Zephyr's Epiphany Part 4 – The Real War begins

Thank God, Epiphany breathed a sigh of relief as she scrutinized both of their class schedules.

It was certainly risky, as the likelihood of Zephyr suddenly stomping into their room was high.

The only class they shared was French.

She was mildly surprised that her moody roommate had chosen Literature. She didn't seem the poetic type. Come to think of it, Zephyr didn't seem to be the artsy or academic sort, which formed the two main classes of students in school.

Heart palpitating, she quickly rummaged through Zephyr's desk drawer, she came across a thick folder.

Almost nervously, she flipped open the cover, and espied countless copies of songs and poetry.

Wow, the poetry seemed to be written by Zephyr herself and not just carbon copies from famous poets. Her style was simply amazing.

Oh no, she's coming. Zephyr's confident footsteps tapped out a brisk staccato on the corridor outside. Detective work would have to wait.

Frantically, Epiphany stuffed everything back into the drawer, seconds before Zephyr stormed in.

Plastering a nonchalant look on her face, she picked up the novel lying on her bed and pretended to be engrossed in it.

" I hate her, I hate her, I hate her!" Zephyr paced the room in a fury.

"Wow, some excellent vocabulary you have there", Epiphany lowered her book with a sardonic smile.

"She should never have sent me to this stupid school, we aren't even allowed to dye our hair, for goodness' sake."

Curiosity got the better of Epiphany. "Who?"

"Like you care, and as if I would waste my time satisfying your nosiness." With an air of superiority, Zephyr flicked her hair and sunk into her bed.

Seeing the offended look on Epiphany's face, she sighed audibly and relented.

"It's my mum, okay, I didn't want to come here. All she wants is to get me out of the new house so her boyfriend of the month can bunk in."

"What's your reason for studying here?"

"I..I got a scholarship." Bad memories of her home life flashed into her mind, and Epiphany immediately closed up.

Sensing her change of attitude, Zephyr decided to shut her big mouth up for once.

" So, see you in French." With a half-hearted wave, Zephyr pulled on her black knapsack and closed the door.

The door re-opened seconds later, with her peeking in and grinning slyly, warning Epiphany to be on her guard during French. Apparently, Madamoiselle Natalia was a serious spitter.

Running a comb through her thick hair, Epiphany sighed.

She hated being away from home. As much as it comforted her to know that she was far away from her father, she felt guilty at abandoning her mother.

Recalling her mother's parting words, a tiny tear escaped from her eye, falling onto her neat blazer. The rest ensued almost naturally.

"Don't worry about me, dear. You know both of us want you to be happy, even though your dad may not show it. You deserve the scholarship, so leave without any regrets."

If only her mother could see how terrifically delirious with joy she now was.


Glancing around, she did not derive the usual satisfaction at how right she was. She did not enjoy taking in pre-pubescent gangly boys with acne, nor did she marvel at how long they could fart.

C'mon, this is an arts academy, and the boys are behaving like a bunch of ten year olds?

She did note that there was this one boy with dark hair who caught her eye. His nose was buried in Edgar Allen Poe's poetry. Impressive.

Her resolution not to get involved with the opposite gender flew out the window. It's all in good fun, isn't it?

He winked at her upon noticing her looking at him, and she gladly reciprocated, feeling elated as if they shared a mysterious secret.

Zane. She sounded out this exotic name on her tongue, enjoying its sultriness.

The other girls in class seemed rather reserved, except for the prominent ruling class, who were this year's obvious "populars".

With sparkly lip gloss, stick straight figures and Barbie doll faces, they were clearly insecure teenagers.

Yet, all the other girls seemed to be staring wistfully at them, planning to copy every aspect of their appearance. Pathetic.

Mademoiselle sauntered into the class, just in time to prevent Zephyr from gagging right in those bimbos' faces.

She introduced herself in an austere yet comical voice. " I am Madamoiselle Natalia. I am a Frenchwoman, frrrrom France. Say it with me, Frrrrance. Ah, the beeyootiful city with the terrrrrific Eiffel Tower."

Zephyr stifled her laughter, as she observed the unlucky few who had to bear the brunt of Madamoiselle's aggressive R-rolling.

At this awkward moment, Epiphany flew in and greeted Madamoiselle apologetically. Flustered, she plopped into a seat all the way at the other side of the room.

Strange, her face appeared unusually blotchy and red. Could she have been crying?

Impossible, Zephyr knew from when she first saw her that she was one of those girls with perfect lives, not even falling prey to common disorders like anorexia.

However, she recalled how Epiphany seemed so uncertain at that simple question. Maybe there was more to her than meets the eye.

Zephyr did not know whether to be disappointed or happy. She decided on the former, as she already saw her enough as it was.

Imagine sitting next to that angelic creature. It would be infuriating to see Epiphany act like the teacher's pet.

Madamoiselle droned on endlessly, frequently erupting spit from her plump mouth.

Zephyr stole a glance at Epiphany. Surprisingly, she was not listening or taking notes. Instead, she was stealing glances at Zane.

I called dibs already, she felt like hissing.

Half-Japanese, half- Italian. Yum.

Usually, it occurred a bit later than now, but Zephyr knew that her first aim had been set. And she would do all she could to get what she wanted.