Rebecca’s day had been a tad too weird for her liking. Generally all this moving around and insecurity was getting to her, nerves standing on end. She didn’t like it. The assembly earlier had been informal, and a tad worrying as well. As a woman who had been enrolled at first Arcana, then Noctrem, Rebecca had decent knowledge of the school differences, and she could just tell that this whole roommates-mess would be going south way too soon. Leo would’ve been better off changing them, but she supposed time was an issue too. She sighed, steadying the human sized punching ball she had been taking her frustrations out on, hugging it calmly. She’d gone down to the gym after the pop music from the student party going on had come to give her a headache. She wasn’t in a bad mood per se, but she was rather distracted and maybe a tad too pensive. She wasn’t the most social of people so instead of seeking out company, the female teacher had found her way down to her new favorite companion; the punching bag situated in the school gym. The only time she’d really ever find people to be around was Friday evenings.
Why Fridays? Well, those were the days Donny would leave her at her aunt’s to stay the night. Said aunt would always be passed out on the couch, and since she had been old enough to stop herself from being lonely on Fridays, she always had. Just one of the many twitches her brain did due to her past. She watched the red punching bag for a little while, before taking a few steps back, her body falling into that familiar stance; feet positioned about shoulder-width apart, left foot in front of the other, and her hands up near the sides of her face. Then, movements quick and practiced, Rebecca began a series; jab cross, stomp kick, jab cross, roundhouse kick, spinning back kick, jab cross… and so forth. The blonde kept right on going, her ponytail swinging wildly with every move.
The teacher’s outfit was starting to absorb the sweat caused by her kickboxing moves and she had already removed the jacket. It wasn’t even a complicated series, but Rebecca recognized that she was a bit out of practice.
That was the thing with kickboxing; it wasn’t something you
just did. You had to keep in perfect shape to keep up, and during their stay in the motel, Rebecca’s options had been rather limited. She had taken a run every morning, but she hadn’t been able to get near a decent punching bag, and she small ones boxers usually used would not do for kickboxing. Getting back at it felt amazing. Finally, after another ten minutes of constant jabs and kicks, the blonde, breathing heavily now, stopped, steadying the bag once more, a satisfied grin on her face, her body shining with sweat. “That’ll have to do for tonight,” she mused aloud, patting the punching bag before moving to pick up her jacket and sports bag. Then she padded into the dressing room, quickly washing herself down before throwing on
her bikini. She put her hair back up in its ponytail, picked up her things and made her way down to the indoor swimming pool; the one intended for academic usage. Mostly because that was the better one when it came to actual swimming instead of playing around.
Rebecca dropped her things by one of the chairs before taking a swan dive into the pool, her body soon moving in its usual swimming pattern, switching between butterfly, crawl, and backstroke. By now she was so used to her preferred form of exercise that her body had begun remembering the movements by itself, which meant her brain was completely relaxed as her legs and arms brought her back and forth between each far end of the pool. In the morning she figured her mind might finally be ready to do some actual work. Which would be an advantage considering the party going on. If she knew her students, and she did, she was going to have a lot of managing to do. Steven wasn’t going to be happy with her sending so many students his way, but hey, he could take that up with Leo or at least someone who actually cared.
Drake merely took a sip of his whiskey before nodding slightly, his eyes capturing hers, when Ashy began talking, almost starting to lecture her. He didn’t say anything, but really he thought it amusing that the girl considering him and Erin more than friends. They were less than friends. That was the thing. She was a chick he fucked. Why did everyone think that meant he considered the girl a friend? Was that how it worked for everyone, because it didn’t seem that way to Drake. Then again, some were probably lying about the “friends” part. Hell, a lot of people did folks they didn’t even know. Was it then so wrong of him to fuck a girl he knew, but didn’t necessarily care about? Drake didn’t personally think so, but then again, his morality was oftentimes a tad fucked up. Anyway, Ashy trailed of easily enough, the outrage ebbing from her pretty eyes. Ah, sweet success. Sometimes people were a bit
too predictable though. Especially little wallflowers like Ashleigh Fox. So easily manipulated by people who had even the slightest idea of what to do. This was child’s play to the male.
