Postcards from Three Pines: A Great Reckoning
Amelia Choquet folded her arms across her chest and leaned back at her desk. She was careful to make sure the sleeves of her uniform rode up, exposing her tattoos, and as she did she played with the stud in her tongue, shoving it up and down. Up and down. In an unmistakable display of boredom.
Then she slumped down and observed. It was what she did best. Never participating, but always watching. Closely.
At the moment she was watching the man at the front of the classroom. He was large, though not fat. More burly, she supposed. Substantial. And old enough to be her father, though her own father was even older than this man.
The professor wore a jacket and tie and flannels. He was neat, without being prissy. He looked clean.
His voice as he spoke to the first-year students wasn’t at all lecturing, unlike many of the other professors. He was talking to them, and his attitude seemed to be that they were free to take in what he was saying, or not. It was their choice.
She clicked the stud against her teeth and the girl in front turned and shot her an annoyed look.
Amelia sneered and smiled and the girl went back to scribbling notes, apparently taking down what the professor was saying verbatim.
So far they were a week into the term and Amelia had only taken down a handful of sentences in her brand-new notebook. Though, to be honest, she was still surprised to be there at all.