The Butterfly Effect (Emison)

Chapter One

It isn't to say she's thoroughly peeved with her advisor, because – let's face it – graduating on time isn't exactly her forte anyway. It's somewhat of a miracle that she had made it this far without her dads' ambitions bearing down on her, domineering as they are. It's not like she had ever planned on making a life out of her impulsive, unruly habits after she left home.

Even she has to admit she could be a rebellious little shit sometimes – missing classes here and there and, on more than one occasion, talking back to the professors who would stride right through her defensive blocks. It had felt like high school all over again, except she eventually learned how to deal with the high mighty aristocrats in the real world. A little respect actually comes a long way.

Still, it's sort of inevitable that she'd have to pay the price for her past mistakes. And, okay, maybe Alison is a little pissed. At least enough to warrant the raging headache simmering beneath her left eye.

She's peeved, and it isn't the kind of thing that could be fixed overnight with a bottle of Jack Daniel's or, hell, some cheap red wine; because she just knows – knows that, for one, she isn't graduating on time, which is... okay. And two, she's a whopping six credits away from doing so.

Why? Because she's a rebellious little shit.

And judging by the little post-it note her advisor had given her, a cocky one, too. Not that she could argue with that.

Alison wishes at that moment that she had grabbed her usual dose of coffee on her way over, the one that she had unwillingly skipped in favor of making it to class on time. The class that – surprise, surprise – is the gateway out of her standing as an undergraduate.

Maybe thoroughly peeved is an accurate expression after all.

She has taken a seat in the far left corner, in a shady looking chair that might collapse if she weighs a few extra pounds. But the window holds a nice view of the campus quad. And god forbid she have nothing interesting to look at.

A few feet away, a girl named Mona has taken the vacant seat beside her. Her small, pale face is perched low into the table, brunette curls falling over her shoulders as she quickly skims through an open textbook in front of her. Mona's a year behind Alison, and thankfully shares no other interests except for the occasional drink down at The Radley on Friday nights. She could be a bit over the top when it came to friendliness, and frankly it makes Alison uncomfortable.

"Did you forget your book or something?" Mona asks as she catches Alison's eye, jarring her out of her reverie. "We can share mine."

Her lips curve into a warm smile, one that emitted just the right amount of cordiality that almost makes Alison grimace in return. At long last she's too resigned to care.

Alison forces a smile. "No thanks, Mona. I think I'm good."

"You sure? I don't mind. Hanna told me you were struggling with your loans."

Alison wants to laugh. If anything she really wants a drink right now and drown in it and forget she's even in here. And maybe laugh a little then, too. But she figures laughing would give Mona the wrong impression – or rather the right one given how annoyingly naïve she could be. Either way she isn't one for hurting other people's feelings, naïve or not.

Alison sighs and presses her palms into her tightly-shut eyelids. "I'll pass. I've had Green before, you know. He's not so bad."

The blank look she receives in turn makes her reconsider her words. "Dr. Green retired last semester, Alison," Mona reminds her slowly.

Alison matches the blank look, her forehead creased as she insists, "You're lying."

"I – I'm pretty sure I'm –"