Page 7 of The Bleak Beginning

Chapter 2

Alex

Baarrrinnnngggg! Barinnnggg! Baarrrinnnngggg!

My hand blindly reaches out and slams down on the source of the heinous noise coming from the table next to my bed. I groan in frustration when I see that it’s 8:45 am. The alarm woke me up, and I sit up quickly, knowing exactly who is responsible for this intrusion. Chancellor Maxwell, with her obsession for punctuality, must have set the alarm on the bedside clock before I even arrived. Her relentless need for promptness would be the death of me, I swear.

I shake off the drowsiness and wipe the drool from my lips before getting out of bed and heading to the bathroom attached to my room. I splash some water on my face, but even after patting it dry, the dark circles under my eyes are still prominent. Today, I’ll have to rely on concealer to hide them. Glancing at the clock once more, I realize I don’t have enough time for a shower if I want to make it to Maxwell’s office by nine. So I quickly change into a different outfit from one of my suitcases, grab my phone, and rush out the door. Concealer will just have to wait until later.

If I showed up even a single minute late, I had a hunch that Maxwell would give me an earful. She might even track me down herself to give me a lecture on punctuality.

It was Sunday, so there were only a few students hanging around as I made my way to the main building. They didn’t pay any attention to me. Most of them were probably nursing hangovers or sleeping in. I wished I could do the same. A meeting to go over more rules and regulations sounded about as enjoyable as trying to guess what was growing on the walls of my building’s hallway. Just the thought made me shudder.

I may consider myself a lover of botany, but the only way I’d ever dissect that fungus is if I were drunk. A chill runs down my back at the thought.

I rush over to the admin building, making quick strides. The walk from last night had been straightforward, and now in the daylight, it was even more direct. I didn’t pay much attention to the main Altair building yesterday; my bad mood had clouded my perception. But in the daylight, it’s hard not to notice its size and grandeur, surpassing even the Prescott Dormitory. It seems tiny in comparison to this one.

The gothic structure looms tall and grand, with black stone walls and pointed arches. The windows were long and narrow, with intricate clear glass designs that cast a rainbow of shadowson the ground. It loomed over everything else like a dark, brooding giant as the towered turrets reached, piercing the sky. The main Altair building stands far above the thick pine trees that surrounded the campus.

I make my way inside. As I step into the office, a new text from Clara appears on my phone with a ding. My finger presses the open button, and the bright light of the screen illuminates my surroundings. Suddenly, I collide into someone. The person is holding a stack of papers that get tossed into the air, creating a chaotic cascade of parchment that resembles a flock of startled birds taking flight. “Shit!” A female voice hisses at me. “I didn’t see you coming.”

“I’m pretty sure there should be a concussion protocol for this kind of thing.” I say with a frown, rubbing at my arm where the papers hit me.

The girls face flushes in what I assume to be embarrassment before she bends down, her curly, honey-blonde hair concealing her like a curtain as she frantically picks up the scattered papers from the ground.

“I can never catch a break,” she huffs, mumbling to herself as she attempts to re-stack the mess. “Two hours wasted organizing these.”

I raise an eyebrow inquisitively as I hand her another small stack. “Did you really spend two hours on this? On a Sunday?”

She keeps her eyes glued to the ground, not acknowledging my comment. “I don’t have time to redo all of these by myself.” She sighs.

My words seem to go unheard as her attention is elsewhere. Just as I’m about to speak again, the door to Chancellor Maxwell’s office suddenly swings open, cutting off any conversation.

Maxwell’s imposing figure steps out, her perfectly tailored suit crisply pressed, and hair pulled back tightly as her chin dipsdown between us. Her gaze is stern and piercing as her lips pull into a scowl.

Maxwell questions, “What is the reason for this?”

I begin to explain how we accidentally bumped into each other, but am interrupted.

“The rules specifically state that solicitation or outside resources are not allowed on Altair property. Care to clarify why you were both picking up papers off the floor for…” Maxwell’s pointed toe lands on a paper, crumpling it slightly as she glances at the handout. “The museum’s torchlit tour next month?”

“I thought it would be interesting for students participating in this year’s games to learn about different methods of resource gathering during the Paleolithic Era.”

I glance at the blonde girl, confused by her explanation.

“Games?” I echo, confusion evident in my voice. “What games?”

My question goes ignored; Maxwell’s eyes narrow on the other girl. “You know very well that any extracurricular activities must be approved by the board. Especially those related to the games, Miss—”

“I understand, I understand,” the girl grumbles. “I get it, Chancellor.”

Maxwell’s nod is rigid as she shifts her focus back to me. “Miss Prescott, I believe we have a meeting scheduled. Let’s not waste any more time, I don’t wish to be here all night.” She scowls disapprovingly before briskly walking back into her office.

All night? It was barely morning.

“You better hurry; Maxwell will have a meltdown if she falls behind schedule,” the girl says. “Did you notice the vein bulging in her forehead when she went back inside her office?”

“I swear I saw smoke coming out of her nose,” I respond, and it elicits a chuckle from her.

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