V. The Admiral's Daughter


A hand on his cheek while the other tapped a pen on the sheet of paper in front of him, Jim contemplated about whether he had done a fine job on his literature homework or just went with the first thing he could put in it. He wasn't too keen with self-evaluation, seeing how his meddlesome childhood had made a number on a lot of his life choices, all of it affected by the unexpected departure of his father. His erratic behavior back then also didn't help the situation one bit, and was often the prime source of trouble for his mother who did what she could to keep them and their business afloat. But now, he was definitely making an effort to change from that. Just when things were already taking a turn in his life, he wondered if he could have made a better output on his homework if his life's plot twist had only happened to him sooner.

He slumped his arms on his table and rested his head, rummaging through the words he wrote on his paper. By comparison, he realized that he probably made even better entries in his personal journal which were often accompanied by hand-drawn sketches. He thought that perhaps he could've made his work a bit more interesting by etching a few in it. However, despite their apparent similar interest in drawing, he knew that Prof. Everly wouldn't be pleased with that addition, remembering her statement the other day that drew the fine line that distinguished her interest in art to the subject she was teaching. It was a literature class after all, not an art class.

Rainier shortly approached him and the rest of the gang, apparently coming from the other lecture hall to check on Monina like he said he would. He threw his arms out and wrapped them on Jim's and Chris's shoulders, his self-assessment paper rolled up in one hand and Dale still not warming up to him after his shock from the other day.

"Hey, guys! Missed me?"

"No," deadpanned Chris. "But I bet the bunny girl did."

He affirmed with a click of his heels. "Of course, she did."

Jim groggily followed up. "Even though you practically see each other every day?"

"Like I said, she's more of a handful than you guys ever thought I would be."

Dale cut in. "And it doesn't help that she's got you already accomplishing one task in campus bingo."

"You made that task in the first place, Dale. Can't blame me for that. Besides, Jim's already acquainted with that girl from math class last Tuesday," recalled Rainier. "I'm sure that might lead to something."

He sat up upon hearing his comment and corrected. "Not true. I didn't even catch her name, not that I need to know what it is either."

"But that shouldn't stop you from winning the game," the blond pushed on. "Rainier's already one task ahead of us. Are you going to let him take that?"

"Take it easy, Dale. There's still twenty-four other tasks that we can take on, we're still in the first week of class, and it's only Thursday. It's not like everything depends on just going out with people."

"No, but you won't win unless you submit a love poem in literature class." Chris pulled out his game sheet from his notebook and pointed to the middlemost square to show it to them. "That's all you need to do to get a sure chance at nailing it."

Jim's mouth curved into a smirk, sounding not too sure of himself. "I think I can take that much."

"Wait, what?" In doubt, Rainier took the sheet from the Loppytonian's hand for a closer examination. "I got that right in the middle?"

"You made the game sheets and you can't even remember what you put in them?!" guffawed Chris.

"I was studying for the proficiency test, and it was past twelve midnight," he reasoned, waving his hand in the air upon his baffling realization. "I didn't expect myself to remember anything but the dang quadratic formula!"

"Oh, boy," Dale slurred, sliding a hand on his face.

"Let me see what else I did to the sheet," he said, continuing to inspect his craft. "All I remember is I picked the best ones from your recommendations and took six from each of us regardless of the difficulty level."

"Difficulty level?"

"Yeah. From one to five, I graded the tasks on how easy they are to do. There's one task per level on each row or column of the grid so they're evenly scattered about. That's all I remember doing but I didn't even know what the heck I was throwing at it, geez! Who even suggested the poem-thing anyway?"

"That would be me," Dale bashfully peeped. "But I didn't know you would make it the most important task of all."

Rainier frowned at the pangolin boy who was now laughing at his slip-up, and he admitted in defeat. "That makes two of us."

Prof. Everly soon entered the room on her way to the teacher's desk, and Jim even noticed Dale let out a small dreamy sigh once she had settled her things down. He even noticed the similar cut of her blue dress, styled like the one she wore the other day with only a variation in the patchwork and stitching. Jim thought to himself that perhaps Prof. Everly had a set of similar clothes, which was not unusual for him since most of the clothes he owned himself were all nearly identical to each other. Adding to that was the fact that he had to wear a matching set of academy uniform on a daily basis now.

"Okay, class. Please submit your self-assessment exercises to the front," she announced with a clap of her hand, her students doing so right away. "While you're at it, I have a very important announcement to make."

