Page 3 of The Bleak Beginning

My father kicks my foot, and I can’t help but scowl. He meets my expression with a stern look, furrowing his brow, a hard line appearing across his mouth.

Maxwell’s eyes narrow, and for a moment, I think I see a flicker of amusement in them before it’s quickly extinguished. “I assure you, Miss Prescott, our policies are quite modern. They’re designed to create a focused learning environment, free from distractions.”

I open my mouth to argue further, but my dad speaks up before I can. “I apologize for my daughter’s behavior, Chancellor Maxwell. She’s still adjusting to the idea of transferring schools.”

Maxwell nods, her steely gaze softening slightly as she turns to him. “I understand. Many students find the transition challenging at first. But as you are well aware, Altair University’s reputation for excellence is well-earned.”

I slouch in my chair, crossing my arms over my chest. My father shoots me another warning glance before turning back to Chancellor Maxwell.

I can’t help but scoff under my breath. Excellence, sure. If by “excellence” they mean forcing conformity and crushing individuality.

Maxwell’s eyes snap back to me, her gaze piercing. “Is there something else you’d like to add?”

I’m about to unleash a scathing retort when my father’s hand clamps down on my arm, his grip tight enough to make me wince. “No. She doesn’t,” he says firmly. “Isn’t that right, Alex?”

I grit my teeth, fighting the urge to yank my arm away. “Right,” I mutter, avoiding Maxwell’s eyes.

“Excellent,” she says, her tone dripping with false sweetness. “Now, let’s discuss your class schedule and extracurricular activities.”

“I’ll pass on the extracurriculars,” I say, unable to keep the sarcasm from my voice. “I wouldn’t want to distract myself from all that focused learning.” I didn’t come here to make friends; I could have done that at my previous college if I wanted. All I needed were my plants, that was enough for me.

My father’s grip tightens further, and I bite back a yelp. Maxwell’s eyes narrow dangerously, but she maintains her professional composure.

“Extracurricular activities are a requirement at Altair,” she says coldly. “They foster teamwork, leadership, and a well-rounded education. I’m sure we can find something suitable for your…unique personality.”

“Perhaps the debate team?” my father suggests, his voice strained with forced cheerfulness. “Alex is good at speaking her mind.”

The sound of the grandfather clock cuts through the tension in the room, momentarily distracting Maxwell. She glances down at the watch on her wrist, her lips pursing.

With a frown, she declares, “We’ll have to finish our discussion of our rules tomorrow.” Wait, what? There was more? And on top of it all, she says, “Luckily, I planned ahead and scheduled time at 9:00 AM.” My eyes widen.

“Nine in the morning? On a Sunday?” I sputter, incredulous. “You can’t be serious.”

Maxwell’s lips curve into a thin, humorless smile. “I assure you, Miss Prescott, I never kid when it comes to time. At Altair, we believe in maximizing every moment for educational growth. Weekends are no exception.”

I open my mouth to protest, but my father’s iron grip on my arm reminds me to hold my tongue. I settle for a glare that could wilt flowers.

“Wonderful,” he says, his voice strained. “Alex will be there promptly at nine. Won’t you?”

I nod stiffly, my jaw clenched so tight I can hear my teeth grinding.

“Perfect,” Maxwell declares, rising from her chair. “Let’s not waste any time; we’ll gather your belongings, say your farewells, and then I’ll lead you to your room.”

I can hardly contain my excitement at the opportunity to leave this stifling room.

“I’ll get a head start grabbing my bags,” I offer eagerly.

Maxwell nods curtly, and I practically bolt from the room, my father’s grip finally loosening as I slip away. The sky outside had taken on a deep, inky hue, the last tendrils of sunlight disappearing beyond the horizon, leaving the world in shadow and quiet.

A gentle breeze brushes against my skin, bringing with it the sensation of coolness and relief from the heat of that stuffy office. The temperature has dropped, leaving a slight chill on my skin, but I don’t mind. Crickets and other night creatures had begun their symphony, humming along with the faint sound of water crashing off in the distance.

I enjoy my limited time alone, closing my eyes and taking a deep breath, leaning my back against the side of our vehicle.

The pine trees emit a strong, earthy scent that fills the air, reminiscent of fresh-cut wood and wilderness. The water carries a crisp, refreshing aroma, laced with hints of algae and minerals. The smell is strong and pungent. Before, I’d only had a tease of the scent from the cracked windows on the drive.

This scent was euphoric.

My serenity is suddenly interrupted by a sharp flick and the faint sizzle of something hitting my skin. It happens again, but this time I don’t feel it until it burns through the fabric of my hoodie.

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