The bell rang past one in the afternoon.
It didn't take long before kids of all ages ran out into the courtyard. The afternoon would be reserved for a teacher's convention, so they were dismissed earlier than usual. And in the wonderful sun, for that matter!—it was perfect to lounge around and skylark under the clouds.
Or perhaps, not quite, she thought, fitting in stacks of books and papers into her satchel. The board was covered in notes and assignments. She stared at it for the longest time, not noticing her female companion brush over to her desk.
"Have you finished your article yet?" she inquired, voice light and chipper. Her voice rammed into her thoughts, breaking her train of concentration.
"Oh, yes," she said, hesitantly. Quickly, she regained composure. "It's a bit wordy, though, so I'll have to edit it out again."
"That's cool," said her friend, leaning on her chair. "I'm nearly done myself. Could you believe it, Wella? A few more months and we'll be journalists! Aren't you excited by the rush of it all?"
She cracked a smile, still fixing her things. "Actually. It is rather exciting."
"I'll probably go into Lifestyle, though. That last assignment really had me going—imagine, an interview with Bianca Castafiore!" Her eyes lit up at the prospect, smile as wide as the oceans.
The other girl, however, seemed to be dazed again. She analyzed the writing on the board, trying to fend off a weird feeling in her stomach.
"So what's your article about, Wella?" the girl asked suddenly, jolting her out of her thoughts once again. She had to come up with a good comeback.
"Politics," she said, hurriedly. After fumbling a little more, she managed to sling the satchel over her shoulder. "I was assigned to the Parliament beat."
The other girl winced slightly. "Ooh. It sounds terribly boring."
"It is. But you can find a good story if you know where to look," she retorted, chuckling. "I'll have to go now, though, if you don't mind. There's something I need to do back home."
"Aww, but I haven't told you about the adorable boy journalist I met during the assignment! He's quite phenomenal, quite smashing, if you will, and he's about our age—"
"Perhaps next time," she yelled, a few feet away from the room. With a dry smile, she waved at her friend and walked to the exit. "See you!"
Then, when the coast was clear, she slid down the banisters—something she loved to do, although it was forbidden to do so. She was fairly complacent about it, though—she had a good academic standing, and the administration was often lax around honor students. Reaching the bottom at last, she jumped down, making sure her skirt didn't flare up.
It was a fine morning. Sunlight exposed the rustic splendor of the red-bricked university buildings. It hit the university bell tower, centuries old, and bathed it in light.
And yet—she thought, walking smack-dab in the middle of the square—she couldn't shake off the feeling that there was more to life than this.