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● qυorra neverѕea ●

I pinch my arm to stay awake, my nails sharp enough to draw blood. My eyes focus on Slater at the front of the class as he gestures, and I take notes as he explains.

"Alright," Slater says after he is done, "You will be sorted into groups to present off these topics. This contributes to a big portion of your overall grade so I advise you to start early."

A familiar dread gathers in my chest at the insulting words 'group project'. My gaze scans the room for potential members of my group but it soon snaps back to the front of the room as Slater begins to talk again.

"I will be assigning the groups and you will be marked as a group so make sure you pull your own weight. Many degrees involve some sort of teamwork-building activites and English is no exception. Reorganise yourselves once I read out your groups," he continues as I heave a sigh and slump in my seat, already feeling more exhausted than I did ten minutes ago.

As he reads off a pre-made list (as expected, judging by his impeccable organisational skills), I zone out. The hollowness inside of me is eating me from the inside out. It's no longer hunger, it's more a desperate desire for something... more. The tedious routine of every passing day is boring my creativity like a student forced to watch yet another documentary on penguins.

I can't stand it.

"Group five is Miss Neversea, Miss Jesse Klein, Miss Jameson, Mr Adams, and Miss Howler. Group six is Mr Damon, Miss Georges, Mr Lincoln, and Miss Hannah Klein. Group..."

My lips part as he reads off my group. The room stirs as individuals stand up and find new seats in the lecture hall, closer to the members of their group. I continue to gape as Martha-May and two of her cronies stalk over to me, one of them the spitting image of my only close friend.

"Oh god," Hannah mutters beside me, as they march up to us.

"Looks like we're grouped together, Neversea," Martha-Moody-Margret sneers unkindly as I cross my arms and roll my eyes, too tired to give a snarky retort.

Her friends giggle and Hannah looks away, uninterested as Jesse smirks. They clearly have a dysfunctional relationship despite being twins, but with how contrasting their personalities are (one of them being an angel, and one a close relative of the devil), I'm not surprised.

"Oh, yay," I respond flatly, leaning onto my desk, getting fed up with their bullshit already.

As Slater addresses everyone again, we all find seats and hush up. I remain in my position of exasperation, wondering if he did this in purpose. I glance over at Hannah's group and notice Grant sitting next to her, eyes already fixed onto me heatedly.

I snap my gaze away, heart screaming in my chest.

"Alright, you are all assigned different topics. Presentations will start next week so you have a lot of work to do outside of class. Keep those grades up," Slater advises, before walking around the room to hand out slips of paper with our specific tasks.

Beside me, Martha-Muesli chatters away with her unbearable sidekicks - Clara and Jesse - and the last member of our group, Joseph Adams, shuffles closer to me in his seat.

"Hey," he greets, as I look up and analyse his short, dirty blonde hair and light brown eyes.

I nod in response, ignoring Slater's look as he walks past and hands me the slip. Without lingering my gaze on his searching eyes, I go to grab the paper, but a sharp-nailed hand beats me to it.

"Thank you, sir," Martha-May-She-Die-Soon-Please flutters her eyelashes flirtatiously, leaning up in her seat for Slater to get a good view of her excessive body.

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