BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!
Something shrieked in my ear, and for a split second, I thought the Moonveil fire alarm was going off. Then a pillow slammed into my face.
"Maeve! Your alarm has been going off for five minutes!" Freya's voice was sing-songy but laced with mock irritation. "It's almost eight, girl. Get your butt out of bed."
Almost eight.
I shot up so fast I nearly headbutted her. "WHAT?!"
My phone was vibrating violently on the nightstand, the bright red 7:20 a.m. glowing on the screen like it was mocking me.
"Shit! Shit, shit, shit!" I scrambled out of the warm cocoon of my blanket and ran straight to the bathroom, nearly tripping over my suitcase. "Why didn't you throw water on me?!"
"Because I like you, and I'm not cruel," Freya teased, flopping back onto her bed with a dramatic sigh. "Besides, I'm running on maybe four hours of sleep thanks to you."
I paused mid-step. "Hey! You kept asking questions too!"
We had spent nearly the entire night talking, curled up on our beds like old friends, trading stories about everything and nothing. I'd confessed that I was here on a full scholarship, and Freya had whistled, impressed.
"Wow, so you're one of the rare ones who actually earned a place here," she'd said, grinning. "You must be really smart. Most of these rich brats would die before sitting through an exam."
Her honesty had made me laugh. I'd learned that her father was a history professor at Moonveil, "which is probably why they let me in," she'd joked, and that she'd grown up roaming these halls.
The memory made me grin now, even as I panicked. "You know, it's your fault too! You distracted me last night with all your insane Moonveil gossip."
"You begged for it," Freya called through the door with a laugh. "Don't blame me for your own curiosity."
"What do you even have at eight? We're not late unless it's something serious."
I turned the shower on full blast and jumped in, the icy spray making me shriek. "Ethics and Society!" I yelled over the sound of rushing water. "I think!"
Freya snorted. "Ah, nice. We're in the same one." Her voice floated lazily through the door. "Relax. We've got plenty of time. I'm already dressed."
I groaned. Of course, she was.
Meanwhile, I was frantically shampooing my hair like my life depended on it, as though our Professor was going to banish me from Moonveil for being late.
By 7:30 a.m., I was back in our room, dripping water on the polished wooden floor. "What do I wear?!" I panicked, grabbing the nearest outfit from my closet.
"Not that," Freya said immediately, eyeing the wrinkled hoodie and jeans I'd pulled out. She was perched on the edge of her bed, already fully dressed in a plaid skirt paired with black fishnets and chunky sneakers. Her soft, oversized cream sweater made her look like some kind of rebellious model straight out of a magazine.
"Uh," I hesitated. "What's wrong with it?"
"Maeve. You're starting at Moonveil Academy. The girls here treat the hallways like catwalks. Do you want to look like a tourist on laundry day?"
I groaned. "I'm not trying to win a fashion show!"
"Just… pick something cute. Something that says, 'Yes, I'm new, but I have taste.'" Freya smirked, twirling a strand of her fiery red hair around her finger.
With no time to argue, I threw on my black pleated skirt and a tucked-in soft grey t-shirt with a cropped black jacket. Not perfect, but it would have to do. I grabbed my bottle of body cream and rubbed it into my legs like I was in a race, nearly slipping when I stood back up.
"Lip gloss?" Freya asked, tossing me a tube.
"Uh, yes. Wait, where's mine?" I frantically dug through my bag, knocking my phone to the floor with a clatter.
"You're hopeless." She crossed the room and dabbed some of her gloss onto my lips. "There. Emergency makeover complete."
"Thanks, Mom," I said sarcastically, though I really did appreciate it. I ran my fingers through my still-damp hair and grabbed my small black crossbody bag, tossing my phone and notebook inside.
By 7:45 a.m., Freya was lounging by the door, scrolling on her phone like she had all the time in the world. "You ready?"
I shoved my feet into my sneakers and tied the laces at lightning speed. "As ready as I'll ever be."
She arched a brow. "You sure you didn't forget anything? Pen? Notebook? Dignity?"
I glared at her as I slung my bag over my shoulder. "Shut up."
"Damn," she said with a teasing grin. "The scholarship girl's got some spice."
"You better believe it," I smiled, still catching my breath.
~
The moment we stepped out of our dorm, my nerves came back tenfold. The hallway was alive with students, and I couldn't help but notice how put together they all looked. Every single one of them seemed dressed like they'd stepped out of an influencer's lookbook, perfect hair, polished nails, designer shoes.
I tugged self-consciously at my skirt.
"Stop," Freya said under her breath, linking her arm with mine as we made our way down the hallway. "They're staring because you're new, not because you look bad. Trust me, Maeve, your grey eyes and dark brown hair are killing it. It's giving mysterious queen energy."
I felt my cheeks heat. "You're just saying that."
"Nope." She flashed me a grin. "You're a stunner. They'll figure that out soon enough."
We made our way out of the dorm, crossing the massive courtyard.
The campus looked so good it made my jaw drop. Students were already walking in the same direction, their crisp outfits and polished shoes glinting in the sunlight as if this were all perfectly normal to them.
I tried not to gape, but Freya laughed at me. "You're doing that open-mouth thing again."
"Sorry! It's just… wow," I whispered. "This place looks like it belongs in a movie."
"Wait until you see the South Wing library," she said. "It has a glass dome ceiling. Total royalty vibes."
We weaved through the crowd, my sneakers squeaking on the stone. I was clutching my phone like it was a life raft. 7:50 a.m.
"Oh shit," I muttered. "We're going to be late."
"We won't," Freya said, walking at a perfectly calm pace. "Trust me. We'll make it."
Freya walked with the confidence of someone who'd grown up here. And, well, she had. Her dad, Professor Callum Vance, was one of Moonveil's most respected history professors. Everyone I passed seemed to know her, waving or greeting her like she was royalty.
Meanwhile, I couldn't stop gawking at everything.
A group of girls in coordinated silk blouses and skirts whispered behind their manicured hands as we passed. I heard one of them mutter something that sounded like "scholarship."
I kept my head high anyway. Freya glanced at me and rolled her eyes. "Ignore them. They'll get bored eventually."
"I feel like I'm wearing a big neon sign that says 'Doesn't Belong Here,'" I whispered.
"Maeve. If anyone gives you crap, I'll fight them. You're with me now, and I have a reputation."
That made me grin despite my nerves. "Oh, so you're dangerous?"
"Extremely," she said with a wink.
We reached the large wooden doors of the East Lecture Hall just as the bell chimed. I exhaled in relief. "We made it."
"See?" Freya smirked, opening the door. "Never doubt me."