Chapter 5

Celia Heart was in so few words; a saving grace.

Completely refreshing and honest. No hint of fear or worse yet condescending disgust of my "sordid affairs," that were none of hers or anyone's-es business.

But rich people newsletters, were still rich people newsletters and goss circuits.

Turns out the new 'bad girl' enrolling was the hot tea nowadays.

"I swear, you topped number two for hottest dish."

"And let me guess number one," I said, in a smug note of triumph.

"Jared," we both replied.

"What is with people?" I asked. And genuinely unaware. "He's just a dude and if you asked me; men. Waste. Of. Time. They are just," adding a shudder, "ick."

Celia shrugged. "Got me Harley."

Then a bit of chocolate landed on her prim, smoothed skirt.

I stared, waiting and quite ready for the shrieking and/or wailing to start.

Rather, Celia wiped an equally prim finger wiping away the mess. "Lucky I only broke my leg," Celia giggled.

"How, did you do that?" I ventured.

"Well--"

The bell cut her off, "oh well story for later. Lunch okay, bye Harley."

With a wave she rolled, only to bump into a decent looking boy. Celia laughed in a manner that punched me with nostalgia. How many times did me or my friends flirtatiously giggle to the simplest compliments over newly mint outfits or accessories. "Mind giving me a hand?"

For all the short-circuited nerves of a hormonal teen boy Celia had also guaranteed quality service who wouldn't allow a ruined hairstyle.

Leaving me obsolete and heading off to my own first class.