Twenty-Eight Chapter: Sick (3)

“Oh no, no, no, no, no!” Rebecca exclaimed.

“Wha-what happened?”

Surprised by Rebecca’s sudden outburst, Ember hurriedly asked her in a slight panic. At her call, Rebecca shifted her round, saucer eyes to her.

“It’s Kris …”

Seeing that look and her words made Ember wag her dainty hands in the air, urging her to spill them. A sense of foreboding ran down her back, hoping it wasn't bad news.

“Oh my god, stop looking at me like that and tell me what happened to Lead!”

With trembling hands and lips, Rebecca opened her mouth. “I, I, she …”

“...”

Gradually closing in, Ember focused on Rebecca’s mouth as if looking at it would hasten the process.

She loudly gulped, asking: “You?”

“She, I, did …”

“She did what?”

“She …”

“Just out with it!”

“I-I …”

Rebecca took one big breath and let out: “I didn't reply to Kris’ message last night!”

“Did something happen to Lead—what?”

“I didn’t reply to Kris’ message last night!” Rebecca repeated.

“...?”

Dumbfounded, Ember couldn’t help but wear a dumb look, staring dazedly at Rebecca …

After a few seconds, she rolled her eyes from all the wasted worry she briefly experienced. Feeling as if her worry were all for naught, she slumped on the table in defeat.

“You don’t need to repeat it, I heard you the first time …” Ember said spiritless, her words slightly muffled.

And here she thought the Lead had an accident or something … Or maybe fell in some carelessly left open manhole by a worker somewhere along the road and then had to be embarrassedly scooped up by the town guards under the gossipy gaze of the crowd!

… Which was something much worse than what Rebecca was currently fussing about and explained her missing presence!

“What should I do?” Rebecca quickly uttered, stressed at her unexpected blunder.

She fumbled about and wildly tossed on her seat, worrying about leaving a bad snobbery image to her friend. Rebecca was lightly hitting the table repeatedly and kicking her dangling feet on the chair.

“Ah, mou! What should I do, Ember!”

Rebecca slammed her hands on the table, leaning towards Ember with her shaky pink eyes.

Finally having enough of it, Ember also slammed her hands and said loudly: “Reply to her first, you idiot!”

“...!”

As realization set in, Rebecca let out an embarrassed laugh while shyly playing with her pink ends as she softly uttered akin to a mosquito occasionally buzzing near the ears.

“Oh … you’re right, I haven’t done that yet, hehe …”

Her gesture, though, reminded her of her previous action causing her to suddenly hiss and flap her hands in pain.

“Ah!”

Rebecca’s clamor also reminded Ember about her throbbing red hands. Mirroring her actions, Ember also caused a ruckus on their table.

“Ow, ow, ow, ow!”

“Ah!”

Two little gremlins, a pink and an orange one, took the attention of the other people in the class.

“They’re at it again,” a bespectacled woman said from the table nearest to the rambunctious group.

“Haha, at least there’s a show to look forward to every day,” a red-haired woman added to the side.

“Ugh, it hasn’t even been a week and they’ve already caused multiple scenes. I don’t even want to think about what will happen after a year. ”

“Don’t be too stiff about it. Learn to have fun and enjoy the free show, Irene.”

“If I wanted to have some fun, I’d go to Sax, not in college,” Irene said sarcastically, frowning a bit.

At that, the red-haired woman simply smiled and turned to the girl beside her.

“Don’t you agree with me, Felicia?”

“Hmm?”

A woman with brown copper hair and a pair of gentle eyes, who seemed to be in deep thought, turned at her call.

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Noticing her lost eyes, the red-haired woman asked curiously. “What’s the matter? Didn’t get enough sleep?”

In response, Felicia shook her head gently and said in an intrigued tone. “Nothing. Just met someone interesting.”

The red-haired woman’s eyes glinted in interest but decided to leave it for later. “Oh-ho, anyway, console your friend over here. I think she’s on her period. Too feisty and irritable.”

Burrowing her archy eyebrows closer, Irene, adjusted her glasses using her middle finger, subtly flipping her off. “Stop lying, Daria. Unlike you, I know when to separate school and fun. Not every place is for entertainment.”

Both Daria and Felicia laughed at the sight.

“That’s true, but at least leave them be. They’re not even getting in your way.”

“They do. That’s why I’m even complaining in the first place.”

Daria and Irene fought back and forth, expressing each of their feelings about the matter.

“... You’re annoying.”

“Shhh, don’t be noisy, quiet, quiet,” Daria shushed her, putting her fingers to her lips, as she said with a feigned frown and a teasing tone.

Hearing her deliberate voice, Irene lifted one side of her cheeks in irritation, glaring at her behind her glasses.

“Even if they don’t do anything, they’ll still receive a lot of attention so it doesn’t really matter,” Felicia suddenly interjected in their light quarrel.

“Hm?”

“Why?”

