Swooped | ✓

Chapter 15: Chicken-Livered

He was my best friend, the person I trusted the most. The person closest to me, the person I have lov-

"Bad Culver, bad Culver!" I scolded myself, slamming my forehead against the surface of my desk, wincing in pain. "Ow. Stupid Culver, stupid Culver."

Milo is straight. He's straight as a stick, and does not like dick. So you've gotta restrain your feelings with a lock, and forget about his cock.

Hah. Now I'm writing tragic poetry in my head.

Good for me.

***

I didn't see Milo for the next week while we prepared for our separate exams. Milo mentioned coming over, but I immediately shut that down with pretty piss-poor excuses, and Milo had definitely noticed, but didn't call me out on it. We still messaged and called, but I dodged any inkling of having the 'Break Up' talk like my life depended on it. Not that it was a 'break up', but an... ending of a best-friendship?

My study was distracted, to say the least. It seemed that even when I was reading about native Australian animals and their diets wasn't enough to distract me from everything. The only time I managed to not be freaking out about the whole Milo-is-probably-scared-I'm-gonna-butt-fuck-him-in-his-sleep issue was when I got messages from Gia showing potential designs for my hero suit.

She had drawn up a multitude of different designs, some utterly atrocious and outlandish (though very haute couture), and others far more agreeable. We had lengthy chats about how my wings worked, and what sort of characteristics my suit's design and material had to have. I also sent videos of how my wings unfurled and retracted, so Gia could make sure the suit didn't interfere with their movement. 

Apparently, her mother had seen a picture of me shirtless on her phone and cracked the shits at her, thinking I was sending nudes. Needless to say, Gia burst out laughing until she cried and her impeccable eyeliner ran, and Mrs Go hated me even more than she did before.

The week of mid-semester exams then came and went quickly. Good, because that meant they were over. Bad, because that means there wasn't a whole lot of time to study. Luckily for me, a large chunk of the exam happened to be on birds, and that was a topic I was well-versed in. In the questions, I could hear my mum's voice reciting textbooks of birds to me instead of bedtime stories, and I was even chuffed when a question on doves popped up.

It was at the end of my exam that I was pulled aside by my main professor - Professor Harriet Sanders - who was a friend of my mother's. They had studied in university together, and I had seen her on numerous occasions since I was a child. She even babysat me a few times when I was too young to look after myself.

"Culver," Harriet called, smiling softly at me. As one of the last people in the exam hall - because I was good with birds, but pretty much completely shit at all of the other questions in the paper and ended up scrambling for answers until the very last second - there weren't many people left in the exam hall. 

"Hey, Prof," I said, grinning tiredly, Harriet just rolling her light blue eyes. She tucked a strand of her greying blonde hair behind her ear, which was clipped up with a faux tortoise shell barrette.  She was shorter than me, but tall for a woman, despite the slight tilt of her body due to having a chronic injury in her left leg. She didn't usually use a walking stick, but when she had been overly active she would see her whip one out - bright aqua in colour, with a parrot keychain hanging off the handle, and the slogan 'Tweet Tweet, Bitch' written down its shaft.

"Please, I've told you so many times, it's so weird having you call me Professor. I've seen you in a nappy, Culver," Harriet said, and I laughed.

"Fine, fine, Harriet," I conceded, rolling my eyes as Harriet gave me a satisfied nod. "What's up?"