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[b]"For real."[/b]

To say that nobody reacted was a bit of an overstatement. Someone certainly reacted. And on the part of the girl on the roof, that reaction came in the form of slow applause, one that was neither ironic nor mocking, but one that seemed to hold a certain tinge of condescension. Like an older sibling, perhaps, slapping their hands together when their younger sister and her equally young friends showed off some double dutch skipping. Verity was impressed. It was fun to see that Top 15 Science Track could do cryptic messages too! And the origami had been hers? Certainly, there was some depth to her after all!

And as for the whole tradition of jumping into the waters for exam luck...

She tipped the remaining contents of her bag of chips into her mouth, wiped the powder and crumbs off the corner of her mouth, and then, in a very cat-like fashion, licked clean the back of her hand. It was in a very human fashion afterwards that she crushed the plastic bag into a ball before stuffing it into the pockets of her sweatpants. Shallow waters, but she was pretty light. Distance from dockhouse to water was doable too. She'd confirmed that earlier. And while she had been 70-30 on whether or not Sofia was going to show, she was 100-0 on whether or not water was going to be involved.

[b]"Exam luck."[/b]

Verity laughed. Almost derisively.

Then, she began to strip, flinging her clothes down onto the boardwalk haphazardly. If anyone was buried beneath it, well, it wasn't as if she was carrying rocks in her pockets or anything.

[b]"Like penguins, Sofia?"[/b]

Gooseflesh rose from pale skin that was awash in the afterglow, the sting of the sea breeze felt ever more keenly now that Verity was in nothing more than her swimsuit, a plain yellow bikini that complemented her figure only in that her body itself was plain and non-descript, like a eraser right out the box.

The girl was certainly nothing to look at.

But the way she stood, standing on the slant of the dockhouse roof, one foot raised as she rolled the digits of her toes, both hands back to pull her hair into a ponytail, her forehead gleaming the magenta hues of twilight, perhaps one would get a strange feeling.

Whether weather fair or foul, whether winter or summer, whether traditions or superstition, whether in solitude or in company, Verity Oxenbridge had always intended on a swim.