The Merciless (h.s.)

Chapter Six

Arabella

The entire week drifted on like crawling through tar, slowly and painfully trying to reach the comfort of a weekend. On Tuesday I had refused to leave the sanctuary of my room, and barely left my bed except for going to the bathroom and shoving some microwavable concoction into my mouth while Elle attended classes and worked. My next day of classes was Wednesday, and I was considerably more careful in the time I arrived and where I exactly  sat: I had entered the suffocating class of Intro to Psych about five minutes prior to its beginning, and sat at the very front and center rather than in the back where I noticed Harry was sat slouched against the back of his chair with an empty seat next to him in the corner. I was called on twice that hour, but it was considerably a better predicament then being pestered the entire hour with agonizing and pointless questions.

He even held a seat aside in biology on Wednesday. Either that or nobody dared to sit next to him unless forced to. He is quite intimidating, after all. I stole a seat at a table in the third row, instead of the empty chair beside him, just as I had done in my first hour. I wasn't called on, but instead forced to slice a very thin piece of an onion root and inspect it through the calculated glass tube with the partner sitting beside me. I didn't know him, or even bother to introduce myself, but rather focused on what cells were present in the root provided for the two of us.

I did not make any trips to the dining hall. I was not going to risk an interaction I didn't need.

Thursday was almost identical as Wednesday. I made sure to arrive five minutes before each of my classes, just to make sure I had a seat available that was not only subsided to Harry's side. He showed up to every single one a few minutes before me. His eyes were locked on me while deciphering the best choice for sitting, almost trying to compel me to choose the empty one beside him. I never did. I won't for as long as I can help it.

Again, I decided not to eat at the dining hall. My father will be curious as to why I have not decided to spend any of the money on my student card, yet. He has full access to my accounts, after all.

The lack of sleep throughout my nights here has not been a comforting thought, either. Almost every hour my eyes somehow blinked open. The environment here is considerably different then the one I have been accustomed to my whole life back in Michigan.

There is always noise. There is the TV that Elle insists leaving on throughout the night because she cannot sleep without it, constantly playing reruns of random late-night shows that any streaming service can provide. There is the constant sound of cars shuffling through the streets: whether there is traffic or not, someone is always honking or screeching their brakes to a halt. Then there is the construction that starts at the brink of dawn. Every morning I peer out of the yellow curtains draping the window and cannot seem to find the source directly outside, but the distant sound of drilling through concrete is way too persistent to be a dream. It must be somewhere down the street or around the block.

Today started just as Tuesday had. I tried my hardest to ignore the tenacious clattering of construction that must be coming from farther down the street, and the beeping of taxis, and the random shouts and spews of laughter coming from random patrons walking at all different hours. No wonder New York is known as the city that never sleeps. I was awake before Elle, who has her last classes of the week today.

I decided to wake her by nine in the morning. I realized Elle must have class when her alarms started ringing habitually at seven-fifteen. I couldn't ignore the snoozing any longer.

She reluctantly woke up, yet managed to somehow be out of our door by nine-thirty with a full face of makeup and a particularly stylish outfit. I watched her get ready the entire time with no haste. It is amazing how presentable she can become within a short amount of time.