Winter Has Come || Luke Hemmings

Chapter One

     “Kyara! Fucking hell Kyara, wake up!”

   I didn’t need to roll around the slightest to know that my best friend Charlie was hovering over me, arms crossed over her chest. I loved the girl, but fuck, it was six in the morning. We had a rule in this dorm room; nobody wakes Kyara up. The only exceptions to this rule were death, or a police standing at the doorway with a warrant.

    Either way, I grumbled and stood up from my bed. I rubbed my eyes back and forth and steadied myself. I looked into the mirror and was horrified. My hair was disheveled, I had to do my eyebrows and the faint scent of grey goose lingered around me.

     “Charlie, what happened last night? Did I sleep with anyone?” I asked, preparing a new pot of coffee and opening the shutters.

     “Nope,” she replied, popping the ‘p.’

    “Damn, I thought I would’ve gotten lucky,” I smirked, sticking my tongue out at my slightly more frigid best friend.

    Humming, she paced around the room, looking for her box of shirts. Yesterday was move in day for the sophomores at Octavian University, and so we were here. To celebrate moving back in, our friend Michael held his annual booze party. He was crazy, even wilder than me, if that was possible. I felt for him, knowing that his apartment was probably trashed and it wasn’t even first day of classes yet.

    Pulling out my favorite mug, I filled it with coffee and signaled for Charlie to fill hers as well, before I pour out the rest. Today was freshman move in day, and she had volunteered us both to help out. I would never do something like this, but then I learned that it gained you extra credit. Extra credit meant that you can skip classes and not fear failing, and that was something that interested me.

    Last night’s party was a bust. There were trashy whores slinging themselves off the shoulders of boys they’ve never met, and the casual game of beer pong. There were no scandals, and absolutely nothing to gossip about with your friends the next day.

    However, I told Charlie and our small friend group that there would probably be another party tonight, celebrating the freshmen’s move-in day. Nothing makes a better laugh than seeing blonde bimbo freshmen doing anything just to get their name out there.

    I brushed out the nest that’s called my hair and ripped open the half empty closet’s doors open, choosing an outfit. This was the second day, and I was orienteering overly preppy freshmen, so it wasn’t like I needed anything fancy. My worn in Led Zeppelin shirt and faded black jeans would do.

     “Fucking hell Kyara, does it kill you to be nice to them?” my friend, Ashton, chuckled as he saw me shooting daggers with my eyes towards the fully pink-dressed freshmen. These girls were in for a rude awakening when they realize that this isn’t how the school rolls.

     I swear to God, this year’s freshman class was the worst. It reminded me of something I read out of the ‘The Clique’ novels in eighth grade. It was like a showdown of who can have the shiniest heels and tight curls. Step aside girls, because soon you’ll be smoking some just to make a friend.

    “Ha-ha Ashton,” I retort playfully, “what are you even doing here? Shouldn’t you be popping a bottle of booze?”

     “You know, I really could say the same to you,” he laughs whole-heartedly.

     “Well I’m here because I need extra credit,” I defend.

     “Which class are you trying to get out of? Gym or media film?”

     “Actually, I’m trying to weasel my way out of psychology.”

     He cocked his head to the left in confusion, “but you’re journalism major?”