Room 210, Monday After Classes

[smilestopscars]

So far, Ezra's new term was off to a great start. The picnic had been very good to him. Very good. Stellar, even. It had been a great reminder of just how unbelievably attractive this island was, and why it was worth sticking around even though he had to frequently drive back up to Boston for all his Coterie business

Comments

[rebelseekspizza]

Dante's first class had been weird as hell, and he'd woken up early this morning from his second consecutive night of his overdeveloped fight-or-fight instincts kicking in at the worst possible time. The longer nothing happened, the more he was expecting it to, and by now the tension was kicking in.

So obviously he was going to have to vent it somehow, right?

He gave the door a lazy knock and leaned his shoulder against the doorway. "So," he said conversationally, "They weren't lying about this island being a little fucked up."

[smilestopscars]

"They never are," Ezra told him, barely keeping the smirk off his face as he glanced up over the edge of his gossip rag. "Fucked up is our specialty, darling."

[rebelseekspizza]

"The teachers ever go crazy around here?" Dante asked.

Not the topic he wanted to stay on for very long, but still. Relevant. And shit.

[smilestopscars]

"Depends on the teacher." Ezra pushed himself up on his elbows some, letting the magazine fall on his stomach. "Have you met Pinkie yet?"