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Cold dread settled in the pit of Lara's stomach as she stared at her laptop screen in a state of borderline catatonia. Last week, the gymnastics squad had their photos taken, after which the coach handed them brief questionnaires and informed them that online profile pages would be created for each of them using their individual headshots. In theory, Lara took no issue with this; her headshot was one of the better photos she'd taken in her lifetime despite the fact she hadn't smiled for it. What she did take issue with was the biography that had been included on her page in particular. Struggling to not give in to the panic that threatened to consume her, she read it over once more:

Lara Croft

Height: 168cm

Event: All-Around

DOB: 14/02/1992 (17 y/o)

Born Lara Amelia Croft in Guildford, Surrey… Daughter of Richard and Amelia Croft… Lara is a first year archaeologist and has been doing gymnastics since the age of four. Prior to attending UCL, she trained at Leatherhead and Dorking Gymnastics Club, often representing them at elite-level competitions. Outside of gymnastics, she also competed for the track and field team at Marymount International School London for the duration of her secondary education, participating in events such as high jump, the 400m, and the 800m. In her free time, she enjoys activities such as archery, reading, hiking, and rock climbing.

When the coach had handed a questionnaire out to every gymnast, she had made it seem as though their biographies would only include the information from their responses, namely their interests and athletic backgrounds. Instead, just about every detail of Lara's upbringing she'd made a concerted effort to keep under wraps had been put on display for anyone to see, Catherine included. While the gymnastics captain hadn't caused any further trouble since receiving a surprise nose job, there wasn't a single doubt in Lara's mind that she was simply biding her time and waiting for her chance at revenge.

It was unsettling to picture the gleeful smile that would undoubtedly stretch across Catherine's face when she realized who the daughter of Crazy Croft was, and Lara felt her stomach churn at the thought. No matter what angle she approached the situation from, there didn't seem to be a way out. Even if she were able to convince the coach to omit specific pieces of information from her profile, she knew an incomplete profile page would still stick out like a sore thumb. It was bound to raise questions no matter what, and sooner or later her identity would be revealed, after which point… Lara buried her face in her hands.

It would be Marymount all over again.

"What do you want?" One of the girls barring her passage demanded. Lara folded an arm across her chest and rubbed her elbow nervously.

"Just finding a place to sit…" she murmured.

"Well go find a place to sit somewhere else, freak!" Another girl spat at her. When Lara remained unmoved, the girl scowled, "Are you even listening or have you gone completely barmy like that father of yours?! I said scram!" As much as she would have liked to wipe the snide looks off the girls' faces, Lara knew doing so would only serve to make the situation worse for herself. Unclenching the fists she'd unconsciously balled her hands up into, she turned on her heel to walk away when the first girl piped up again.

"Hey, Crazy Croft! Don't forget your lunch!" Lara felt something splatter all over the back of her head and neck, and she froze. The entire dining hall went silent, save for the laughter she heard coming from behind, and she could feel that all eyes were on her. Her heart pounded in her throat, and she felt her ears go hot.

"And your dessert!" The other girl added, and Lara felt another messy collision on the back of her head not too long thereafter. Choking back all the rage, shame, and humiliation that threatened to spill from her eyes, she reached up with a shaking hand to wipe the mess from her nape. When she pulled it away, she found it covered in assorted spaghetti and chocolate cake bits. She swallowed thickly and took a deep breath in an attempt to steady herself before speaking.

"Thanks," she said as evenly as she could without looking back at them. "It's good to know you've got my back covered. I might've gone hungry otherwise." She made her way to the bathroom without another word, refusing to let the tears she'd been choking back flow until she was finally holed up within the safe confines of a stall. Sobbing raggedly, she cursed Deranged Dick for all he'd done between snivels and whimpers until her throat went raw and her eyes ran dry. It was all his fault, everything was his fault, and she hated him for it.

The sounds of a key being inserted into a lock jolted Lara back to reality, and she scrambled to close out her laptop's browser as Sam let herself into the room.

"Hello, hello," Sam said in a sing-song voice as the door swung shut behind her. Dropping her bag down on the floor beside her, she made her way over to her bed and flopped down on top of it. "Holy shit, you wouldn't believe what just happened! I have this partner in Chem lab and-" she stopped mid-sentence when she looked over at Lara, and frowned concernedly, "waddup with the long face? Everything alright?"

No, Lara thought to herself. "Yeah," she replied as naturally as she could instead, "I'm just...a bit stressed out is all." That wasn't far from the truth, either.

"Is it because of the Macbeth reading and response paper due tomorrow?" Sam inquired.

