❝For a man to conquer himself is the first and noblest of all victories.❞
— Plato
The rooms here are of the perfect size for two students. There's a window that overlooks the entire complex in my room and since we're on the top floor, it genuinely seems like an ideal location to me.
The room is divided into two parts with a light blue curtain. Mine's the side away from the door. The moment I've looked around the room, I lay on my bed, sighing. It isn't even one in the afternoon and I'm already exhausted with everything. I haven't really done anything that should've worn me out, though.
Just then, the doors to my dorm room fly open. I look up to find a girl wearing the school uniform just like me walking in. She's of average height - I guess she's a bit shorter than me. Her red hair is tied up in a high messy bun and her face is sprawled with freckles. She looks like she doesn't talk much. I hope that's true.
She walks to her bed, throws her bag down and leans back. She rests her eyes at me and they're filled with an expression of curiosity. "I'm Jade. You're the person I'm gonna stay with for the next three years?"
Not really.
"Clearly," I say.
She sighs. "What's your name? And the program?"
"Harley. Dance." I didn't ask her what her program was but I can make a solid guess. She didn't really seem to mind that, either, because when she hears my name, her eyes go wide in surprise.
"Wait, you're Harley?" she asks. "Like Harley Kingsley? 97.9 percent? Like the first ranker? Like-"
"Hey, slow down, Jude-"
"It's Jade," she points out, but she didn't seem to mind the fact that I'd said her name wrong like most people would. Is she used to it? Or is she just excited? "Anyways, you're her, then?"
"Yeah, I'm her," I reply.
She whistles, clapping her hands. "Whoo, you're really not what I expected. You seem cool, I guess."
"What did you expect?"
"Hm," she looks at the ceiling. "A stuck up arrogant blond who wears big ass specs, maybe?"
I shake my head. "Sorry to disappoint."
"I'm not really disappointed. I've gotten myself an interesting roommate so I'm cool."
Interesting, huh?
I don't reply to that and eventually, in a while, both of us draw the curtains and start to arrange the stuff. I have to admit that the room looks a lot better with the curtains aside but I think Jude knows I need some privacy because I don't want to talk. I'm not really antisocial. In fact, I'm a pretty extroverted individual but the events of the past few months have made me the way I am.
I won't say I'm that cold, emotionless girl with a tragic backstory straight out of a novel or a tv show. I do have emotions. Emotions are one of the things that every human being possesses. It's a flaw in some ways and a power in another. It depends on how people view it - and the way I do; well, let's say that I'm never going to let my emotions take control of me. I don't have the time for that.
It takes me about an hour and a half to finish unpacking my stuff. I didn't bring much of my stuff since I wasn't planning on staying here for the proper three years. Even if I did, I can always go home and bring something.
After I'm done, I take out the notebook from my bag. It's pretty bulk considering the owner refused to begin another one and kept on pasting pages inside it but I'd be lying if I say that I don't like it this way. Sighing, I open the bedside drawer and keep it there. It's one of my most precious possessions but I don't have a great place to keep it at the moment.
I reach for the curtain. Draw it back. I look at the struggling Jude who's trying to arrange her stuff in the room. Her bed has a suitcase laying open with clothes just dumped there. Her cupboard's open, disorganised as ever. Her paint brushes and paints are arranged in a colour coded manner on the floor in boxes.
Just like I had guessed before, she's an art student.
When she notices that I'm looking at her, she just smiles apologetically. "I'm so sorry for this mess-"
"It's fine," I cut her off, "It's your part of the room. Do whatever you like with it." My tone came out to be harsher than I'd intended but there is no way in hell I'm going to offer someone help.
She didn't seem to care about my tone. "Good, then. You're going out?"
I hum. I carefully try to walk over her stuff, trying my best not to step on something but I do and almost trip over but don't since I hold the door knob for support. Biting my lip, I let out a sigh of exasperation, not bothering to even hide my annoyed expression.
"Jesus, let me just help you with that," I finally say and she shoots me a look that clearly says 'Are you sure about this?' I don't say anything but just start to help her out. Together, it doesn't take us even half an hour to finish it since she had most of the stuff organised already. Throughout this time she kept telling me where her paints would go and where her markers would be kept while she arranged her wardrobe.
