I smelled like him.
He smelled good. It kinda made me want to hug myself.
I stripped off my uniform and took a bath, washing the scent away.
Time to study.
Halfway through, my phone rang. It was my colleague from work.
"Hi," I answered.
"You free?" she asked.
"Why?"
"I got a night shift. The girl who was supposed to take it called in sick."
"Where?"
"I'll send you the location."
By 3 a.m., I crawled back into bed. Maybe I should stop taking these night shifts. The second my head hit the pillow, I was out. I wanted to take another bath, but I was too fucking tired.
I can't wait for college—can't wait to get a decent apartment and finally move out of this rat hole.
The next morning, I woke up feeling surprisingly better. Brushed my teeth, took a bath, did my hair, threw on my uniform, socks, and shoes. All ready to go. I made a fruit salad for breakfast—even though right now I'd kill for some meat. Can't be broke and picky.
I'll go grocery shopping today.
The walk to school was hell. I almost did my happy dance when I saw the school come into view. I still remember my happy dance?
Moon Goddess, I know damn well you don't like me, but please make today better than yesterday. How much more suffering can one girl take?
And I know you thought you ate by sending me a mate, but you didn't—so take him back where he came from and send me money instead.
Now that I've said my little prayer, I feel so much better. I should pray more. I walked into that school building feeling a way I haven't in a long time.
I may look like shit from only three hours of sleep, but I feel like rich people shit—the kind that gets flushed in fancy toilets. Maybe even one of those self-flush ones.
Why the fuck am I thinking about shit? Other people's shit at that. Welp, time to go to class and change the mood.
I went from class to class feeling great. For some reason, I felt calm today. Did the Moon Goddess finally come through? Best of all—I hadn't seen Rowan all day.
I walked into my last class before lunch, and I spoke too fucking soon. The moment I stepped in, something felt… off. Not bad. Just different. The air was warmer. Softer. Like it wrapped around me. Like what I'd been feeling all day, but more intense—in a good way.
I slid into my seat, arms crossed tight, trying to ignore how Rowan was staring daggers into my back. Ever heard of being discreet? Damn.
Soon his posies joined in too. Just great. Must be nice, not having to pay attention in class. I don't have that luxury. I don't have any luxury. How sad.
I raised my hand. "Excuse me, miss, can I go to the bathroom?"
"Sure," she said.
I got up and took the hall pass. Finally, some peace of mind.
I walked into the bathroom, did my business—bet y'all thought I was lying. I actually had to pee.
I came out of the stall, washed my hands, turned to leave—and bumped into a girl.
"Oh, sorry," I muttered.
"Just watch where you're going next time," she snapped before pushing past me.
Well, I guess I'm taking my sorry back. Bitch. I can't stand assholes like her—met too many of them for one lifetime.
I walked back in a not-so-great mood. Rowan's scent did its thing, and I calmed down. He has his uses.
I walked out of that class the second time, excited for food. I headed to my locker to drop off my books before I was attacked by… what's his face?
What was his name again? The tall, skinny one. Calvin? No, that's not right. Oscar? I think that's it.
"Hi. It's me, Oliver," he said.
Ohhhhh. Oliver. I could've sworn he said Oscar. Oh well.
"And it's me, Seren," I said, closing my locker.
"Yeah, I remember you," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. And I remember you too.
"What do you want, Oliver?"
"Oh, nothing. Just being nice since you're new."
"Uh-huh." Did I like Oliver? Nahhhhh. But today's a good day. He's being nice, so I'm going to be nice too.
"Well, I'm going to the cafeteria. You can join me," I said.
He smiled so damn brightly, I had to look away.
We walked hand in hand to the canteen.
Kidding. Kidding.
I don't know how long it's been since I touched someone willingly.
The Moon Goddess really did her thing—Olly over here has homemade lunch. Like a whole lot. And he was practically begging me to have some.
Just my luck.