Rival Roommates

14 ☁︎

Valentina
The alarm clock on my side blares for about the tenth time in two minutes, and I groan as I slam my hand against the top of it, a lame attempt to get it to shut up that only sends it flying across the floor. I roll off the bed with a sigh, wrapping the thin blanket around my body as I tumble to the floor, blinking my eyes open to check the time. I don't know what it is about fall, the coldness of the nights that makes it so much more enjoyable, wrapping warm and getting snug to enjoy a good nights sleep.

I don't care if I sound like a grandma, sleeping was the fucking best. My blurred vision finally clears, the wavy numbers on the clock finally straightening out. 8:15. 8:15? Fuck.
Scrambling off the floor, I strip off my clothes and aggressively tug on my uniform, stumbling around the room in a frenzy to hurry up. Lessons started in fifteen minutes, the walk to the building was five, and eating breakfast usually took me thirty. Guess I was learning on an empty stomach today.

Tying my hair back into a ponytail, I grab my bag and walk out of my room, taking an apple from the bowl on the coffee table and straightening my uniform out. My skirt found it easy to ride up every five seconds, especially as I run down the stairs of my building, not wanting to wait for the elevator. When I reach floor 17, I run out of breath, and catch my breathe whilst I press the button for it to arrive, panting heavily.

The elevator is empty at this time in the morning, so I'm free to quickly apply some mascara as it the lights click down each number, counting as we reach the last floor. As soon as the door opens, I bolt out of it and rush outside, the rush of cold air hitting my face as I speed towards my class, the school ground eerily quiet this time of the day as everyone is already settling into lesson. I wouldn't have made such an effort to be on time if I hadn't just been trying to prove our headmaster yesterday I was fit and responsible, capable of juggling a part time job with the load of schoolwork.

Given my history, it would easy. Punctuality seemed to be my only flaw to work on. I bite down on my apple as my run slows to a jog, exhaling as I chew on the apple, trying to fit in deep breaths at the same time. I hop on leg, trying to tie my laces whilst I jump towards the building's main doors, my mothers voice ringing in my head.
Tie your laces of your shoes, then you can run around as much as you want. You've already got two left feet, don't make life any harder for yourself, clumsy girl.

Her lessons still came to use, even 7000 km away from me. Couldn't escape her, it seemed. Setting my foot down, I shove the doors open as I hear the ring of the late bell come to an end. Fuck. Speeding down the corridor, I throw my tie around my neck, looping a messy hole through the fabric as I turn the corner nearing my classroom. I scramble for the correct room, pushing the door open as I skid to a halt, all eyes in the room swivelling to me as I make an awkward entrance.

Heat rushes to my face as I excuse myself, scurrying to my seat in an attempt to hide from all the peering eyes of unwanted attention and bury myself in my own skin. I squeeze past Amelie, who gives me a confused look, then taps at her watch like a disappointed mother whose child has skipped curfew. Mason snorts from behind me, clearly revelling in my tardiness, and another pair of watchful eyes burn into the back of my head. I fight the urge to turn back to see, not having faced him all morning, the washed up memories of last night still hazy and far.

Amelie passes me an aspirin with a knowing grin on her lips, and I silently thank her, grateful for the painkiller to ease my throbbing hangover. She knows me too well.

"Miss Alvarez, I would expect you to at least show up to my classroom presentable to make up for your lack of punctuality." The old, grey haired professor at the front started, squinting at me through the round frames of his glasses at the bottom of his nose.