She glanced to her class for a minute, observing the wave of papers slowly moving towards the front, with some late teenagers frantically catching up with the submission. "Today, I will only give you an orientation for one of the primary requirements in my course: your literature project. I know that it's way too early in the term for me to give it to you but it's an output that will last your entire school year so it's best that you prepare yourselves right now. We will start with the introduction to the weekly writing exercises that you are required to submit."

And the expected groans from the students were heard as she collected their paperwork. "Now, now. You won't be working on all of this alone. I have already paired you up with someone and the list was already prepared last night, completely randomized and unbiased. Now everyone, please stand up and vacate all seats."

On her word, she invited the class to leave their respective chairs and had them stood at the back of the lecture hall like she instructed them to.

"As I call your names, please occupy the seats that I will indicate in the order that I announce you."

She then began her roll call, the first student making his way to the very first seat from the left at the front row. The second one was directed to the seat beside him, and so on.

"Christopher Levey."

Hearing his name mentioned, the Loppytonian saluted to his pals and made his way to his indicated seat. Settling down, he waited for the arrival of his assigned partner who followed him soon enough once his name was called. The enumeration went on until the whole second row was already occupied.

"James Hawkins."

The lad then waved to his two remaining roommates who were still waiting for their turn to be called. He then took his seat and simply waited for the entire listing to finish, or at least until his project partner was already seated with him.

"Katherine Blake."

Jim looked from behind and thought that the name sounded familiar, ringing somewhere in the back of his mind. His speculation was cleared when she walked to his side and sat beside him, sharing a familiar eye contact with the red-haired girl he had met several days ago. She looked prim and proper still, with the same light brown eyes which held that distinct stare and an air that gave away the vibe that she was not one for messing around with things.

Since they weren't that fully acquainted yet, he decided to just sit quietly as the instructor carried on with pairing up the rest of the class. Once all had been seated, she moved on to the briefing of her requirements.

"Now listen closely, class. Every week, you will have individual writing exercises that you are required to submit every week. That means in one team, I will still be expecting one output from each member. Your outputs could traverse different media. It can be an essay, a story, a limerick, anything you want as long as it's an original work. I also appreciate variation so feel free to use any of them interchangeably. However, your work should all revolve on a central theme to make your submissions consistent since you'll be compiling them all up as your final project. As long as you get to submit your weekly exercises on time, you already have a sure chance in getting a good grade on your project."

It was perhaps Prof. Everly wanted them to do the project in the slowly-but-surely, step-by-step method that she had decided to arrange the project composition like that, in hopes that everything should go smoothly for her students. Jim half-grinned to himself, thinking that it was a clever approach, but not necessarily from thinking that he already got this all in the bag.

"You will be basing your exercises on a topic that I will assign each week. My topic is separate from the main theme that you'll come up with so the challenge for you is how you'll get to align my topic with your theme. Now for your own theme, it can be anything under the sun. It can be something concrete or an abstract thought. It can be anything that you prefer as long as the content adheres to my guidelines. Is that clear to everyone?"

A short and uneven 'yes, ma'am' filled the room from her students, and she smiled and clasped her hands in delight of their comprehension.

"For your first writing exercise, the first topic coming from me is about the first stage of the reading process: pre-reading. Your self-evaluation exercise should give you a head start for that," she encouraged with a wink. "Seeing that you're all prepped up to get working, let's get into your deadlines."

As the professor went on with the announcement, Jim glanced to the red-haired girl beside him from the corner of his eye. Her skin was lightly tan and her red hair cascaded and tucked behind her lion-like ears, still in a low bun at the back of her head. He noticed that she was scribbling down an outline, neat and organized, of all the significant details and not a single one being left unnoticed. He didn't bother to break off her concentration or also write down on his own notepad since he didn't feel the need to. His focus soon returned to the instructor who was about done giving out her pointers.

Prof. Everly then left the floor for the students to brief themselves with their assigned work. Jim turned to the Leonid beside him, unsure of how to break the ice with his designated partner.

"Hey. I don't know if you remember, but-"

"I remember," she turned to face him and replied. "You got lost in the student affairs building last Sunday."

"So... Katherine, right?"

"Kate is fine, Jim."

He smiled at her recognition, and that she even remembered how he introduced himself. "Then Kate it is. So... how do we start?"

"We're not exactly in the right situation to research right now," she supposed. "Doing that will be best in the library for later, but we should first brainstorm on a proper theme for our overall compilation."

