – why bother, the Peregrine would be arriving in Maine in only a couple of hours.

Students milled around the area at the bottom of the hotel like usual – and, like most last days aboard King Tutt, it was buzzing with activity. Wes shouldered her bag and smiled awkwardly at someone she vaguely knew – blonde hair, green eyes, short stature – as she stumbled towards the couches. A brunet boy bumped into her shoulder, excitedly shouting “Brrrrt!” towards his friends in way of greeting. The seventh-year girl scowled at the touch, but chose not to fetch him by the back of his ugly ass shirt in favor of flopping down on the couch.

Despite it being 3:00 PM, the couches were nearly clear – the gambling session has started. And that’s why Wes was there, really, was for the gambling. Gambling wasn’t really a big part of the unofficially slotted time for such activities – it was mostly a time that the older students gathered together to talk in near vicinity of each other, even if they weren’t talking [i]to[/i] each other, and then there was the occasional bet thrown over everybody’s heads. Most people came, even if they weren’t troublemakers or gamblers – Wes doesn’t remember when it became a [i]thing[/i] that happened, but it did, and she waited impatiently for the small crowd that’d show.