"I swear to God; I will get on my knees and beg."

The failed attempt at a whisper had everyone in the small classroom hushed, eyes shooting to stare at me as I shrank back into my seat. My stomach dropped, and my ears went hot behind the hair I'd struggled to tame this morning.

That should've been my first hint that today wouldn't go as planned, the start to a second week of hell. Rarely would I have to fight with my hair, but when I'd gone to do a cute little chignon that I'd spent an hour learning how to do from YouTube last night, the poof on top of my head just had to be poofing.

And I'm talking like Buddy Pine from The Incredibles poof. The sight of my reflection had honest-to-god moved me to tears, and I'd yanked all the pins out–only for my elastic to turn into a python and swallow a chunk of my hair before disappearing between the curly strands.

That bitch was missing. The elastic was still hidden somewhere on my head, alongside three pins and a butterfly clip, but I hadn't had time for another battle and merely scrunched it all up into a loose ball with some hairs framing my face.

How was this relevant?

It wasn't, but my point was that I should've known the day would be shit when my hair tried to eat me. Being called out by Professor Roberts shouldn't even have surprised me, and now I had people staring at me when, deep down, I could feel the ball on my head slowly sagging like my abuela's titties. Any lower and the scrunchie I'd used to secure it would pop off, and I'd go from Buddy to the fucking Queen of Hearts.

The one played by Helena Bonham Carter.

Did it matter?

Yes, because that specific one had a big head and even bigger hair.

I looked like that; I could feel it. Ignoring my slowly watering eyes, I subtly peered around at the people staring at me. The one with the most intense stare was Theo, a fellow second-year journalism student whose whole neck, for some reason, always smelt like a boiled egg. The harsh odour would waft its way into my mouth whenever he giddily leaned in for a hug. You might be thinking, why the fuck is your mouth open when you're hugging people, Nailea?

Well, for your information, Theo's hugs always took me by surprise, and I'd try to evade them by laughing and dancing out of his hold. Luck was never on my side, and I always found my lips inches from his detached earlobe. He was staring at me so intensely, alongside every other person in the room. The class I was currently sitting in wasn't big by any means, with only ten students taking the elective. But the mortification remained, mainly because I'd managed to interrupt the discussion.

Again.

I apologised quietly, sending my most innocent look towards Professor Roberts. She raised a silver brow, gaze flitting between the blushing girl seated to my left and me. Whispers began floating around, adding to the redness slinking up Diana's pale neck and cheeks. I bit my lip, willing myself not to shudder beneath the eagle-like stare of my professor.

"Something to share, Ms Rubio?" Roberts asked, the corner of her lips quirking the slightest bit. Diana's flush deepened at the inquiry, fearing she'd be in trouble were I to divulge the reasoning for our hushed whispers. I wouldn't. Not unless she continued to refuse me. She had to see the logic behind it all.

She would see it. There was no way she'd so readily throw this opportunity away, not after the efforts of the past few weeks. This was my shot, to make things right with her after she'd been giving me the cold shoulder for the past week. A taste of your own medicine, she'd called it, and it was pissing me off.

Roberts hummed impatiently at my silence. All attention was on me once more. Shaking my head, I smiled dazzlingly and waved a dismissive hand, even though I felt ready to throw up. "Not at all, Professor. Please continue."

Roberts appeared to be scrutinising every facial feature of mine, and I kept my smile in place as she eventually redirected her focus back to the task at hand. A few eyes lingered on me, but I overlooked them, staring pleadingly at an embarrassed Diana. She wouldn't meet my gaze and instead continued to scribble down notes.

I pouted, a glum sigh leaving me as I looked down at the tiny slip of paper in my hands. Who knew something so minuscule could bring such misery into my life? A silly scrap of paper, part of some stupid game that I hadn't even wanted to partake in.

The one time I was late to this damn class.

"I'd say you have around two months, give or take," Roberts resumed, her hands folded behind her back as she paced the classroom length. I watched her boots click against the floor, mentally paging through all my options as I curled a stray baby hair around my finger. "The weighting for this assignment was previously fifty per cent of your year's mark," her eyes, shining with delight, landed on my slumped figure, "but I decided to take pity on my beloved students and lowered it to a whopping forty-six per cent."

Gerard elevated his hand, and his tone was laced with bewilderment. "You lowered it by four per cent?"

I scrunched my nose as if echoing his inquiry. We shared a fleeting glance that I thought signified partnership in the face of a dragon camouflaged as a professor. But when his eyes hooded imperceptibly, and his tongue slid out to lick at arid lips, I realised my error.

"Ew." The words were audible only to me, but it was clear Gerard clocked my shudder and disgusted frown because soon he was glowering at me. His narrow shoulders went stiff with aggravation as he turned his attention back to the front.

How in the everloving hell did me blinking at him give the impression of 'please fuck me'? And this wasn't the first time either. Gerard needed to keep it in his pants because the next time he made a grab for me, he was going to find a pencil lodged up his stupid nostril. Shrugging off his leers, I forced my attention back to the discussion.

