Chatoyant College Book 2: Initiates

Chapter 5: Breakfast

Edie had not really been sleeping when Corrie left to go get Dawn for breakfast and Intro to Magic. She had been hiding under the covers, trying to sleep, but having a hard time because she was so nervous. She was always nervous when school started. It turned out to be unfounded every time, because she was smart and an excellent student, but knowing that didn't help. Besides, this time was completely different from every time before. This was college. The standards were higher, and the classes were different. She didn't know what to expect.

Finally she threw the covers off with a sigh and got dressed. There was no point in trying to sleep any longer. Maybe she should go get some breakfast before her first class. It was nice, at least, that French 103 was so late in the morning. She could sleep if she needed to. After washing her face to freshen up (and try to get rid of the bags she knew were under her eyes) and running a comb quickly through her curls, she fit a notebook, the French textbook, a pen, and one of the Goddess books that Corrie's mom had given her into her backpack.

She was out of breath again by the time she reached the dining hall. At least her shoulders didn't hurt--the books were much lighter than what she had grown used to carrying in high school. She started to reach for sugary cereal for some quick energy, then stopped herself, thinking. She hated being fat. That was an undeniable fact. She didn't like the way she looked, and she really didn't like getting so tired and out of breath just walking from place to place on campus. Sure, she would probably lose weight just from walking up and down the stairs to her room, but sugary cereal for breakfast wasn't going to help. It was probably only going to hurt.

And here she was, at college, starting a brand new year. There would be no better time to change her habits. And her mother wasn't here to nag her, to make her feel guilty and pressured and want to rebel against whatever she said. Whatever eating choices she made were her eating choices. If nothing else, she could be more aware of them--she certainly knew what different foods did to her body.

Edie turned and purposefully walked away from the cereal. Yes, she could have some kind of granola, but that didn't sound appealing and anyway, she wanted to keep herself away from the sugary cereals while she developed the willpower to resist them. It was after the regular breakfast time, so there wasn't any hot food out, but there were some good things to eat. Fruit salad and yogurt. Yes, that looked good. She frowned down at her plate for a moment, then added a couple of slices of toast. Now it was a substantial breakfast. She poured herself a cup of black coffee, then sat down at a table with her new breakfast and her book.

The breakfast wasn't bad, though it also wasn't as filling as she was used to. She was more alert than she had expected to be, but that could have been the coffee, bad as the dining hall coffee was. Still, it was time to get to class, and she'd stay awake through it, certainly.

She passed the magic building on her way to the building where her French class was, making sure to keep on the path. The building, though its oddness was clearly well within the realm of possibility, gave her a chill as she passed. She didn't want to believe in magic. Much as she loved fantasy books, magic was something that belonged firmly inside them. Despite the fact that she'd now seen magic in action, her subconscious resisted it, and it still didn't feel real. Even when reading the book Corrie's mom had lent her, which talked about magic (specifically, witchcraft) as though it were a perfectly natural part of life, she didn't feel as though she got it. In fact, the book was more like fiction to her; she suspended disbelief, but couldn't think of it as something to apply to the real world. Maybe the next book would be different.

Thankfully, the French classroom, though it had plenty of windows, did not face the magic building, so all Edie could see when she sat down was another building and a glimpse of the woods. She took a seat in the front row; most of the other seats were already full, and she didn't really care to sit next to a stranger--a quick glance around the room told her that she had met none of her fellow students. They were mostly sophomores, anyway, finishing up their language requirement. She took her French things out of her bag, opened the notebook to the first, fresh, blank page, and immediately got started defacing it. She doodled flowers most of the time, smooth, round strokes that looked pretty without taking up any brainpower, so she could still listen to whatever her teacher was saying.