Irene and Daria expressed curiosity at her sudden words.

Gently leaning on her hands, Felicia recited evenly. “Rebecca Gayle, graduated top of her class, top-tier innocent looks, cute charms with a jolly personality, pursued by many handsome men and beautiful girls but remained single and focused on academics—a classic combination of the it girl.’”

As Felicia confidently listed, the two girls' eyes widened slowly from all the detailed information coming out of her mouth.

Their eyes, as if attracted by some unknown force, slowly flittered toward the pink-haired girl, who, currently, was still in a jittery mess.

“I mean, she’s pretty … I can agree to that at least but graduated top of her class? Seriously?”

“Gee, no wonder they say don’t judge the book by its cover, heh.”

Giving Daria a nasty side-eye, Irene ignored her and asked about the more important question.

“But where did you get all that and how did you know?”

Felicia answered naturally. “We were from the same high school.”

“Oh, so you know her then,” Daria added.

“Nope,” Felicia said cheerfully as she gently smiled, swaying her head to the side.

“So you mean to say … because she’s so pretty, smart, and popular, everyone at your school knows her?” Daria slowly said.

“Yes. It's probably just a matter of time before she becomes well-known and distracts our little Irene from being such a good student~,” Felicia teased.

“Hmm ….”

“Tsk.”

Daria hummed while Irene clicked her tongue in annoyance.

“If that Rebecca girl’s the only problem then, yes, their behavior still does matter. And even if she’s popular before, doesn’t mean she’ll be popular now. College is completely different from high school, Felicia,” Irene reasoned as she sneaked a glance towards the pink-haired lady.

“Of course, yes. But. That’s the thing, Rebecca’s not the only one,” Felicia smiled. “While listening in other people’s talk—”

“What a nasty hobby,” Daria chimed in with a snicker.

Felicia lightly smiled at Daria’s teasing remark and continued. “I heard some in our class talking about De Nayale and based on that, I’m pretty sure they were interested—which is natural, I mean even our Darling Irene was smitten, after all~”

“I wasn’t smitten. Stop twisting my words. I said she looks good and that’s all.”

Immediately, Irene, with her still scrunched brow, rapidly spit out words in her defense.

“You don’t have to be shy, it’s normal to have a crush~,” Daria said teasingly.

“Ugh, I can’t with you both.”

Looking at Irene defeatedly said with her annoyed face made the two gals laugh in amusement.

“Let’s stop talking about this. It’s not important and just infuriates me. I’d rather review today’s material than entertain you both. So I don’t want to hear any of their names whether it’s that Rebecca or De Nayale—”

Thud!

A series of stacked paper hitting the wooden podium in front cut off Irene’s words.

“Wassup, y’all! Are you done talking with each other? I’ve been standing here since earlier if you didn’t notice.”

The buzzing sounds of murmurs settled down from Professor Bridgett’s sarcastic words.

Scanning the whole room with her round dark pink eyes, she mirthfully nodded in satisfaction.

“Good. Now you're listening. Do you see this stack of papers?”

The professor's voice turned stern as she pointed at it.

“These are your papers from yesterday. And oh boy, was it torture to grade these pieces of crap!”

Despite her small stature, her thundering voice echoed loudly throughout the classroom.

“This is a lab report! I don’t know who wrote this among you idiots, but I don’t need a whole ass paragraph, just for you to tell me that it reacted!

“This is not an essay competition so throw all that flowery bull—useless things on your paper!

“And do you really think I wouldn’t notice some of you half-assing your work?

“You don’t even know the name of the equipment you’re using! Such a simple thing …”

Professor Bridgett, groaning in disappointment, ranted non-stop and pointed out all the pathetic mistakes they made on their lab report. Her frustration was evident in her increasing voice as she continued to shout and lecture her students.

“... No, it was my mistake to raise my expectations at the beginning … Thankfully—”

Creaaak.

The sound of the door slowly opening interrupted Professor Bridgett’s lecture session indefinitely.

Irritated at the unexpected interruption, Professor Bridgett glared at the figure standing at the door.

However, her brows shot up in surprise when she realized who it was.

A clearly lethargic and weakened slender figure came into view. Her fringe was slightly sticking to her forehead from all the sweat she accumulated from climbing up the stairs, obvious from her heavy panting and half-lidded eyes.

“Haa … I’m sorry, haa, I’m late, Professor …”

After saying that, rather than berating her, Professor Bridgett just hesitantly called her in concern.

“ … De Nayale?”

Gulping arduously, De Nayale answered weakly. “Yes?”

“You look like you’re about to drop dead at any second now,” Professor Bridgett uttered briskly.

“... I’m fine, Professor.”

“You don’t look fine to me.”

“I’m energetic and raring to go, Professor.”

“You’re sweaty and half-dead to me.”

“I bathe two times a day … Professor.”

Her unrelated rebuttal drew confusion to the small professor. However, she knew that she was not in good condition to let her keep standing like that so she ignored it.