Roberts dipped her chin, trying to hide her smile. "You all have Ms Rubio's four interruptions to thank for that." I frowned. "You can now sleep better at night knowing she's given you a free four marks to your overall grade."

I raised a hand, hating the way Roberts fought a laugh once she finally called my name. "Professor, what happens if we're unhappy with our topic?" Diana tensed, turning to me with wide brown eyes. I shrugged in response because she'd had her chance.

"Nailea," she mumbled under her breath. When I didn't retract my query, she spoke directly to Roberts. "I promise you this wasn't planned, Professor. I'm entirely pleased with my topic–"

"I believe you, Ms Woods," Roberts interrupted her word vomit, not once having looked away from me. "From my understanding, it was Ms Rubio badgering you to trade topics with her. Am I correct?" My jaw dropped in betrayal when Diana instantly nodded.

The little bitch.

"How bad is your topic?" Theo asked with a chuckle.

I huffed. "None of your business. Professor, it's unfair that we had to pull an important assignment from a hat." I received a handful of agreements from students who'd gotten stuck with the bland topics. I didn't mind, though, as long as I wasn't alone in my vexation–I am Sparta and all that. If that even made any fucking sense

Roberts tossed her grey ponytail over her shoulder, somewhat surprised by the number of students who hadn't appreciated her method of distributing the assignments. "My, my. I was under the impression that we all loved the hat."

"I love the hat," Diana added.

"Nobody asked you, loser." The voice came from somewhere at the back of the class, but I was too annoyed to laugh.

I fully believed the world was out to get me. Roberts had to see that it was unfair. Due to being late, there'd only been one topic left in the hat, and it wasn't my fault my previous lecture had run overtime.

My voice was nearly a whimper. "Professor."

She hummed. "Ms Rubio."

A ginger named Yolanda leaned over and swiped the paper from my hand. Her dark eyes scanned it before she gasped. "Holy–Nai!" She was at my desk now, hands planted before her as she practically stared into my soul. "I'll swap with you."

My smile was instant, the first genuine one of the day. "Yes!"

This would become Yolanda's problem and not mine. Diana could fight with her if she wanted the topic when realisation inevitably hit her. They could squabble amongst themselves and leave me the hell alone.

But just like that, my professor crushed all of my hope.

"To your seat," Roberts scolded Yolanda, clicking her fingers to signal she leave behind my paper. The girl groaned and dragged her feet back to her desk. "There'll be no exchanging of topics." I raised a hand. "Under any circumstances." My hand lowered. "I took great care not to include anything too difficult, an effort I can guarantee many other professors wouldn't even bother with."

Diana jotted that down before she lifted a hand. "Will lectures continue for the duration of this assignment?" I rolled my eyes, casting her a subtle glare whilst slowly shaking my head to test the stability of my bun.

Answer: as stable as two tectonic plates about to crash.

Roberts shrugged at Diana, giving me an odd look as she watched me wiggle my neck. "Depends. I see no need for added lectures. There are a mere two months left of this quarter, and I'd prefer you dedicate this lecture slot towards finishing your respective articles." She glanced briefly at me, frowning when she found my head tilted to one side and my bun holding on for dear life. "You can schedule individual consultations with me, if you'd like. But there'll be no lectures." Diana was scribbling again. "And no changing of topics."

Ignoring the longing stare Yolanda gave my paper, I spoke, "I'd like to schedule a consultation."

The scrunchie gave in, and the entire left side of my mane popped free. Scrambling like an idiot, I aggressively tugged at the elasticated fabric and pulled it loose, allowing the curls to now go tumbling down my back.

"Nothing you say will convince me to give you a different topic, Ms Rubio." I opened my mouth to argue, gripping my scrunchie in a clenched fist. "Class dismissed."

I packed my bag with an annoyed huff and was the first to leave the room, sidestepping Theo as he waited with open arms. He could go hug a fucking cactus if he was that desperate for some love. Every step I took worsened my irritation. If I hadn't needed to fill my credits, I would never have taken sports feature writing as an elective. Out of the bland options available, it had looked the most appealing because of Professor Roberts' stellar reputation, and the first year had been outstanding. The beginning of second year? Fantastic.

The last stretch of my second year? Clearly not going well.

Gripping the straps of my backpack, I sped up my walk, knowing that Diana was probably running after me to explain herself. But, of course, it was always 'explaining' with her, and frankly, I was beginning to get a little annoyed. Okay, a lot annoyed. And there was no saying what would come out of my mouth if she confronted me when what happened was still so fresh.

The hallways were filled to the brim, with students rushing to leave their lectures as the lunch period commenced. I used this to my advantage, quickly slipping past bodies and leaving Diana far behind. A 'Hello" there and 'Hi' over here as people smiled at me, and soon I was at the doors. When I finally stepped out of the building, the breath that left me was beyond relieved. There was no stopping for hugs because I practically sprinted across the parking lot to get to my car. Once there, I threw myself into the driver's seat before chucking my bag into the back.