Finally, when we're done, I stand up. "Thanks, Harley." The room looks a lot cleaner now. "So, you're hungry?" she asks me.
I didn't realise that I was before she said it.
"Yeah," I reply. I look at the time. "It's lunch time anyways. I'm going downstairs."
"I'll come with you," she says. When I throw her a look, she just shrugs. "What? It's not like any of us have friends right now? Plus, we don't have to talk. You don't seem like the kind of person for small talk."
"I'm not, actually."
"But then again, we're stuck in the same class and in the same room so knock it off, princess," she says, her voice on the borderline of mockery and chill. She's snarky, I'll give her that. She's the kind of girl the guys at my previous school would fall for. That's why I didn't really like the idea of being around her. It's the attention she'll get, maybe. But then again, I've already gathered the attention of a lot of people just by giving the entrance exam.
"Fine," I say. "Let's go." I turn around
"W-wait." I pause, tilting my head to meet her eyes. "Wait for me, I'll just come after I change."
I don't reply but I assume she knows I would. I don't know why I'm doing this, honestly. Waiting for her, out of all people. I'm supposed to be alone right now. I really wish they had individual dorm rooms, to be honest. Roommates are a pain in the ass.
It takes her five minutes to slip into something that's not the school uniform. She's wearing an oversized lavender coloured t-shirt and paint sprawled jeans. Her hair is open but not really combed through. She looks pretty. I envy her already.
"So, you're in the dance program?" she asks me, initiating a conversation again.
"Yeah. I told you that already."
"I'm in the art one."
"I figured."
"So," she pauses, "how did you get that high of a score?"
"In my entrance?"
She nods.
I shrug, not knowing what to say. "I don't know. I knew the topics."
She just rolls her eyes. "Harley, you do realise you've broken the records, right? That's a big thing. The second rank - Rhett Carter - he's like fourteen percent behind you. You've already gotten an advantage and the school year hasn't even begun yet."
I'm genuinely surprised by how much she knows about this. "Why do you even know all this?"
"Wait, didn't you see? The app has a scoring chart. And there's a whole ass digital scoring chart in the lobby where everyone can see it."
I knew that the school had tough competition - students were always trying to come at the top. I'll probably never exactly know why but it's one of the examples of the greed for popularity and being the best among the best. The competition is set for students because the desire to win is a part of human nature.
We reach the lobby through the stairs and Jude shows the scoring chart. There were a few first years lingering around it but I didn't care. I see the ten names it displayed right now.
Harley Kingsley | 97.8
Rhett Carter | 83.7
Atlas Elias | 83.3
Ana Vorklov | 82.8
Aliyah Mirza | 80.0
Roman Vermont | 78.1
Remi Lorenzo | 77.7
Julian Hayes | 77.2
Talia Rame | 76.4
Yua Matsumi | 76.0
"Cool, right?" Jude nudges me with a small smile on her face.
"Yeah, cool," I say but my voice comes out as if I'm not interested in it. "Jude, what's your rank?"
She rolls her eyes. "First, it's Jade. Second, mine's like 49 or something. Got stuck on the naughty number."
"The naughty number?" I raise my eyebrows.
"Sixty nine. I've scored exactly sixty nine. No more, no less."
"Oh." I make a mental note to understand to call her Jude purposely from here on. "Let's go for lunch, Jude."
"It's Jade-"
"Shut up," I say and she actually does. We walk to the cafeteria that's located in a separate building in front of the dorm complex. It's very clean and spacious - I immediately like it. There's a counter for buying snacks and a counter that serves dinner and breakfast on weekdays. Lunch is usually served by the school cafeteria.
I walk over to the empty table in the corner after taking my tray. Jude follows and sits in front of me. She keeps on talking but I stop listening when my eyes go to the entrance. A group of students has walked in. A tall, muscular guy whom the girls would drool over is standing in the front. I recognise him from the pictures from the website and the videos of the school performances - he's Asher Hale, the student body president of the school. Beside him is the star dancer, the face of the Redville dance team - Summer Laurent.
Asher's eyes scan over the room many times as he gets his tray. It's as if he's looking for something. Someone. Eventually, his gaze stops at me. Our eyes meet.
And he starts to walk towards us.