Amagadas Academy

Funnest Roommate Ever

Quinn's luck was booming.

Francis rushed Quinn throughout the halls. Both of them had a fair amount of stolen snacks in the hands to feed multiple countries--half of China to be exact (thanks Forbes). 

Francis was responsible for the mischief. He'd led her to the kitchen and they'd raided the parties until there was nothing but a few cereal boxes left. It was the most fun both had in years.

They looked over every door until they found Quinn's dorm. Francis put his index fingers on his lips. 

She got the message. 

He slowly opened the door and the two of them crept in. They closed the door behind themselves and dropped the food on the ground.

"Care to explain?"

Surprised, the two fell to the ground. 

A girl sat a bed that made Quinn's side of the room stand out like a sore thumb. She was really pretty. Like really. There was Francis, then there was her. Both made Quinn look like a subway rat the homeless dude would train for the sewer circus.

Not very reassuring for her romantic aspects. 

"Finally," Francis said, relieved. "We run into the nice Ophelia."

"Francis. Would you like to explain why you come to my dorm room at midnight with stolen snacks?"

"Uh..." he started. "It was Quinn's fault!"

Francis pointed his finger at Quinn. She gasped and grabbed her chest, mocking surprise.

"The betrayal!" she joked. "How could you do this to me?!"

"You knew this would happen!" Francis pointed out, faking to wipe away tears.

"Mi amor," Quinn began. "How I loved you so!"

Francis responded in French, which Quinn definitely couldn't understand. The dramatics of the gesturing that followed was top-tier dramatics. So much that it made Quinn burst out laughing in a real laugh. She threw her head back and laughed uncontrollably, clenching her stomach as her back hit the carpeted floor. 

Francis didn't last long either, given he began to laugh seconds later. 

"Stealing isn't funny," Ophelia reminded the two. "It's a federal crime."

Francis rolled his eyes.

"It depends on the country, though." Quinn pointed out, earning herself an annoyed glare.

"I agree with her," Francis professed, pointing at Quinn. "And of course a prime minister's daughter would say that."

"Yeah a prime-- What?!" Quinn exclaimed, looking at the girl with wide eyes.

Shit! 

What if she calls her dad and I get put in a foreign jail? More importantly, would that be a vacation or a punishment from here?

"I think you fried her brain cells, Fran."

"Nah," he disagreed. "She's the scholarship student. I think she has too many cells to fry at once."

"How sure are we with that approximation?"

"Twenty-three point four percent, thank you very much."

Ophelia slid off her bed with an exasperated sigh. She kneeled down to Quinn's level and looked into her soul.

She's really pretty. Why are the people here so beautiful?  Is it the rich people glow? God, I must look like a dirty sewer rat to them.

Ophelia had crystal green eyes that stood out against her dark skin, freckles that lined her nose and cheeks, blonde braids that went to her waist, cupids bow lips that were pink on the top and brown on the bottom. Not to mention, she had an ethereal type of glow that damn-near lit up the entire room.