God, it all felt so suffocating. I ran a hand through my hair, pulling out stray pins and trying to figure out what the fuck was wrong. My day had started out completely fine, just as normal as any other day (minus the chignon fiasco).

But then, when I'd stepped onto campus, it felt like I'd been transported to another world. Judgemental eyes were suddenly following my every move; whispers were shared as I passed, and smirks were concealed behind hands whenever I was in the same room.

Oh, and we couldn't forget the article topic I was stuck with after arriving late to Roberts' class. The reminder of it all had me twisting the silver anxiety ring on my right middle finger. I concentrated on spinning the little sunflower attached to it, taking deep and calming breaths.

My phone chose that moment to ring, and I mentally screeched like a dying pterodactyl.

"Please don't be Diana," I whispered pleadingly, leaning over the seat to scour through the front pocket of my bag for my stupid phone. Upon seeing the contact name, my nerves eased, but my mood remained unchanged. I answered the call, facing the front and tucking my knees to my chest. "I don't even have the energy to say something funny."

"Oof, bad day?" Nyx's calm voice met my ears, barely perceptive over the cacophony in the background. She cussed under her breath. "Can you assholes cut it out? God, you're like kids–Grayson!" I pulled the phone away from my ear when she screamed. "Don't you dare slap his ass with that towel! Stop it! Urgh." There was the sound of dramatic stomps and the slamming of doors. Nyx cleared her throat. "How are we doing, chickie?"

I groaned, leaning back in my seat. "Is it too early to say this is the worst week of my life?"

"It's Monday."

"Fuck Mondays."

Nyx laughed, the sound putting a slight smile on my face. "Alright, fuck Mondays then. Any particular reason why this Monday sucks ass?" I groaned again, weighing whether I should complain about Diana or not. My problems sounded childish compared to the shit Nyx had dealt with.

And what was I upset about? My roommate wouldn't trade article topics with me.

When my silence persisted, Nyx sighed. "That bad, huh?"

Putting the call on speaker, I began moodily strapping my seatbelt and inserted the keys. "M'sorry for moaning like a baby. I'm sure you're already under a lot of stress being back to work after everything–"

"Nope, we're not having any of that," she cut me off, her tone turning scolding. I supposed she'd perfected the maternal voice due to having two younger sisters. But as the youngest sibling and resident brat in my family, the voice had no effect on me. "Didn't we just talk about this last week?"

I slowly reversed. "The weeks are starting to blur, not going to lie. I think it's early signs of dementia or something."

"Nai," she scolded as I rolled down my window, "just come over to the rink, alright?"

I checked the time, mulling whether I could fit it into my schedule. It was looking to be a no, seeing as I had some lecture notes to catch up on. "Why? The boys giving you that much trouble on your first day back?"

"No. I wanna see you before you go scurrying off to tonight's party, wild child," she teased, bringing up the reputation I'd carefully crafted for myself. "Whose place is it at this time?"

Ahaha. Well, she'd be disappointed to know there was no party for me tonight. Nyx was under the impression that my talk with Diana had gone brilliantly, and I was too much of a wuss to admit I'd let Diana's tears sway me again. However, lying wasn't a talent of mine. I resisted the impulse to slam my head into the steering wheel because I couldn't think up a name to give her for the life of me.

Just then, a somewhat familiar dark-haired guy strolled past my car, laughing with his friends. I wracked my brain for his name. This was, by far, the worst thing about knowing so many people; remembering names.

"Jaxon Simmons," I blurted, cringing at my voice crack.

The guy in question swivelled around at the sound of his name, and I cringed harder as my eyes stung with tears of horror. Because obviously, I'd yelled his name like a lunatic through my open window. He caught my eye and waved. When I forced a smile through my mortification, he turned red as hell and started blinking rapidly, prompting his friends to shove him teasingly.

"Hello?" Nyx hummed, interrupting whatever was happening inside my head. "The guy from sports media class?"

"That's our guy," I replied, waving glumly at Jaxon before driving onwards.

"Cool, I'll see you there, hopefully. If practice runs smoothly, Benson may just let me leave early."

I nearly slammed my car into the barrier gate at her casually spoken words. "Did I say Jaxon Simmons?" I asked, uncomfortably reaching my arm out the window to scan my student card.

But, of course, my arm was the length of a fucking toothpick, and I was too far from the little machine thing. Seeing my struggle, the security guard took pity on me and walked over before scanning his staff card. The barrier gate opened, and I hit the gas, nearly breaking my neck in the process.

"Nai, what's going on with you?" Nyx questioned, voice turning concerned. "Is it Diana again?" But, again, no plausible excuse or answer was anywhere close to formulating in my mind. I hated lying to her, but happy Nailea was better than sad Nailea—and I didn't want Nyx anywhere near the latter.

Desperate to end the conversation, I began making crackling noises and reached for the phone on the dashboard. "Nyxie, I think you're breaking up."

"I can hear you clear as day, you little bitch–" I hung up, letting out a string of curses in my native tongue.

AN: don't forget to vote and comment! oh, and add my fantasy book to your goodreads for a forehead kiss, mwah