The Runaway Professor

7. No Artist Lifestyle

Once the trembling in my body minimized to just my hands, my sweaty form gasped for air. Water. The banging aching at the base of my skull was secondary here. All I cared for was to not die of thirst.

Bright light hit my sensitive eyes and even the sunglasses I had stolen from some passed out guy near me, —I believed he joined Paige and me later on— didn't help me guide myself to the dormitory. It seemed to last an eternity for my dehydrated and shaking body to find itself up the staircase.

"The artist lifestyle is not for you," Leo joked, her eyes not quite as squinted as mine, though she must have had a rough morning herself considering how last night ended. The atmosphere shifted once her sarcasm was dropped. "Shit, are you alright?" I nodded, my head probably doing a horrible job at only shaking up and down. Her hand found my shoulder, though the touch burned as if she had slapped my bare skin with a leather whip ten times harsher than considered hot. Her eyes grew stern. She knew. "When did you take it and how much?"

There was no way in hell I'd tell her about that. Mainly because I didn't know how much —of whatever— it was.

"Leo I need to get to class. Clothes and some pills to still this for the time being. Please," I begged her in a whispered plea.

I had no time nor energy to bear the whole history of the previous hours to her, when I barely remembered what took place after sniffing the first line of cocaine.

The scent of a sweetly reeking coffee in my nose and the warmth pressing against my palm, my eyes fell shut. Slightly wet hair was pinned up by a hair clip and the magic pills did wonders to my body.

Drowning out the chaos consisting of my business class around me, I drew a last deep breath and was relieved to not be aware of the type of emotions trying to win the race in my head.

Soon I'd be out of here, getting some rest in my bed, sleeping off whatever it was. Maybe it was just a cold anyway. It was not uncommon to fall sick after a night out, since I rarely dressed appropriate for the weather and still ended up being in teh cold way too often, doing things I shouldn't. Yes, I'd lay down in bed and spread my body out as a starfish would do, sleep would hit me instantly and I would be fine just y tomorrow. The sheets not too cold and not too warm either...

"Put your things away and pass the papers out to the person behind you," Mrs. Blanchett spoke and freezing fear slipped down my back, coating my body in sweat.

"Did you know about the test?!" I nudged Leo, breath short with panic and the aftermath of doing drugs that night.

"It slipped my mind too... I swear on the Holy Spirit of Maja!" She smiled apologetic, hands in the air and I was too exhausted to question whether it was the truth or not. Besides, I did not accuse my closest friends of something if there was no motive. Because why would she keep this from me on purpose? "You could leave before the test is passed out? Or I'll help you out once?"

It was a rather one sided exchange of help when it came to tests. I was the one to study and she was the one to copy with few mistakes and a different vocabulary. Needless to say it worked out just fine for us. Her part in this was the social one. Leo got us into clubs or ensured to feed me when exams came up. She claimed to study as well, but it was a blunt up lie because when I sat down with stacks of books, she munched the crunchiest food and went onto social media.

"Let's see how well you remember our last lecture, shall we?" I made the mistake to meet her eyes and just then it seemed she did this on purpose. She announced a test when I was kicked out of class and only the less reliable person I had contact to was left behind. "Twenty five minutes will be more than enough."