Chapter 43 43
She linked her arm through mine and practically dragged me toward the front desk. An older woman with severe grey hair and bifocal glasses looked up, her expression one of practiced patience.
“We’re here to submit our acceptance forms!” Mandy announced brightly, placing her own envelope on the counter.
I followed suit, sliding my folder across the polished wood. “Good morning,” I said, my voice quieter.
The woman took the envelopes, barely glancing at us. “Names?”
We gave them. She nodded, her movements efficient as she opened them, checked the signatures, and began tapping on her ancient-looking keyboard. “Processing. It will take a few days for full registration to be complete. You’ll receive your student IDs and course schedules by email.”
Mandy held onto my arm, grinning from ear to ear. I could feel her vibrating with happiness beside me. It was infectious, and for a moment, my own anxiety eased.
Then, remembering the most crucial, looming question, I leaned a little closer to the high desk. “Um, excuse me? I had a question about… accommodation. The on-campus dorms. Are there any spaces left? I’m very interested.”
Mandy’s grip on my arm tightened. She looked at me, her expression shifting to one of surprise and maybe a little hurt, as if I’d just rejected her all over again. She gave my arm a small, pointed shake, as if to say, ‘Hello? My offer is still right here!’
But the Registrar didn’t notice our silent exchange. She didn’t even look up from her computer screen. She just sighed, a sound of deep, professional weariness. “Dormitories?” she said, her voice flat. “No. They’ve been full since last semester. Waiting list is a mile long.”
My heart sank. “Huh? But…”
She finally glanced at me over the rim of her bifocals. “The only option for new students now is off-campus housing. Private rentals. You’ll have to look for something yourself.” She turned back to her screen, her tone final. “And make sure it’s close. The college has a strict punctuality policy. No exceptions for traffic. So I’d advise finding a place within a 30 to 45-minute commute. Any longer, and you’ll be facing penalties.”
My expression must have dropped completely, because the Registrar gave me one last, pitying glance before focusing back on her keyboard. What was I supposed to do now?
Find an apartment in the city? With what money? My mother’s ‘support’ clearly didn’t extend to funding a city lifestyle she's not in full support of. The panic started as a low buzz in my ears.
The woman finished whatever she was doing, stamped our forms with a loud thwack, and handed us back our copies. “Good luck,” she said, not sounding like she meant it.
The second we stepped out of the stuffy office and into the bright hallway, Mandy whirled on me. She grabbed both my shoulders, her face earnest.
“Hey! See? There’s no other option left for you! The universe is literally closing every other door!” Her voice dropped to an excited whisper. “I won’t let you stay in some shady, overpriced uncomfortable apartment. Come on, Arielle. Just accept it. Move into the Dead Moon Pack. Better yet, live in the packhouse. With us.”
“No, I…” I started, my mind racing for any alternative, any excuse.
“Wait, I know!” she said, her eyes lighting up with an idea. “I’m sure you’re worried my uncle will refuse. But he’s here! Right now! You can talk to him yourself!”
“What?” The word shot out of me, too loud.
“Yes! He dropped me off this morning. I think he has a meeting with the Chancellor or something about pack donations.” She pointed vaguely down the long, bustling hallway. “His office is that way.”
“Why?” The question came out before I could stop it—a stupid, thoughtless blurt. Why was he here? Why did his presence feel like it was stalking me?
I quickly shook my head and waved a hand. “Forget it. It doesn’t matter. I’m not asking him.”
“Just wait right here!” Mandy said, already backing away, a determined set to her jaw. “I’ll go get him! It’ll take two minutes, and you can talk to him face-to-face! It’ll be fine!”
“No, wait—!” I called, but she was already gone, disappearing into the flow of students with a flash of her blonde curls.
Panic, cleaner and sharper than before, seized me. I turned and looked frantically the other way down the hall. I just have to leave. Right now. I would take the side exit, the one that led to the smaller parking lot. If I hurried, I could be in a taxi and halfway home before Mandy even found him.
I didn’t run—that would draw attention—but I hastened my steps, my boots clicking a rapid, desperate rhythm on the polished floor. My head was down, my focus on the exit sign glowing at the far end of the corridor.
I took a sharp turn around a corner, my mind already in the taxi, already planning what to tell my mother…
And I plowed straight into someone.
The impact was solid, unyielding. I bounced off, stumbling backward. A folder full of papers I hadn’t even realized I was still clutching flew out of my hands, pages scattering across the floor like oversized confetti.
A low, irritated grunt came from the person I’d hit.
“What the heck,” a familiar, hoarse voice said, the words not a question but a statement of pure, annoyed disbelief.
My gaze, mortified, travelled up from the mess on the floor—past polished black shoes, past tailored trousers, past a sleek grey coat—and landed on the face of the person I’d just barreled into.
Alpha Aeson looked down at me, his hazel eyes sharp with irritation, a single, wayward sheet of my acceptance letter stuck to the toe of his shoe.