"Any good themes coming to mind?"

"I'm leaning more into academics, but I don't think you'd agree with that."

"Not at all. I think it's a good idea," he backed her up. "Should help us work on something more relatable."

"I should probably narrow that down still, be more specific in scope."

Jim suggested upon picking up from her insight. "How about the life of a student?"

Kate hesitated with his idea. "As much as I want to deliberate on that, our outputs would be difficult to integrate since, well, we more or less see things differently. For instance, boys like you won't see things eye-to-eye with girls like myself. That's just one trait that separates our ideals but I think I got my point across."

"I get your point, but what's so wrong with that? It could give us a chance to explore each other's interests. Like how a girl and a boy student, specifically you and me, would probably agree or disagree on a lot of things. That should give some sort of depth into our work."

She complimented in high regard of his wit. "An insightful suggestion, but you probably won't agree with me on a lot of things."

He crossed his arms and leaned back on his seat, then asked out of curiosity. "Well, what do girls like you think about?"

She pondered, enumerating the first thing that went in her mind with her fingers. "My scholastic performance, my family, fiction and non-fiction novels, and boys." She jerked when she realized what she had just said and immediately explained what she was trying to imply. "Not in the way you probably think, but how I critique people in general."

"Yeah, that's going to be kinda hard for me to line up with."

She also crossed her arms with a tilt of her head and sneered. "Obviously. All boys like you probably ever think about are solar surfing and video games."

Jim wanted to have a say in it, clearly affronted by her words but he also didn't want to correct them since he couldn't deny that he was already caught guilty as charged. "That's not entirely true" was all the strength that he could answer with.

In consolation to his apparent defeat, she asked in a lighter tone, thinking that he could actually prove her wrong. "In what aspect am I wrong then?"

"For one, you're not wrong about the solar surfing part."

"Predictable."

"But that's not just all that we ever think about. We think about our families too, our friends, our academics." Suddenly, the thought of campus bingo entered his mind. After all, that was all he and his roommates could think about apart from their piling up schoolwork. He remembered how Rainier was already one task ahead of them, and even pitched him with the girl he was partnered with the other day. He looked away with uncertainty and added. "And we think about girls too."

In clarification of his statement, she followed up. "Generally how you think about people too, perhaps?"

"Maybe. But you know, anything could lead to something."

She nearly choked on his words, a wave of heat crept on her cheeks and she quickly covered up her red-faced self with a cough. "... Anyway, I will consider your idea."

Pleased with her announcement, he turned to her once more and smiled. "Thanks."

"We could start working on our respective writing exercises tonight and you could give me a progress report tomorrow after biology class. I'll share mine in return."

Jim simply hummed in approval and nodded back, seeing in the back of his mind that this was a good excuse for him to go research in the library and even borrow something out for reference. One bingo task accomplished, it would be.


"Can we stop by my locker for a bit?" Dale excused once he had gathered with his roommates at the room's doorway. "I need to grab something important really quick."

Rainier nodded. "Sure, but what could be more important than your inhaler?"

Jim queried. "A decongestant?"

"Trail mix?" guessed Chris.

The blond nervously twirled his fingers in hesitation. "Something else. I'd rather not say."

"Let's go then. I'm dying to know what it is," Rainier invited with a taunt.

"Say, Jim," called Chris. "Did you get everything that Prof. Everly said? I kinda lost track on some of her guidelines."

"No problem," he replied and held up Delbert's tape recorder. He pressed on a button to briefly play a recording of Prof. Everly beginning with her announcement. "Got it all right here."

While Chris and Dale were all smiles at his newsflash, Rainier eyed the handheld and pointed a doubting finger to it. "Is that Morph or is it the real thing?"

"It's the real thing," Jim assured.

Just when he heard his name, the pink shape shifter rose out of Jim's pocket, squeaked 'real thing' repeatedly in his tiny voice and flew around the black-haired teenager, before resting behind his shoulder when he saw some students pass them by. Among them was Jim's writing partner, apparently approaching the brown-haired lad to speak to him. Even Jim thought to himself how sharp she actually looked from just the way she carried herself around. Aside from that, he mulled about how she still got to make herself look nice even in uniform.

"Jim," spoke Kate. "Remember, progress report tomorrow. Biology class."

"Yeah, I got it. I won't let you down," he assured once more, smoothly with a salute.

