Beca Mitchell was a nuisance. That's what Chloe Beale decided After having five minutes to walk across the campus with her. The badass attitude was doing nothing for the red-head except convincing her that the weird feeling her stomach was in fact, hatred.

It hit her like a rock to the abdomen, her fingers still chilled from the conversation with her father. Beca watched the woman carefully; the way she walked with such conviction and confidence. It was alluring, but terrifying in its own rights.

The campus wasn't like anything she had seen before. It was all limestone, the lockers a deep blue that was exposed to the outside air. It was almost like a courthouse without the overzealous roof and crazy designs on the ceiling. Beca was sure there were a few Greek murals here somewhere.

Chloe was silent as she trudged up a long set of stairs, Beca keeping in time with her pace as she glanced over at the woman every once and awhile. The ginger noticed quickly but refused to say anything, focusing more on the odd feeling that she got in her stomach each time indigo eyes met the side of her face.

"Do you like it here?" Beca asked, a bit timidly.

"It's not so bad," Chloe said, voice the softest it had been since the smaller girl met her. "Not the prison that my father paints it to be."

"He seems like a pretty tough guy."

"Hmm," Chloe hummed absently as they reached the top of the steps. Beca could feel her heartbeat in her throat, used to running from the cops, not up a large set of limestone stairs. The taller girl smirked softly, knowing that she should probably give the senior a second to catch her breath, but she continued to walk anyway- listening to Beca's heartbeat. "What about yours, he any different?"

"My father is a hypocrite." She ran a hand through her hair, panting as she ran over how thankful she was about her bags already being in her room. "He wants me to be some patron saint, but he's practically Judas himself."

Chloe snorted, shaking her head. "He sent you here, I'm guessing?"

Beca almost ran into Chloe as she stopped quickly again. They were in a long and closed off hallway, breath close to showing in the vicious cold. There were no heaters, not in the corridors. For once, Beca couldn't wait to curl up in a foreign bed. She stopped herself, the taller woman flashing a smile.

"Well, it was here or jail." The girl admitted sheepishly.

"I have no room to judge," Chloe admitted, digging into her pocket as she pulled out a clad iron key. It was weighted against her palm, cold. Beca lifted an eyebrow slightly but didn't expect any type of reiteration on the subject. She wasn't going to get any.

Chloe shoved her shoulder into the door, a long creak pushing through the air as a much-appreciated warmth pressed against both girls. This area was bigger than Emily's: The beds larger but the set up almost the same. Instead of the window, there were two, carved from deep wood that leads out to a stone balcony. Flimsy curtains were blocking out the sun.

"Hey, Red." An accented voice drew Beca's attention, her lips parting in amusement as she got a good look at her new roommate. She was tall, her eyes kind and soft against fair skin. The girl's blonde hair was lazily tied in a bun, her own books spread out around her. She didn't' bother pulling herself from the bed. "You brought fresh meat?"

The girl let out a small groan as she clenched her eyes shut, squeezing the bridge of her nose. "Amy this is Beca, Beca this is Amy."

"Nice to meet you Shawshank." Amy beamed her grey eyes nothing but happy.

"Shawshank?" The shorter girl lifted her eyebrows as Chloe just shrugged her shoulders, not completely sure herself in the woman's words. "Okay…"

"You'll get along great," Chloe narrowed her eyes as she shoved her hands in her pockets, her jaw clenched against the draft that pushed close to her back when she took a step back towards the corridor. She had been "on" enough today. Her head was buzzing as she lifted her chin "I'll find you if you need me."

The ball rested easily in Aubrey's fingers, her back pressed heavily against a perfectly made bed. Her military upbringing in a house filled with only boys kept the corners neat and the girl meticulous.

The blonde threw the object up in the air once more, her friend quick to grasp the item before it could reach her friend once more. The tennis ball was light in her palm, warm. She smirked down at Aubrey, cocking her head to the side.

"You look tired," Aubrey grumbled as she rolled over on her stomach. "Were your little recruits that exhausting?"

The red-head smirked, flopping down on her own mattress as she kept the ball in her grasp, rolling it between her index finger and thumb. Her free hand rested on her stomach as her breathing raised it up and down. She didn't' answer her friend at first. "Emily seems nice."

"Don't get too close to her." Aubrey was quick to say, propping herself up on her elbow as the younger girl turned her head towards her friend. "She's not here as a friend."

Chloe let out a long sigh, knowing that she was right. Her fingers closed slightly around the tennis ball, feeling it concave lightly against her touch. She wasn't going to crush it- instead, she waited until the rubber bounced back before she contracted once more. She was lost in thought, biting the edge of her lip as she felt Aubrey's stare burn into the side of her face.

"You're not getting cold feet, are you Chlo?" The words were quiet, each girl not wanting to hear the answer to a looming question.

"No," The ginger finally whispered, "We don't have much room to deviate from the plan, now do we?"

"I suppose not," Aubrey spoke carefully. "What about the other girl?"

She tightened her grasp on her cotton shirt, averting her eyes to stare back at the intercut dark lining of the ceiling. "What about her?"

[A/N: Hmm, I wonder why Chlo can't get close to either of the girls?]