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chapter three. ─── DO YOU BELIEVE IN MAGIC?
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THE NEXT FEW DAYS SWEPT BY, BOTH TEDIOUS AND QUICK. Before Orion could even realize it, it was a cold Friday morning, and her first week back at school had come to an end. To say she was exhausted would be saying the least. Her hands felt cramped from all notes she'd be taking, her sleep schedule was still off from the long winter nights of staying up until three in the morning, and her hair was now a mop of curls thanks to the unexpected rainfall Wednesday afternoon.
Despite all that, most of her classes were going smoothly. Though her chemistry class with Mr. Harris was going remarkably downhill. Teachers usually liked Orion. She was quiet, well-mannered, and always tried to get the best grade. Yet, it seemed Mr. Harris had a vendetta against the tan girl.
It started last semester when he yelled at her for sitting in the front (stating her big hair was blocking other students' view) to Tuesday when he assigned Greenburg as her lab partner. Greenburg was known for many things, his weak immune system causing him to cause many mini-pandemics within the walls of their school, and his tendency to trip over his shoes during lacrosse games. Yet, the worst one (at least to Orion) was his inability to show up to his classes. It was why he failed more times than passed, and Orion did not want this to be one of those times. So she did the best she could to push aside the disobedient thoughts in her head, telling her to skip his class and wish for the downfall of her lab partner.
And for Orion Sinclair, the second-best distraction from the real world was the fictional ones brought to life by her rather vivid mind.
Orion sat quietly at the last desk in the library, her back hunched over and her face shoved into a book. Blue specs of ink smudged against the side of her hand, the margins littered with her thoughts. Jules sat across from her, chewing on her fingernails as if her life depended on it while she scampered to consume as much French as one could in thirty minutes.
"What does Quel temps fait-il mean again?" Jules asked, glancing up for the first time since they sat down.
Orion pursed her lips, scouring her brain for the answer. "Uh...I think it means 'what is the weather like."