“Anyway, just go away, and stay at the clinic. Remember to give me an MC before the end of the day. Now, shoo.”

Professor Bridgett did a ‘shooing’ gesture and was about to continue her ranting session.

“No, thank you, Professor … I can attend classes right now.”

But De Nayale destroyed her wishes by rejecting her goodwill. And now slightly impatient, she tried to intimidate her.

“Are you trying to go against your professor?”

“Not … at all, ma’am …”

“Your actions don’t match your words, young lady.”

“... Regardless, ma’am, I’m simply following a student’s most important … task—going to class,” De Nayale answered defiantly despite her weak state.

“Moreover, Professor’s the one … who’s overstepping her boundaries as it is up to the student’s discretion … whether to attend classes regardless of their health status …” De Nayale delicately added to her stance.

“A valid point,” Professor Bridgett unexpectedly said calmly, but then sarcastically continued: “But all I can hear is ‘I don’t care about other people as long as I can stay safe from all the crap Imma dump to y’all’ … You’re aware that a cold can be transmitted, no? Quite an irresponsible action from you, Miss De Nayale.”

Professor Bridgett showed a frowning expression, expressing her dissatisfaction with De Nayale’s lack of consideration for her classmates.

At this moment, despite her small stature, her professionalism and maturity as an adult exuded from her childish body.

“Yes, absolutely … I definitely would stay at home if I were to contract a communicable disease … Fortunately, my symptoms strongly showed … a classic sign of a common cold … I made sure of that before deciding to attend …”

Only to be ruined by De Nayale’s words.

Crack!

The professor imagined her glasses breaking in frustration …!

Her stubborn attitude finally reached the end of the cherry professor’s short patience—directly proportional to her height—throwing off her professionalism to handle this properly and stirring her mischievous self to concoct an evil plan.

So, smirking wickedly, the professor said unilaterally, crossing her arms to assert domination.

“Do a flip.”

.

.

.

“Sorry?” De Nayale asked in confusion after it registered in her head.

Her confusion widened the wicked grin plastered on the cute and lovely professor. She adjusted her round glasses, causing an inexplicable light to shine on her lens as she naturally said smugly.

“If you’re not really all talk, Miss De Nayale … Do a front flip to back your words up. You convinced me but there’s really no point listening to my class if you’ll just be babied by your groupmates. A total deadweight, haha.”

The professor, laughing sarcastically, issued a physically demanding challenge to an obviously physically weak person in hopes of deterring this stubborn creature …

Or perhaps to satisfy her hidden urges to see people suffer …?

“Umm, Professor Bridgett? May I talk to her for a second?”

However, before her plan could continue, a gentle voice suddenly came from the side.

“What is it, young’un?” Professor Bridgett turned, curiously, at the voice.

Tucking her hair behind her ears, she said demurely. “Actually, Professor, someone came to me earlier to ask for permission to call in sick for De Nayale, since as we can see, she’s in a bad condition.”

“Yeah, I know, you don’t need to remind me the obvious,” Professor Bridgett commented, a bit snarky. “And the problem is this child is throwing a fit. So unless you can convince her, sit down and be silent, young lady.”

“I was just getting onto that. Can you let me talk to her for a moment?” she said quickly, afraid of irritating the already irritated professor.

“...”

Seeing no response, the woman assumed that as a silent permission so she walked up to De Nayale to knock in some sense to her stubborn act.

“Hello, Yale? I’m Felicia.”

“...”

“...”

An awkward silence ensued.

Her warm greetings received nothing but a silent glance.

Felicia was somewhat embarrassed by being ignored. However, undeterred, she still continued.

“I actually met your friend earlier, Lia. She asked me to call in sick on your behalf so you don’t need to worry about missing anything.”

When Felicia mentioned Lia’s name, De Nayale’s face softened slightly. But frowned again when she mentioned calling in sick.

“I’m sorry if she bothered you … but I’m okay, I can still go to class …”

Seeing her staying stubborn despite her words, Felicia felt a bit troubled. Her adamant demand to attend class made her realize that unless they strapped her in and forcefully tied her to a bed, she would never give in.

Quite a troublesome girl. Felicia vexedly thought.

Although strangely, the annoyance she felt was as trivial as a pebble in a lake, dominated by tolerance and a faint, inexplicable desire to spoil and care for the skittish panther cub with her bold eyebrows sinking in fragility in front of her.

Felicia tried to open her mouth again to convince the baby panther but was interrupted by a small and cute voice from behind.

“Stop wasting your spit. That wouldn’t work on people like her,” Professor Bridgett said.

“Sooo let’s go back to our talk, Miss De Nayale.”

Accompanied by a couple of resounding steps, Professor Bridgett stood in front of De Nayale, tilting her head upwards, due to the great height difference.

“Will you do it or do I have to drag your ass to the clinic?”