When Luna Hart transfers to Oakham conservatoire, something isn't right. Her flatmates, deemed 'The Five', by many, are made up of Oakham's most elite. They're known for being rich, ruthless and cold-hearted. But why is Luna so particularly despised...
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BY THE time class ended I had managed to write three sentences: my name, the title, and the date; all of which were entirely useless and a colossal display of idiocy.
It wasn't like I usually got distracted in class. Because I never did - at all. It was, perhaps, although I refused to admit it to myself, because of a certain boy sitting several rows in front, his entire demeanour both enticing and completely draining to look at - the way his head turned to survey his surroundings quietly, the tapping of his finger on the back of the chair beside him; each stretch and each fidget.
Luckily, Gabby hadn't noticed my lack of note-taking, or obvious staring in said direction. Instead, as the rest of the students began to pack away their belongings, she asked if I'd like to have lunch with herself and Ryan, suggesting we meet at the campus cafe around 12ish. With a depressingly eager nod I told them I'd love to, suddenly grateful for someone to latch onto.
Once they were gone, blending in amongst the continuous stream other students leaving the theatre, I began to make my way toward Dr Foreman, who was already deep in mid conversation with another student.
"Well not entirely - it was suggested that melodious intervals created interesting activity in the brain of the subject. That was my direction." He was saying as I approached, using his hands to animate the topic.
"Right, well I just thought-"
Dr Foreman smiled, kind eyes crinkling at the sides behind their oval lenses. "Arwen, go home. Sleep. Stop looking into things too much. I'm not intelligent enough to answer."
Arwen, the small girl with a messy fringe and a growing redness on her cheeks, nodded. "Okay. Sorry. I just get ahead of myself sometimes." She laughed nervously, beginning to walk away, still facing him. "Oh, and could I get a copy of-"
"Already sent it to you."
"Right." Arwen stood still for a second, pursing her lips, before finally she swivelled around on her heels and sped off to the exit, her bag clanging loudly with each bounce of her feet.
As soon as the doors shut, Dr Foreman let out a noise that resembled that of a dying whale. "I don't know how much longer I can deal with her. She lingers like a bad smell. Every single class. Do I look like someone who cares?"
It took me a minute to realise he was talking to me, considering the last of the students were making their way out of the room. "Yeah," was all I managed to come out with.
Dr Foreman stared at me in between the fingers covering his eyes.
"I mean no." I corrected myself hastily. "You don't look like someone who cares. I just- um."
"Luna, isn't it?" He spoke after a while, elongating the "oo" sound for extra emphasis. If he was irritated by my awkwardness, he didn't show it. "Nice name. All celestial and that."
