Outside Genesis Hall...
"I swear y'all have it out for me, dragging me to that boring shit for an hour and a half." With a yawn, Hailey stretched and squinted, allowed her eyes to adjust to the bright sun. Fighting another yawn, she heard a sleepy Monáe respond to her in French. "Mr. Interpreter." She pointed at Roscoe.
"This gap in your knowledge is questionable." Roscoe rose a judgmental eyebrow.
"Sue me," Hailey replied cheekily.
The linguist sighed, an unamused expression taking hold of his features as he mumbled something in Spanish. "Basically, she was surprised that you could stay awake."
"The main guy, what was his name again? He just kept dronin' on and on, took him forever to shuddup," Dee said with a screwed-up face.
"The main guy? Are you serious?" Roscoe groaned. "Mr. Yarbrough is the university president. How am I the only one who read the handbook?"
"Um, teacher's pet?" Tina elbowed Ashley in the ribs.
Watching his girlfriend stifle a chuckle, Roscoe grunted, "I heard that."
"It was meant to be heard," Tina said, sticking her tongue out in a puerile display.
"Whatever"—the intellectual teased his nape—"Our first class will begin soon."
Tina spun about. "And where would that-"
"In the direction that Brandon is already headed," Roscoe cut her off.
Inside Djedi Hall...
"We've been walking for twenty minutes. How big is this place?" An exhausted Monáe threw her hands up in frustration.
"And whose bright idea was it to build headquarters so out of the way?" Ashley chimed.
"Betcha it was the same genius who put it on a mini-mountain," Dee supplied as she bypassed the main floor's greeting card, an artificial waterfall behind which a portrait of Djedi hung.
"In its entirety, the campus is approximately six hundred acres," Roscoe informed.
Hiding in plain sight, my ass. Surrounding this place with a six-foot fence just screams secret.
Tina turned another confusing corner, passed one of Djedi's colossal frosted windows.
"Are we even heading in the right direction?" Monáe asked, her bladder near bursting as she eyed an inordinate plank of cherry wood. The red thing was tacked above an archway and beautifully inscribed.
"According to the map I studied"—Roscoe emphasized his solidarity, and looked up, toward the glorious, elephantine crystal chandelier that bathed the walls in iridescence—"our lecture hall should be around this next corner."
"Lil' Bit,"—Denzel rushed to Monáe's side with a perverted smile and eagerly flexing digits—"wanna piggyback ride?"
"Don't be a creep," Dee groaned, passing some more framed runes, hieroglyphs, and mythical paintings.
"Merci," a nettled Monáe sighed more to herself than to the grubby-handed man, "but I'm okay."
Hailey snickered at the bilingual's thanks. "Your Lil' Bit"—she wagged her eyebrows at Monáe—"will be alright. She used to do track you know."
"Over five years ago, and my horrible endurance was why I was a sprinter," the small teen retorted.
As Monáe spied a bathroom and showcased her speediness, a sight to behold came into view. Stood outside the group's lecture hall was a slightly plus-size and statuesque figure with moderately tanned skin, enlarged features, and dark brown eyes that crinkled with kindness at the corners. The ageless woman's bright and welcoming smile was a perfect match to her dainty pearls, and her half-tied, brown and blonde dreadlocks cascaded down the back of her velvet skirt suit like turbulent waves.
YOU ARE READING
Obey
RomanceWhat would you do if someone had complete control over your life? Would you roll over and take their orders, or would you fight back? In this world, bonded Protecteds have absolute control over their Guardians, some utilizing their powers sparingly...
