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As Sofia left the room, she saw someone, waiting right outside.

A flimsy, short girl, pale as can be, the fluorescent lighting of the hallways casting a dull sheen on her large forehead. Her eyes, once transfixed upon the gap between the door and the doorway, turned up to the Top 15 Sciences track student. It was a steady, focused gaze, darting from the accessories to the wristbands to the balled-up fist that held up crumpled notes to the redness of her ears to the growing confusion, apprehension, building up as wrinkles upon the tastefully-applied makeup that she never went without.

[i]“Um, you m-”[/i]

[b]“Oh, don’t mind me.”[/b] The girl broke her gaze immediately afterwards, making a shooing motion. [b]“Carry on as you would. And, mm, good luck. In five years.”[/b]

And with that comment, she turned a one-eighty and strode off. Right towards the window. Right onto the window. Right off the window.

Of course, they were on the first floor, but also, an exit was just ten meters away.

...

It was the 15th of September, and Verity had adjusted well enough. Harbour Academy was, after all, a relatively expensive international school. Competitive as it was, no-nonsense as it was, the school’s approach to academics was such that so long as you passed, you remained. Classes were immensely beneficial, for sure, but when you brought the best, the brightest, and the richest together, even mandatory classes could end up becoming…optional.

After all, a prodigious programmer certainly didn’t need to attend the computer sciences classes his track demanded of him, when he could get much more done on his own time. And would you truly expect the reincarnation of Mozart to sit through music theory classes that covered materials she learned five years ago? Indeed, so long as one continued to compete, so long as one didn’t absolutely fail, there was no problem, in particular, with not showing the greatest enthusiasm in class.

Or, well, with showing up to class at all.

It was the 15th of September, and while other students stressed over the first exam of the school year, Verity was playing with a frog. A paper one. The bell for first classes had rang some time ago, but she was still lying on the hard, wooden floor, enjoying the coolness of it as she rolled from side to side, flicking the frog to and fro. Her room was barren. Minimalistic, if someone wanted to nice about it. A sleeping bag and an air mattress. A desk and a stool. The outlets were plugged with her laptop’s charger and her phone’s charger, and a hanging closet contained all the clothes she cared to keep.

And on the wall opposite of the patio?

A map of Harbour and its surroundings, blown up to encompass nearly the entire face of the wall, from floor to ceiling. Printed piece by piece on A4 paper. Pinned with brass thumbtacks, marked with scribbles in blue ink.

The dockhouse. Evening. And a towel. Swimming? Oh, hazing? Sounded like an experience.

But it was all still in the evening. As for the hours that preceded it…

Verity’s eyes settled on her map once more, tracing the network of roads, the names of buildings, the shifting of elevation and the crisscrossing of blue ink. Wouldn’t be a full-day sort of thing, not when she woke up so late today, but there was an area nearby she’d like to take a peek at.

Mm. Decided then.

She stuffed the frog into her pockets, hopped onto her feet, grabbed her bag, and promptly fucked off.

Out through the window, of course. She didn’t pick a suite with a tree nearby just to [i]not[/i] use it, after all.

...

Afterglow dyed the waters red, the skies still ablaze with the sun’s fall. Up atop the roof of the dockhouse, Verity leaned back against the warmed tiles, tearing open a bag of chips to much on. This high up, the sea looked just that much more expansive, while the breeze that drew inland actually felt like the autumns she was used to. There was the tang of salt working their way into her sinuses, but anything that had to do with smell, sound, or taste was promptly obliterated upon the first bite of Takis. Spices burned her palate, and crunching deafened her ears.

But not enough, it seemed, to drown out a boy’s voice from below.

[i]"This like a prank, or a hazing thing, or did I just miss some event announcement?"[/i]

Shuffling over to the edge, the young lady peered down upon the bobbing heads down on the boardwalk. Some were colorful enough to be instantly recognizable. Others were vague blobs that seemed to fit the parts. Icebreaker group.

Top 15 Sciences Track did this? Huh.

[b]“For real?”[/b]

She popped a couple more dynamite sticks into her mouth and crunched away, continuing to lounge as she watched those below her.