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“I thought I knew what I wanted.” Politics, Philosophy and Economics at St. Camford’s. That well-trodden path from the hallowed halls of Lochkelvin — or at least, that’s what it appeared to be as an outsider. But then I actually came here, and discovered that the hunger for success that other students bare with gleaming sharp teeth is nowhere to be found inside me.
“I don’t get how we’re supposed to justknowwhat we want to do for the rest of our lives.”
My gaze slides onto Li and Arabella, who have already pulled their timetables from their bags to make a note of the open day. Probably already forming a list of questions to ask lecturers. “Others do. Must be some kind of magic.”
“Devilry, more like, considering the people who always seem so sure of themselves.”
“True.” I wonder about the other chiefs — Rory had always been adamant about enrolling at St. Camford’s, the best of the best. But with Luke now desperate to keep a low profile, will the chiefs even be together this time next year? I’ve noticed nowadays that the future isn’t spoken about much; the chiefs seem to live each day as it comes, hoping to survive day by day. It reminds me of my first year here.
“Knowing for certain what you want to do with your life and bulldozing everyone else in your way,” I murmur, feeling petty as my gaze lingers on Arabella. “It’s probably an extension of their sociopathic behavior.”
Danny nods. “That must be it.” He pauses. “It’s notuswho have the problem, being all confused and mixed-up.”
“Definitely not,” I agree solemnly, meeting Danny’s eyes, and both of us break into big, stupid grins. “I think it’s only right to question things. Where you should be in life, where you want to go. Adjust and readjust when necessary. Because what happens if you’re so focused on achieving something, casting aside more suitable alternatives, and when you succeed, you find out that it’s not for you? All that time spent chasing something you ultimately don’t want, when you could have been trying out new things instead.”
“It’s on-brand for Arabella at least. I don’t think she’s open-minded enough to ever consider an alternative. It’s her way or the highway.” Danny scribbles idly on the list of names who’ve signed up for badges. “Did you hear there’s gonna be a career adviser, too? Next week, apparently.”
I nurse my temples. Career advice and now university open days — adulthood is starting to feel like a vast, impending black hole, with every kind of responsibility whirling closer and closer to me. I’m on a conveyor belt that’s suddenly picking up speed and, in my panic — because I did not consent to this uptick in pace — I want the helloff.
“I don’t even think Iwanta career,” Danny mumbles, his tone bordering on sulky. “I just want to lounge in the sun and read cool books and be with the people I care about.” His scribbling turns more aggressive. “But you’re not supposed to want that. They hammer it into you here — one lesson is worth hundreds of pounds, anyone would be grateful for your place here, blah-blah-blah, your time hereliterallycosts money, and you’re expected to recoup the costs by being a high-flying achiever, the chief exec of some huge international conglomerate, where you work a thousand hours a week and fresh air is a novelty. That’s Lochkelvin success, apparently.”
“You can make your own success,” I say, grasping hold of this idea because I so badly need it to be true. Even if Ididmiraculously succeed in enrolling at St. Camford’s, I still have no clue what I’d want to do after my degree. Attending university only pushes the boulder uphill for another few years. At some point, everything has to stop, the conveyor belt must come to an end, until I’m left holding a boulder that’s probably gonna roll back and flatten me due to my interminable indecision. “I’ll be successful and you can live with me.”
Danny grins at me. “That’s way too modern for Lochkelvin.”
“I’m serious,” I say, though I’m smiling. “I don’t know what I’m going to do with my life — but I know I’m going to do it on my own terms.”
“Cute,” Arabella’s voice drawls behind me, and instantly my jaw clamps shut and my teeth begin to grind. “You may wish to do things on your own terms, but you do realize laws and rules exist for a reason, yes? For example…” She points at the glittering crown on Danny’s lapel. “Thosearen’t regulatory badges,” Arabella sniffs. “They should be confiscated as a violation under the misuse of uniform act in the student handbook.” She turns her pointer finger to me, her eyes narrowing at the tiny badge on my blazer. “You too, Jessa. We all need to dress the same otherwise people will mistake you for Head Girl.”
“No one’s forgotten who the Head Girl is,” I tell her in tired exasperation. “You’ve made real sure of that.” Still, I wonder if that’s true — despite Arabella’s arrogant bragging for weeks on end about her new position, maybe she’s genuinely troubled that, now I’m one of the chiefs, I have more authority among the students than she does.
Arabella’s existence now infuriates me on a personal level as much as an instinctive one. I haven’t been able to venture down to the chiefs’ dorm once since her pointed warning, and now we have to resort to snatched kisses in corridors and secret after-hours caresses in the library. I want the luxury of abed. Arabella’s the worst kind of girl — a cunt-blocker.
“Ifeveryone’swearing a badge, then it’s not as special when the badges are presented exclusively to the Head Boy and Girl.”
“My God, Belly, will ye just bore aff?” I can’t take much more of Arabella, so I’m relieved to see Finlay strolling behind her. “You actually still chattin’ shite about badges?Get a fuckin’ life.”
She ignores Finlay. “Those badges,” she says instead, squinting down at the gold pin on my lapel. “I see it’s a crown. Where have they come from?” I notice Danny subtly curl his gold-flecked fingers beneath the cuff of his blazer. “Is this some kind of coordinated propaganda on behalf of the — ahem,so-called— bonny prince? Because political statements aren’t welcome at Lochkelvin — you know that — and you could very well receive detention for it.”
“No, Belly, it’s actually a pair o’ upside-doon vampire fangs tae signify we’re Team Vampire,” Finlay drawls. “Danny-boy, fix yer badge the right way up.”
Danny shoots him a puzzled look but goes along with it anyway, hastily turning the crown upside-down before Arabella notices his stained fingers. “Big fan of vampires. Yep.”
“Especially ones with gold teeth?” Arabella asks tartly.
“The flashier, the better.”
Arabella shakes her head, looking supremely irritated. “You’re all crazy. There ispridein wearing a badge. It’s an honor to have one’s achievements recognized, as well as having the increased status and responsibility, andyou’re taking that away from me.” She pauses, breathless for a second, her eyebrows sloping severely, before adding, “And Rory. I doubt he’d stand for this ludicrous display, either.”
None of us mention that Rory had been one of the first to fasten the little crown to his blazer. In fact, it takes pride of placeabovehis Head Boy one.
“Ye care so much about this daft wee badge,” Finlay says sympathetically, “I’d almost understand if ye actually did anythin’ decent wi’ the so-called power ye’ve been granted. Even Rory disnae gie this much o’ a crap about it.”
“Because he never had to fight tooth and nail to get it! It was handed to him on a silver platter!”
“So dae somethin’ wi’ it, then. Use yer new superpowers for good and show Rory up. I’m sure ye’ve mair than a few ideas rattlin’ around in there on how tae improve Lochkelvin, aye?”
Arabella seems struck by Finlay’s comment. “I can do good,” she mutters, “and I don’t needyourapproval, either.” Her gaze turns speculative as she considers. I don’t know what Finlay has planned, but I’m almost nervous — does Arabella really needmorebelief in herself as the almighty of this school? “But no. Idohave some ideas I could start putting to good use…” She gazes thoughtfully down at our badges. “Uniforms, for one… it should be easy enough… and it’d look ever so good on my application for St. Camford’s…”
Although I don’t understand it, I don’t miss the sharp gleam in Finlay’s eyes or the slow smile that spread across his face.
