(no subject)

[hebeimmortalized]

She's . . . probably being really stupid right now. There's no one with her to curb her impulses. She's facing a life-changing moment and there's no one there to tell her Stop, no, this isn't right. She's keenly aware of her heart pumping in her chest, of the blood rushing through her veins. She stares, waiting for something to go wrong.

Waiting for something in her to change.

The library is quiet, and probably no place to be doing this, but she's not sure she dares to at home. Not with Jack and Poison on eggshells, not with Girl there to egg her on — or judge her loudly; she's not sure which she's more afraid of.

The pamphlet stares up at her where it rests on the table between her hands.

So you want to go to college, it says.

This is so stupid.

She looks around surreptitiously, like she's breaking some kind of law just by being here. She's just . . . she just wants a normal life.

Comments

[hebeimmortalized]

"The art department," she says with exactly no hesitation. If she does decide to enroll, she's going to want to have at least one art class, whether it's art history or something else. But she wants to see how they handle it here, how they approach it.

[thatsallthereis]

The immediacy of her answer brought a little smile to Gansey's lips. In his life of pursuit, he admired a person who knew what they wanted. Until he'd met Ronan, Gansey hadn't quite felt he belonged anywhere. He was a dotted line on a map, seeking dead Welsh kings while others played in the sprinklers and drove up to mountain ranges to make moves on the girls at neighboring schools. Gansey had spent his time making moves on mountains, playing in libraries, finding something that was not meant to be found. Were he not put to peace by the actions of his friends, he would have felt an aching jealousy.

"One of my very good friends is in the art department," Gansey informed her, standing. "Would you like to see the building? If he's around, I'll introduce you."

[hebeimmortalized]

She nods, pushing up from her seat, as well. She gathers what few papers she has and wrings them in her hands as she follows him out of the library.

"Um, lead the way."