"No, no, I already did that," Lara said, sighing for added effect. "It's mostly just that everything in general's getting to me with how busy my schedule is...anyways, weren't you saying something about a lab partner?" she added, changing the topic before Sam had the chance to question her any further.

"Oh yeah!" Sam exclaimed, shaking her head in apparent disbelief as she propped herself up on her elbows, "So I have this lab partner who I swear was dropped on her head as a child and in lab today we were working with powdered zinc, right? Now, I never took AP Chem but I still know that powdered zinc's really reactive and the lab professor explicitly stated to not throw it away or get it wet! But did my partner listen? Nope! The dumb bitch threw the zinc away and started a friggin' trash can fire!" In spite of herself, Lara let out a snort and dissolved into a fit of laughter.

"Bloody hell…" She chortled, "How daft can you be?"

"Right?!" Sam huffed, "I mean, how the hell'd she get into UCL in the first place if she can't even handle basic lab safety?!"

"Your guess is as good as mine...do you still have to work with her, then?" Lara asked, turning in her chair to better face Sam.

"I have no clue. I'm gonna either e-mail my professor about it or talk to him in person later on though…" Sam groaned, letting herself fall back into her bed and rubbing her eyes out. "What a fucking day...you wanna get out of here for a bit before we both lose our sanity?" Lara bit her lip pensively when Sam looked to her for an answer.

"I don't know…" she began uncertainly, "I start work at the Nine Bells this weekend and there's still a lot I need to get done before then…" which, once again, was true; she had received a job offer on the spot after her interview.

"Oh yeah, I forgot they ended up hiring you," Sam's voice contained a small hint of disappointment, "no worries, then!" She laced her fingers behind her head and closed her eyes. Lara looked on hesitantly, slight guilt niggling at the back of her mind. She liked Sam; she'd been polite and friendly right from the start, and her happy, care-free attitude was almost contagious. Was it really fair to blow her off in light of that?

"Oh sod it," Lara blurted out, "why not?" She switched her laptop off and stood up to hunt down a pair of shoes. Sam reopened her eyes and stared at Lara.

"Wait, really?" She asked in shock. "I mean, that's great, obviously! I just figured it would've been harder to pry you away from your dusty old textbooks is all."

"Don't get used to it," Lara warned, seating herself on the edge of her bed after finding a pair of boots to wear. "I do need to be a bit more conscious of how I budget my time from here on out."

"Fair enough...why though?" Sam asked, and Lara looked up at her in confusion, "Why put yourself through the stress of balancing a job and classes? I mean, you're so smart-don't you have scholarships that cover the cost of school?" Lara paused just as she was securing her first boot on her foot.

"I do…" she began slowly, "but they aren't nearly enough to cover everything." She had her ancestry to thank for that; most of the scholarships that were available were based on financial need, and being the heiress of a peerage didn't exactly qualify her for selection.

"I'm sorry, that sucks," Sam said earnestly. Lara merely shrugged as she finished getting her other shoe on.

"It's alright, working helps keep me structured and focused anyways." She stood up and grabbed her phone and keys off her desk, "Shall we?" Sam blinked at her.

"Oh! Yeah, anything you wanna do in particular?"

"Aren't you the one who suggested going out for a bit?" Lara inquired. Sam grinned sheepishly as she sat up and scratched the back of her neck.

"Yeah, but I'm not exactly familiar with London so I was just gonna wing it," She said. Lara folded her arms across her chest and regarded Sam with a raised brow.

"Hmmm…" Lara mused at length, "I guess I'll have to show you around, then. Come on."

"Wait, so you weren't kidding?" Sam asked incredulously as they made their way down towards the end of Platform 8 in King's Cross station. Lara smirked into her to-go cup and took a sip of tea.

"I wouldn't have brought you here to prove it if I was, as amusing as that would have been," she quipped, turning left towards Platform 9.

"Alright, smartass," Sam snarked in return. Lara was too busy trying to find what she was looking for to think of an adequate retort.

"It should be about ten yards down on the left…" she muttered absentmindedly, "...there!" She barked triumphantly, pointing to a luggage trolley half embedded in a brick wall, above which hung a sign that read Platform 9 ¾.

"Dude!" Sam exclaimed, "It's a Potterhead's dream come true! But...why's it between Platforms 8 and 9?" She looked at Lara inquisitively.

"Ah, funny story, that…" Lara began. "You see, Platform 10 is actually in a separate building and is also adjacent to Platform 9 meaning there couldn't have been a magical wall to travel through meaning that J.K. Rowling actually made a mistake when writing Harry Potter." Sam looked stunned at this revelation.

