The following Monday, the atmosphere at St. Jude’s returned to its usual state of glacial hostility. In the hallowed halls of the Political Science department, Claire and Morgan were once again the two poles of a magnetic field—constantly pushing each other away while remaining inextricably linked.
Claire walked through the corridors with her chin high, her notes clutched to her chest. She wore a sharp, charcoal blazer and a look of utter indifference. When she passed Morgan in the hallway, she didn't even glance at him.
"Morning, Claire," Morgan called out, his voice loud enough for a group of freshmen to hear. "You look particularly... rigid today. Did you spend the weekend memorizing the dictionary again?"
Claire stopped and turned, her expression a mask of boredom. "I spent the week
