How You Get the Boy (h.s)

Chapter Two

Nothing stressed Blair out more than the end of the week essay for her History lecture. She was almost always stuck with a subject that didn't interest her in the slightest, and if it was a subject she actually liked there was buckets of other course work to do that week, which barely left her anytime.

Blair was thankful for being on her fourth and final year at Cambridge and she'd be glad when it ended.

Blair wasn't a school person, she never had been, much to her father's dismay. However, she did enjoy learning more about the English language as she grew up and more about other languages too, particularly Greek and Latin (which led her to study Classics). The way the lecturers talked was much too boring for Blair and she'd liven up each lecture with little fiction stories of what had been said that day. It was a process, it worked, but it didn't make Blair excited about sitting in a classroom listening all day.

She much preferred reading, finding out for herself, constructing her own opinions. She didn't like it when things were twisted so she was made to believe one thing while her morals and personality probably wouldn't have pointed to the other.

Blair endured it though, of course she did. She liked the things she was learning, but she just didn't like how she was learning them.

Her dad would have liked her to become something great like a lawyer or an accountant or something else totally boring. But that wasn't what Blair wanted, at all. Blair was both to stubborn and to in love with her passions to take anything her dad had told her into consideration. Even if it was how good of a lawyer she could be because of her drive to stand up for things, be argumentative and ask questions. She didn't find any need to put these qualities to use in being a lawyer, not to defy her father, but simply because that wasn't what she wanted from her life.

Blair's father had been surprisingly okay with it, he was awfully controlling after all.

Blair honked the horn of Jamie, her flatmate's car, impatiently waiting for her to come out of the small attached house they shared together.

Blair had been living with Jamie for the past eight months, and they'd known each other a year. They met when Jamie transferred from Manchester University to Cambridge and took the same English lit class. They'd never been anything more than acquaintances. When Jamie was looking for someone to rent the room in the small house her parents owned for a very cheap price, Blair took the offer and didn't look back. Blair had grown to like Jamie. Well outside of the flat anyway. Jamie tended to be messy, and have no knowledge of what a personal bubble was. Especially Blair's. But the rent was cheap and Jamie was one of Blair's favourite people form Uni outside of the flat setting.

Blair hadn't made a tremendous amount of Uni friends like she'd always thought she would. She had the people she'd stop and chat to if she saw them outside of Uni, but she never purposely spoke to any of the people from Uni outside of Uni hours. Apart from Jamie of course. Blair wasn't a person who was big on having a group consisting of fifty friends. She was the type of girl that had her very best friend (in her case Poppy), one or two other close friends, and then acquaintances. Blair didn't see much point in having fifty close friends, because after all that was more people that could break your trust.

Blair honked the car horn repeatedly after seeing that she only had 10 minutes to get to her only class of the day. Knowing London traffic would be peaking at this time in the morning she doubted she'd get there on time.

"Bit too eager to get to class aren't you?" Jamie said rhetorically with a huff as she started up the tiny car once she was inside.

Blair shook her head. "Just don't fancy being late."

"Relax a bit for once," Blair rolled her eyes, "we've got like 10 minutes till class starts."

"We're late every time we have a morning class," Blair argued.