The Casanova's Class Clown

Chap. 03: Job

The graph results were usually given at the second week of school for non-dorm and non-scholar students, like her.

If Emma ever needed anything, she would be most suited to look for it at the Academics Department, the Nerd Hangout, so to say.

Ironically, however, Kat showed she would best fit the Social Studies Department, the hangout which the wallflower girl loathed to go to the most because of all the preps situated there. Meanwhile, Oliver, with all his basketball prowess, got into the Sports Department where he was one of the few sophomores to become a regular player.

Emma held onto the straps of her bag, looking over at her surroundings.

The Social Studies Department, or most commonly known as the Prep Hangout, was a really posh place. Everyone she met seemed to be so in the loop with everything trending or what will, from movie stars to fashion to every other event in the world concerning human newscast, even politics and the hottest nightclubs!

"Oh, Emma!"

The class clown girl looked up at the girl who spoke, and an authority figure made her smile wary.

"H-hi Megan!"

She cocked a brow. Megan Snow was a member of their student council, a group Emma found a tad intimidating. Breaking rules was one thing, Emma could still get along with that group since they still seemed human enough to make mistakes, but the student council? They always gave off the flare that they were... perfect. Megan was no exception to Emma's assumptions, despite them being the same batch.

"You really do act strange sometimes." Megan commented with a shake of her head. "Anyway, I just wanted to make sure if you got the memo? The café's going to go through a little renovation spree and you might get a break for the rest of the week and the next couple weeks after."

Emma's eyes widened, her mind suddenly alarmed. "No, I did not get the memo!" She marched pass Megan, stopped to thank her for the news and said goodbye, and kept marching toward the Department's building in distress, the students she passed making way for her.

The Prep Hangout's building was a cozy-looking grey structure that reached four stories high, including its attic, which reminded Emma of one of those British townhomes. Located there was DDA's own Café, The Fluorescent, serving coffee and lattes of all sorts and shapes and flavors. This was a popular hangout for preps of all kinds, and her part-time job was being the one serving them.

She passed the first few outdoor tables, nodding and smiling to a pair of her coworkers she passed, and entered the building through the finely-crafted doorway.

She walked straight through the rows of neatly distanced round tables and chairs, passing by the beautiful, lush structure of modern furniture and state-of-the-art equipment. Outside, the building looked as though it was mere grey bricks with glass windows, but inside was marble of a light beige that gave the place an elegant demeanor Emma had easily adapted to the first time she came in there. Her manager, who was wiping the surface of a nearby table, watched her every movement with a cocked brow.

She kept walking, until she reached the farthest end of the room where a long sofa laid pushed to the wall, a glass coffee table in front of it and a single prep sitting on it.

DDA was a private school owned by a very distinguished family with a lineage rooting back to the school's opening in the end of the 1600s. Beginning from the time of the academia's original owner, Zamia Dulcet, which the school was named after, the school had been in single ownership out of one birth per generation. An unprecedented accomplishment happened, however, that by the end of the 19th century, the most recent birth of the Dulcet lineage differed. Instead of the usual, single child birth that was common in academia history, the recent successor gave birth to five children for consecutive five years.