Slowly the look in her eyes changed, however, into something Drake recognized quite well. He couldn’t stop a seductive smirk from playing at his lips in response. So when Ashy asked him what he was doing to her, Drake chuckled easily, watching the familiar blush creep across her face. “Well,” he began, voice a seductive, dark purr, “that depends what you’re thinking of.” With that, he let his eyes do a tour of her body, just for effect, his smile growing once he reached her eyes again. At this point, the blonde dropped her gaze and Drake took the time to take a sip of his whiskey, feeling it glide its way down like silk. When the blonde looked back up, Drake smiled wryly. It was just too funny. She was going to check on Erin was she? Because Erin was her responsibility? That was bloody hilarious. “Well, you
do need it,” Drake teased when Ashy asked him to wish her luck on handling his sister and Erin, especially if the two were going to be at odds now. Suddenly Drake felt happy to be in a different House.
Drake’s eyes had turned to watching the scene between Lulu and Jackson when he felt someone take his drink from his hand. Eyebrows raised, he turned his gaze to the thief; Ashy. Who… was actually taking a sip, probably mostly as a demonstrative gesture, because she sure didn’t look like she was enjoying it… considering the minimal sip she had taken. So when she commented, he laughed. He had to say the move surprised him a little, which only made it funnier. Of course on top of the fact that she looked like a stubborn child trying to take a stand with a parent because she wasn’t getting her way and wanted to be more “grown up”. “If that’s your point,” he countered easily, teasing her again, “you should probably drink the whole thing.” She quickly made her excuses after that and hurried away from him, more or less running off. He laughed again, not able to help himself. It was simply too precious. He watched her walk for a little bit before remembering Lulu and Jackson. The two had seemed quite tense for a bit there. Lulu looking uncomfortable, Jackson looking miserable. Now Lulu was leaving McKenna.
What the hell? Was everyone going to be miserable messes today? His sister, Erin, Jackson and Lulu, and he’d briefly noted Zac storming off, leaving a very drunk Mo. Well, Max was managing his sister, apparently, Ashy was going to try and deal with Erin, he could tell Alli was with Mo, but that was it. Jackson was off to himself and probably wanted to stay that way right now, and Lulu… well… he let his dark eyes follow her, and quickly gathered she was heading upstairs… with both Jack D and his rum. Someone wanted to get pissed, huh? She wasn’t getting drunk alone, he soon decided. He actually wanted her company back, and he was growing curious as to what had just happened. The male took his time drinking the rest of his whiskey, also giving Lulu the time to calm herself down a bit. Once he finished his drink a while later, Drake put a bit of money on the counter; tips for the bartender, but kept the glass as he followed Lulu’s path to the living quarters. He was counting on her being in her own room, which… probably wasn’t the smartest thing to do when you were drunk, considering how the place had splinters everywhere.
As he made his way to Lulu and Alli’s room, he thought things over. What did he even want with Lulu? With a bit of alcohol comfortably coursing through his blood, he felt his mind clearing somewhat. He knew he wanted Lulu’s company, he knew he wanted to treat her well make sure she didn’t get herself hurt. He also knew that he wanted to kiss her. Badly. Concluding on this, he gathered he was probably pretty into the girl. They were strange emotions that he wasn’t used to, but part of him liked the way it made him feel when he was with Lulu. He ran a hand through his hair just as he turned a corner, making Lulu visible. What was she doing on the floor outside her room? As he got closer yet, his pace picking up, he noticed her crying and surprisingly… it sent a stabbing jolt through his heart. Though that feeling too, was new, Drake knew what it meant; seeing Lulu like this wasn’t something he ever wanted to again. She had his rum practically glued to her lips too.
Instead of saying something though, Drake gently pried the alcohol from her hands when he reached her. He put the bottle and his glass down a little bit away from them and squatted down in front of her before he moved his hands up to brush the blonde hair out of her now moist face. “Lulu, what the hell are you doing?” He asked her, worry shining in his voice, his dark eyes taking on a considerable glint of concern too. He didn’t even care to cover it up; he just wanted the girl in front of him to feel better. Seeing her like this was also hurting
him. He had no idea how to deal with any of this, but he was all she had right now, so he’d try. He was a piss poor excuse for a comfort, though, that much he knew, but maybe Lulu’s feeling for him would at least help him a little here. He moved both his thumbs up to wipe away her tears, looking into her eyes. “What happened?” The whole thing was disconcerting, because he had literally never cared when he had seen others crying. Never. Suddenly, just because it was Lulu, his heart was supposed to hurt with every beat?
If this was all there was to caring, why would anyone want it? Were people really slaves to their emotions this way?