The lass then continued her way out of the room and when she was finally out of sight, the Loppytonian made a comment. "I'm amazed by how you can talk to her so casually."

As they strolled through the main hallway, Jim questioned. "What do you mean? Is it because she's a girl?"

"Actually yeah, Jim," Dale confessed. "But that's just part of the whole reason why I can't bring myself to look at her straight in the eye."

"I only see her as a classmate, guys. And I'm not even thinking that I'd get anywhere with her."

"Jimmy Jim Jim," cooed Rainier. "There's a whole lot about the Katherine Blake that you don't know."

"Alright..." he conceded with a shrug, stuffing his free hand in his pocket. "What am I missing with Kate then?"

They soon arrived by the lockers where several other students were also going through their belongings. Stopping right where Dale's was, Rainier warned. "Here's the thing: you won't want to mess with her. Ever. Just stick with that advice and you'll be fine."

"Consider it done. I don't even plan to mess with anybody around here."

"But Kate the Blake is not just anybody, Jim."

Dale swung his locker open and informed. "She's Admiral Blake's daughter."

"Admiral Blake, the main man of the entire Royal Navy," Chris followed up. "Well, one of the highest ranking officers there, to say the least."

"Admiral Blake," Jim mused, picturing in his mind the long-haired officer in his red Royal Navy uniform. "Now I see. I mean I can see the resemblance. That's good to know."

"But you still sound so chill about it! Even after knowing the fact that you're partnered with an admiral's overachieving daughter who's been holding the rank one position for a year straight in our batch and would probably cut you to pieces if you piss her off!" Rainier fretted, the little blob on his shoulder slightly shook up by his sudden exclamation. "Yeah, I don't think she'll do anything to you as long as you don't get yourself in a heap of trouble with her."

"Or do poorly in the writing exercises," reflected Dale. "Since it's a team effort, you would be dragging her down with you if you flunk it."

"Then there's her admiral of a father. I don't even want to know how you'd get into a situation so bad that you'd have to meet with him personally. Just the thought of what could happen from that point on freaks me out," Rainier shuddered, feeling threatened by his own words.

Chris let out a heavy sigh. "That's so. Much. Pressure."

"Hey, guys. Relax," Jim appeased with an open hand (he would've used two if only he didn't have his notebook and tape recorder with him) to calm down his already agitated roommates, although he's the one who should be in their place. "I did tell her I'm not gonna let her down. Besides, it's not like I'm doing what I can in this writing exercise as a favor from her. I'm doing it for myself so whether she'd like my work or not, she would have to deal with it."

"Setting aside the fact that her father's a Royal Navy Admiral?"

"Doesn't even have anything to do with it. Yeah, I get that I should respect her dad. Fear him even. I know you would say that I should maybe fear his daughter too, but I guess I just don't see it that way. Kate is Kate, and she's just a classmate. Nothing more to that."

"Well, if you say so, Jim," Rainier finally permitted. "But in case you happen to throw down with Kate the Blake or something, the boys and I got your back."

Jim smiled at his proffered support, his roommates agreeing with him. "Thanks, guys."

Chris then spoke up to lighten the mood and change the topic of discussion. "So, are you all ready for what will be served to us in biology today?"

Rainier scoffed. "Biology doesn't even start in an hour, Chris."

Jim laughed. "You're making it sound like they're serving us out food like in the cafeteria."

"No, but the way we would be talking about innards sure is close enough," defended the Loppytonian.

"Now you know what I had to drop by my locker for," Dale cut in with a sigh.

"Your barf bag?"

"Yup," he nodded and held up the unused and still folded up paper bag. "Better prepare myself for when I get queasy from just thinking about it."

The pangolin boy closed his locker behind him and the boys made their way to their algebra class. A couple of cabinets away, Kate hid from them behind her locker door and breathed out of relief upon knowing that the four wouldn't be passing her by since they might think she was eavesdropping. She wouldn't deny that though since she had heard everything perfectly clear, even the inept nickname the Cervid used when he pertained to her. She wanted to make an appeal on that, but contained herself from doing so as it would only confirm the speculation.

She closed her storage and among the four teenaged boys, her bright eyes were locked in on the brown-haired human who was throwing his head back laughing and joking with the others while a little pink blob hovered near him. She narrowed her eyes in suspicion and walked, in the opposite direction to where the boys were headed, to her next class, thanking the stars that she wouldn't be seeing his face for the next one and a half hour.