Abbie and Mia were momentarily stunned by Briar’s sudden outburst, but they quickly sprang into action, rushing to help Lydia, who <b>was </b>clearly in pain and barely able to stand. “Lydia, you okay?” they asked, voices thick with worry.
“Briar, how could youy hands on her? That’s so low!” Abbie snapped, pointing an usatory finger at Briar.
“We were trying to talk to you like civilized people. You brush us off and start throwing punches the second you don’t like <b>what </b>you hear? Seriously, how could you be so rude?” Mia piled on, her tone sharp with indignation.
“My back hurts so bad,” Lydia whimpered, tears streaming down her face. She wasn’t faking it–Briar’s shove had left her rattled, her back throbbing like it was already bruising.
She thought to herself, ‘Is this Briar even a woman? What kind of girl hits that hard?‘
“Let’s take a look,” Abbie said, lifting Lydia’s shirt with Mia to check her back. Then, they gasped in unison.
“Oh my, your whole back’s red, and it’s turning purple in spots!” Abbie eximed, wide–eyed.
“This is serious! You need to go to the infirmary right now. What if something’s seriously hurt?” Mia added, her voice urgent.
“I’m reporting this,” Lydia said through clenched teeth, pointing at Briar in fury. “You think you cane in here, start fights, and walk away? I’m going to tell our advisor. You’ve crossed the line!”
Briar stood there, arms crossed, watching their melodramatic performance with a mix of amusement and disdain. When Lydia threatened to tattle, she shrugged. “Go for it. Take it straight to Mr. Goodwin. Maybe he’ll kick me out on the spot.”
She wasn’t scared of trouble or of escting it. These girls hade at her with their petty games, and Briar wasn’t about to let small–time scheming run her out of a ce like Shoneport University.
“You…you’ll regret this!” Lydia sputtered.
The trio could only re and bluster. They didn’t darey hands on her again–resorting to a catfight would only bring them down to her “level,” and they had too much pride for that. So they turned, helping Lydia limp away toward the infirmary, plotting their next move.
Briar watched them hobble off, leaning on each other like they’d survived a war. She smirked, shaking her head. “Pathetic.”
It was lunch break, and the dorm door had been wide open the whole time. The noise had drawn attention, but no one dared get too close.
As Lydia was dramatically escorted out, sobbing, a few nosy students lingered near Room 2015, peeking inside. They quickly spotted Briar- the star of today’s forum gossip–standing alone.
Briar had no interest in sticking around to be gawked at like some zoo exhibit. She locked the dorm door with a scowl and strode out, ignoring the whispers trailing behind her.
With time to kill before afternoon sses, she didn’t head back to theb. Instead, she slung her backpack over her shoulder and made her way to the campus gates, bound for her ce at Moonspring Estate. A quick nap sounded like the perfect way to shake off the morning’s
nonsense.
However<b>, </b>she’d barely drifted off for half an hour when her phone buzzed insistently.
The screen shed an unknown number. Groggy and annoyed, Briar silenced it without <b>a </b>second thought.
To her surprise, the caller was relentless, ringing again and again. By the fourth call, Briar’s patience was <b>gone</b>. <b>She </b><b>answered </b><b>with </b><b>a </b><b>growl</b>, “Hello? Who is this? You better have a good reason for this.”
<b>10:48 </b><b>Mon</b>, <b>11 </b><b>Aug </b><b>o </b>
Her sharp tone threw the caller off, and after a brief pause, a sweet, hesitant voice responded.
“Um, hello? Is this Ms. Briar Jennings from Shoneport University?”
Briar could tell her harsh greeting had rattled the girl. She shut her eyes, tamping down her irritation from being woken up. <b>“</b><b>Yeah</b><b>, </b>it’s me. Who are you, and what’s this about?”
She didn’t give out her number to many people, and the fact that the caller knew she was a Shoneport student suggested <b>it </b>was university
rted.
The morning’s drama shed through her mind, reigniting her frustration.
“I’m Arlene Moran, your advisor from the Medical Department,” the girl said, choosing her words carefully. “I’ve had reports about a conflict in Room 2015 this afternoon. Someone was injured. Could youe to my office to exin what happened?”
It was clear they’d tried finding her on campus and failed to reach her, so they just called her again and again.
Briar clenched her jaw, muttering under her breath, “This is such a hassle.”
“I’m sorry, what was that?” Arlene asked, not catching her words.
Briar’s sleepiness had been chased away by annoyance. “Fine, give me twenty minutes. I’m still at home.”
“Great, thank you. Just head to the infirmary when you get here,” Arlene said, sounding relieved before hanging up.
K
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