"Wow. I feel like my entire childhood was a lie," she remarked sadly, "...I'm still getting my picture taken though because screw it! It's Harry Potter! Here, take my phone," she shoved her phone in Lara's hands before trotting over to the trolley gleefully, looking like a child in a candy store with the way she beamed excitedly while striking a pose. Rolling her eyes in amusement, Lara set her tea down and snapped a photo before motioning to indicate she'd captured the image and returning Sam's phone to her.

"Was it everything you ever dreamed?" She asked sarcastically, retrieving her cup before they made their way out of the train station together.

"Oh hush, you're as much of a Potterhead as I am even if you won't admit it," Sam shot back. Lara's only response was to shrug noncommittally. "Exactly my point," Sam said smugly.

"Alright, alright, you got me. I read things other than the 'boring old classics' on occasion," Lara conceded.

"I never said they were boring!" Sam protested, "In fact, my favorite book is Pride and Prejudice!"

"Pride and Prejudice?" Lara asked skeptically, finishing her tea and throwing the cup away before sliding her hands in her pockets, "I never took you for a Jane Austen fan."

"It's great!" Sam responded a bit defensively, "It's not just about love, you know. Austen also put a lot of emphasis on the themes of class and reputation. I mean, think about it: the book depicts a society where a woman's behavior is constantly under heavy scrutiny because of the expectations placed on her by society, and to go against them is taboo. It's kinda crazy how much of that still rings true today in spite of the book's age, isn't it? Elizabeth's judged by her mom's behavior, and it's absolute bullshit but that's just how it goes. Instead of letting people be individuals, we decide to stick to these archaic values centered on acting the way everyone else wants you to and upholding family honor and all that crap, y'know?" Lara pensively stared off into the distance while they walked.

"Yeah, I do…" She said distractedly, quickly realizing her mistake and correcting herself, "What you're talking about, I mean. I know what you're talking about. Truth be told, the novel left me wanting, though."

"How so?"

"Well," Lara took a moment to gather her thoughts before continuing, "honestly, I felt like it left the theme of reputation unexplored. Austen certainly touched on things relating to reputation but to what extent does she really critique social structures? It just seems like she simply accepted the inevitability of them. The happy ending was satisfying, sure, but it was a huge missed opportunity to make a statement. Such waste should be considered criminal."

"Are they really inevitable though?" Sam posed.

"Of course," Lara said without hesitation, "you said so yourself: we're still subject to the same expectations today."

"But I never said we had to actually meet those expectations," Sam pointed out, "just that we stick to the values that give rise to them."

"Yeah, but can you picture the Queen street racing Fast and Furious style? Or the Earl of Derby making a sex tape? People would ridicule them; their image and reputation would be in shambles!"

"I dunno about that," Sam replied lightheartedly, "if the Queen started street racing that'd be pretty badass in my opinion, and if anything I think it'd make people love her even more. As for this Earl of Farringdon dude? Who really cares? Sure all the stuffy nobles might shun him but I don't think the general public would demonize him."

"You're wrong there," Lara came back a bit too quickly, and Sam regarded her with curiosity.

"What makes you so sure?" She asked.

"I…" Suddenly finding herself backed into a corner with no route of escape, Lara cleared her throat and carefully considered her next words. "Well, about five years ago there was this public figure who was...a bit eccentric. And he was subject to so much ridicule by the public and media that he ended up killing himself because of it. People in those positions are subject to more scrutiny…" Her voice trailed off, leaving her previous statement unfinished.

"Dude, you sure you're alright?" Sam cut in, "You've looked like you're being held at gunpoint on and off all day."

"Huh?" Lara asked innocently in an attempt to buy herself more time, "Yeah, why wouldn't I be? I already told-"

"Told me you're stressed out," Sam finished, "yeah, I know. But about what?"

"Sam…"

"I'm not going to tell anybody if that's what you're worried about; just tell me what's been bugging you so much. You can trust me," Sam insisted, and Lara couldn't help but sigh exasperatedly.

"It's not that I don't trust you, Sam. It's just personal and not anybody else's business." Lara couldn't help but let a hint of irritation creep into her voice. She and Sam hadn't even known each other for a month and she was already trying to forcefully insert herself into every facet of her personal life. And for what purpose? Was the concept of boundaries simply a foreign concept to her? Or was it that she secretly already knew of Lara's noble lineage and was simply trying to get close to her to use her high-born ties for her own gain? Lara felt the heavy weight of dread settle in the pit of her stomach, and found herself instantly suspicious of Sam's intentions.

That was her problem. She was incapable of trusting anyone.

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