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─────── ☆*･゜ﾟ･*♡ ───────
Tuesday, September 3rd
─────── ☆*･゜ﾟ･*♡ ───────
Aurora and I sat in Mr. Vince's office about a little after lunch time. Some of the classes were canceled for those in the wing where the fire started so a lot of us were moved around. It wasn't a free day since our teachers expected us to finish our assignments and work on studying for upcoming exams.
"And you saw him in the lab with you guys?" Mr. Vince asks, confirming Aurora's story.
Aurora nods. "He was there with us while we were working on a project. As we were in the middle of doing research, Maddison saw something in Emory's hand."
"And you said it was a lighter?" Mr. Vince asks.
Aurora doesn't say anything immediately and hesitates for a second. "Yes."
Mr. Vince looks at her with a look of unsureness. He hums. "I'll be speaking to the fire marshall to confirm the details, but for now I do wish to speak to you privately about your grades." Mr. Vince looks at me and I take it as a hint that he's kicking me out.
"I'll be seeing you tomorrow morning," I say with a polite smile. I get up from my seat and leave the office.
I sigh in relief as the meeting is now over, but the worse is to come. Having to organize where the other clubs will be meeting for their club meets. The computer geeks no longer have a place to do their techy stuff and the club across from them is the photography club which works alongside the yearbook club.
Tiffany is waiting for me outside of the office while using a nail file. "God this is going to be so stressful."
"What does the boss have you doing now?" She asks, chewing on her gum.
"I have to figure out where all these clubs are going to hold their own meetings," I say, "all while I have to plan the homecoming dance." I sigh as I take a seat next to her.
"Are you running for Homecoming Queen?" She asks.
I shake my head. "I don't think I gave it some thought to actually run for it."
"So you wouldn't mind if I win?" I could tell she's itching to win something for once. She's never shown interest in running for anything in the school, but for some reason in our last year, she wants to win in something.
"I really don't care," I say with a shrug.
"Cool. We should go to the mall after school. I need new makeup for the dance." She puts her nail file away and pulls out her small compact mirror. She fixes her hair and pulls out a tube of pink lipgloss.
"I can't. I have to meet with the dance committee to start planning and budgeting for the dance," I say, "I have to have a list of expenses ready by the end of the week."
