The Rise of Lydia Rowe ↠ Jasper Hale (ON HOLD)

[3.01] senioritis

"DEATH AND THE STRONG FORCE of fate are waiting. There will come a dawn or sunset or high noon when a man will take my life in battle too—flinging a spear perhaps or whipping a deadly arrow off his bow."

Lydia stared at her computer screen, trying to think of the best way to word the interpretation of the quote to her essay. She'd been at it for an hour now, and as much as she preferred English to subjects like math, she wasn't an English whiz by any means. 

"How's your essay coming?" Gwen asked from behind her.

Lydia let out a frustrated sigh, leaning back in Gwen's desk chair as she let her hands fall away from her keyboard and back into her lap. "Is it normal to completely give up on any and all academic pursuits two months before graduation?" 

Leah snorted from her spot on the bed next to Gwen. "It's called senioritis," she said. "Everyone gets it." 

"I can't afford to give up," Gwen said, glaring at her own laptop as she typed something undoubtedly profound and beautifully-worded. Gwen's way with words was one of the many things Lydia admired—and at times envied—about her best friend. "If I start slacking off now, it'll just haunt me for the entirety of my college career."

Lydia stretched her arms over her head, grimacing at the way her shoulders popped. "If I'm not going to college, does that mean I can give up?" 

"Well..." Embry said from the bean-bag chair next to Gwen's desk.

Gwen glared at him, though there wasn't much heat behind it. Lydia had only ever seen her actually get mad a handful of times, and none of them were because of her friends. "Don't encourage her," she scolded. Then she turned her harmless glare to Lydia. "If I have to suffer, so do you," she told her. "Now finish your second paragraph so I can look it over." 

"So bossy," Lydia mumbled dramatically, but turned back to her laptop and forced herself to finish her second body paragraph.

Embry knocked Lydia's leg with his knuckles. "What's this essay on, anyway?"

"The Iliad," Lydia groaned. "It's the last big essay before graduation—and I cannot for the life of me make myself write it."

Embry laughed, standing up and leaning over her shoulder to look at the mediocre half-finished essay open on her laptop. "That's the one about the Trojan War, right? Wasn't there a Brad Pitt movie based on it?"

"We don't speak of Troy in this house," Gwen said. "Any Iliad adaptation that turns Achilles and Patroclus into cousins has no right to exist." 

"The Song of Achilles is better anyway," Lydia muttered. 

"Speak for yourself," Seth grumbled, laying face-down on Gwen's floor for the sheer drama of it. He'd been like that since he got there. "I'm still recovering." 

"Anyone who's read that book is still recovering," Lydia reassured him. 

"Get back to work, Lydia," Gwen scolded. "And stop distracting her, guys, she needs to focus!" 

"Sorry, Ms. Holloway," Embry teased. "Didn't mean to distract your student."

Gwen threw a pillow at him. "Don't make fun of me," she mumbled. "Or I'll sic Leah on you."

"I'll kick your ass," Leah told him, not looking up from her book.

Embry pouted, hugging Gwen's pillow to his chest. "Lydia, tell them to stop threatening me!"

"Aren't you supposed to be the one protecting me?" Lydia asked as she continued typing.

She didn't have to look to know Embry was pouting.