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THEY STRODE SILENTLY down the courtyard. The crisp dawn air was invigorating, but Darcy could still feel the warm hum of anticipation flowing through her veins as she realised she was only minutes away from stepping into the line of fire.
⠀⠀⠀ Jude led them inside, up an ornate staircase and down several hallways until they got to a warmly lit common room. Usama Balakrishnan was sitting in a large comfortable looking beanbag, sipping a bottle of green, melded fruit, and looking decidedly curious.
⠀⠀⠀ He definitely didn't look like he had not slept a wink, and Darcy felt a frisson of relief. Somehow, ringing him at one in the morning seemed less terrible if Sam managed to look the same as he always did: gelled back hair, loose cravat with a crooked smile. He was surrounded by a loose circle of lower sixths and Darcy waved at him upon entrance. Conspicuously, he winked at her before continuing his conversation with a warm honey-gold skinned girl with bleached blond hair marcelled into finger waves.
⠀⠀⠀ She was beautiful. Not conventionally attractive like most of the leggy blondes and bright-eyed brunettes that roamed the halls of St. Maxwell. No, her beauty was otherworldly. Like you'd have to unravel time, and search the depths of the earth to find a pearl that held a candle to it. She was a world's best kept secret, for she had little to no admirers and even less mates.
⠀⠀⠀ Darcy was somewhat pleased to see her friend, in all of his gangliness and sharp wit, befriend the new sixth former from Portsmouth. So much so that she didn't bother to interrupt their conversation, or insert herself in it.
⠀⠀⠀ The common room, more often than not, was usually full to the brim; especially since they repurposed the place and added microwaves and sag bags. Albeit, during mock season, this area was almost completely deserted — especially at this time of morning. Darcy spotted upper sixths scattered few and far between. Some were sleeping on the wide sofas, few peppered at tables, textbooks crammed between the palms of their hands. The mocks were forty minutes from now, so that gave most some time to revise before they either rose to the occasion or failed to succeed.
⠀⠀⠀ Darcy took a deep breath and strode purposefully toward one of the vacant seats at a table tucked between the furthermost corner of the room.
⠀⠀⠀ "Why are your shoulders doing that?"
⠀⠀⠀ "What?" Darcy said over her shoulders. She was already a few feet ahead of them, Jude and Emma trotting closely behind.
⠀⠀⠀ "Touching your earlobes," the dark-haired boy replied.
⠀⠀⠀ Darcy willed her shoulders to relax. "Jitters."
