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━━━━ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ━━━━
DAVINA felt very far away. And not just physically – though sitting at a table between Will and Peter, across from strangers in a strange place was very far from home – but mentally, too. She could barely concentrate as dinner began and the noise from their arrival died down, the blonde staring at the table as if it would give her instructions on what to do next.
In the centre was a platter of food– hamburgers. She had scarcely realised how hungry she had grown through the gnawing anxiety and nausea of the Ceremony, and with a grimace remembered the last time she had eaten had been lunch at her family's home.
Davina grabbed one for her plate, layering it with her choice of fillings before sitting back down, resting her elbows on the table as if that would reignite her appetite. Someone next to her said something but she ignored it, until they nudged her.
"Do you mind?" she bristled, turning to see the pretty Candor boy. Peter, she had heard him called on the train.
"Are you deaf?" he retorted. Davina furrowed her brows in offence. "I asked if you could pass the ketchup."
"Ask louder," Davina said pointedly as she grabbed the bottle for him and passed it down.
"You're meaner than I thought you'd be," Peter mused as he spurted an ungodly amount of sauce onto his burger bun.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Davina asked, still not touching her food.
Peter shrugged dramatically. "You have a resting bitch face. But I thought maybe you'd be nice because of it."
Davina glared at him slightly. "You don't make it easy to be nice to you. You're pretty until you open your mouth."
Peter an eyebrow at her, looking smug. "You think I'm pretty?"
The blonde rolled her eyes. "I'm mean, not stupid."
"Guess not, Nose," Peter scoffed, taking a whopping bite of his burger.
"Davina," she corrected. "Not Nose."
"What's that, Nose?" he asked around a mouthful of food. "I couldn't hear you."
Davina gave up and turned away, as a hush fell over the hall. She followed the general direction of everyone else's eyes to see a blonde, heavily-pierced man entering. It was so quiet his footsteps could be heard, as he headed towards their table and took a seat with Four.
She stared at him for a few seconds, gauging that the crowd's reaction must mean he held some authority or at least reputation, before looking away to the person sitting on the other side of her.
"Holy shit," she whispered.
"What?" he asked through a mouthful.
"That's Eric Coulter," Davina told him. "Remember? He was only two years above us." She said it quietly, as if maybe he'd hear from where he sat a few places away from them.
