Rival Roommates

8☁︎︎

Author's note
Someone added this to a list called 'silly bitches that need to update quicker' and I was literally dying for a good half hour. Thea, if you're reading, this 'quick' update is for you <3.
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Valentina
I am officially going to cry. Two months, that's exactly how long I have to find a boyfriend, before my mother boards the plane and starts introducing me to a number of Spanish lads. Since her mission is to get me a boyfriend, I've made it mine to find one just for the two weeks she's here. It has to be serious, but not serious enough that he commits properly, and not too light that he dumps me whilst my mother is still here. He needs to be able to attend family events, only a few I hope, and have enough chemistry to prove that we actually physically enjoy each others company without having to get a bin bag and barf.

I would ask Mason to pretend for me, since I think we know each other well enough to help one another out, but I don't think I'd be able to look at him the same if I've had my tongue down his throat. Since I'm not one to ruin a moderately good friendship, I'd rather search a while longer before I use Mason as a last resort. Anyways, that's only problem number one on my list.

I'm sat on one of those squeaky leather seats outside the principal's office, I was called here last lesson and I know it couldn't be that I've caused trouble, I've only been here for a week. Yet the mere idea of being in trouble makes my hands shake with anxiety, my nerves set alight, I can't afford to make any mistakes and lose my place here. It's been hard enough already. The receptionist at the desk beckons me to enter the office, a different lady from the one at my hall, if I thought that one looked strict this one looks explicitly evil. Her light blonde hair does nothing to lighten out the witchy features of her snarled lip, glaring eyes that passed me dirty looks the moment I walked in here.

Opening the double brass doors, I introduce myself to the headmaster, a petite woman of old age, short bob-cut and large button down cardigan with glasses rested on her head who sat in a leather chair much larger than her, twisting it from side to side. She exuded a much more soft, kinder vibe than the receptionist, and I'm beginning to think they only kept her there to scare students away. Sitting down with both my hands in my lap, I listen patiently as the old lady rambles on about her day today, the weather, and all topics of light, fluffy discussion. I can tell she's trying to get to know her students, which only makes me like her more, especially the way she repeats my name after most sentences, fully acknowledging me.

Finally, she moves on to the subject of my dorm room dilemma, how fraternising to certain extremes was frowned upon, and even though she understands we're 'young and carefree' wants us to basically keep it PG. I agree, and she laughs it off, moving on to my past situation. Then she pulls out my file. My body stills, and I feel my blood run cold, lungs tightening with every breath.
There's nothing in there. She can't know, she doesn't. Breathe.

Her voice echoing in the background eventually grows back to her usual pitch, my mind calming down the thudding pulse trying to break free from my chest. "Are you okay dear? You look pale, do you need some water?" She asks, taking in my state, then rambling on about how important hydration is. I gulp down the water, relaxing when it's coolness runs down my throat, and I sit up in my seat, fixing my uniform.

"Okay, let's go through this sweetie. According to your file, your an exceptional student, passing every class with flying colours."
I breathe out relief. There's nothing in there. She doesn't know.

I smile in gratitude as she continues.
"It seems like we should be the ones thankful that you're attending Elmgreen High. However, there is the slight concern as to the hastiness of your arrival, why you came during the middle of your old school term when you were achieving so high there too."