Playing Perfect

25. Séparé

25. Séparé

Separated

Alice stepped through the school halls, keeping her eyes low, her usual Travers smile missing from her face.

"Alice!" a voice called from behind her, but she continued to walk.

"Alice," they repeated, falling in step beside her. It was Hugo Fleming, one of the students who had replaced her as prefect when she graduated. "Mr Farrow asked me to print him some papers, but I can't figure out the copy machine. Can you help me?"

"Sorry, Hugo, I have to hurry," Alice replied, trying to remain civil. He pouted, opening his mouth to protest, but Alice sighed, knowing he wouldn't give in. Sometimes she wondered how Sierra Grammar would survive without her.

"One hour," she said. "I'll meet you in the staff room, okay?"

He grinned, muttering a thanks, but Alice had already turned the corner.

With New Year's out of the way, the January Round 1 offers for university would be released in a week. Which meant tonight was Alice's last opportunity to change her preferences before all spots filled.

She'd already been accepted into her top preference, or rather, her parents' top preference—business at ANU. Really, she shouldn't even be thinking about university admissions anymore. Her future was set. It was all going according to plans.

And yet, when Mrs Riddle reached out to her, when she asked Alice if she'd be making an appointment about university applications... She couldn't help but book in a meeting.

Alice was tired.

Yet, she kept walking. She was running late for her appointment.

Alice took another turn, barrelling down an old, stone staircase before pushing into an office, the door labelled 'Guidance Counsellor'.

The waiting room was empty, so she walked directly up to the secretary at the front desk.

"Hi, I have an appointment with Mrs Riddle." She smiled politely, anxiously tapping her fingers on the counter.

The woman glanced at her over thick glasses, then turned back to her computer, her long nails clacking loudly against the keys. "She'll be with you in just a moment. Take a seat."

Alice nodded, thankful she wasn't late, and turned to sit in one of the uncomfortable leather couches. It squeaked beneath her weight and she sat uncomfortably upright. She crossed her ankles, attempting to drone out the annoying tapping of the woman's keyboard.

Instead, she mentally revised her French studies.

Si le réchauffement climatique continue, il n'y a pas—no, she thought—il n'y aura pas. Yes, that sounded better—il n y'aura pas un monde habitable. Dans le futur proche—

"Travers."

Alice jumped, the breathy voice in her ear causing her to squeal in surprise. Her eyes immediately shot up to see the secretary glaring at her from the desk, causing Alice to blush in embarrassment. She spun, finding a highly amused Finn Cauley watching her.

"Finn," she hissed, whacking his arm as her face grew increasingly more red. "You scared me."

"You seemed quite deep in thought there." He smirked, hopping onto the couch beside her with an embarrassingly loud squeak of leather. "Thinking of me?"

"No, Cauley. I was actually thinking about French," she said, raising a brow. The smell of mint flooded her, and she pursed her lips. "Gum, Cauley. Just because you've graduated doesn't mean you can do whatever you want. This is private property, you know."