During the morning, just before the sun raised over the horizon, while the boys' dorms would be silent with slumber, the girls were wide awake and preparing their beauty regiments all before breakfast . . .

      Girls rushed from room-to-room borrowing flat irons, shoes, liquid eyeliner, and even beauty tips. Some latched on corsets under their uniform tops to make their figures look thinner, or body-shaping tights under their skirts. Others rubbed lip stain on their cheeks for rosiness and tugged spongy purple rollers from their golden locks for extra bounce.

     Money Misfits and Scholarship girls alike twirled from space to space.

     There was the pressure to be more than pretty, they had to be perfect.

     The more pretty they could be, the more chance they had to attract a boy one level higher than themselves, in the hopes that one day they would be their wives.

     In all the crazy noise and bustle, Chloe grumpily woke up.

     Her hair was tangled all over her pillow, and her feet hung off the bed. She was not a graceful sleeper. Since her arrival to Darkwood, the morning rituals of the other girls forced her awake much earlier than she'd have liked.

     It was bad enough that she stayed up late studying, but when she finally could get some sleep, a few hours later she would hear pop music blasting and girls talking through her walls.

     Fine. She'd start her day, even if she didn't want to, she'd do it.

     She showered, brushed her teeth, brushed her hair, and moisturized her face. She placed a red ribbon headband against her dark hair and used mascara and . . . she was done. That was her routine, why was everyone else taking so long with theirs?

     Chloe slipped on her white coat and went to get breakfast.

     The dining hall was always open early. It smelled of croissants, hazelnut coffee, fresh-cut strawberries, and hot apple cider. One-by-one students lined up to enter the ordering line. Chloe shivered a bit. The line was moving way too slow and she stood in the chilly doorway.

     A plate with fresh-baked croissants scrambled eggs, and strawberries suddenly hung in front of Chloe's face. Her eyes looked to the hand that held that plate, and then the face.

     Dominic was smiling at her, "Good morning, White. You don't have to wait in line, I got breakfast for you."

     Well, Chloe certainly wasn't going to turn down the meal, especially not when it smelled so good.

     She stepped out of line and quickly took hold of the plate. "Thanks. Looks like you're feeling better."

     "Yes, that's thanks to you." Dominic stressed the 'you' part.

     Chloe didn't know what to even say to that.

     Dominic pulled out a chair at a nearby table and gestured for Chloe to sit. "After you."

     Okay, this was weird now. She was pretty sure boys in this century didn't pull out chairs for girls. Was this a joke?

     Chloe reluctantly sat in the offered seat and placed her plate down on the table. He then handed her a napkin . . . and she slowly took it. "Dominic?"

     He sat on the opposite end of the table. "Hm?"

     "Are you sure you're feeling better? Cause, you're acting kind of strange right now." She studied him carefully with a smile.

     Dominic pretended to look shocked. "What? So a guy stands in line for a good part of his morning to get breakfast for a girl and pulls out a chair for her and this makes him strange? Are you forgetting what I told you when you were in my room?"

     Oh, right.

     Chloe had chalked up Dominic's admission of a crush to being his fever talking. The idea of him having a crush on her kind of made her feel a little embarrassed.

     "I thought you were joking with me again." Chloe's voice sounded surprisingly quiet, even to herself.

     Dominic lifted up his cup of apple cider. "Don't worry, I won't make things odd for you. I mean, I might be the son of the woman who pitched you in this nightmare. Besides, it's just a fancy it's not like I feel besotted. Crushes come and go, it just takes a bit of time."

    Once Chloe's brain translated Dominic's 'Britishness' she felt bothered. She took feelings more seriously than he did. "I don't think you should make a crush sound like it's something so small and pointless. I've had crushes and nothing ever happened, they just stayed crushes from afar, but I really treasure those memories."

     His eyes took on that sort of smoldering gaze, and his English accent was thick when he said, "I've never had a crush before. I've dated or been attracted to girls, sure, but I've never felt those . . . what do you girls call them?"

     "Butterflies?" Chloe offered with awkwardness.

     "Yes, those. I've never felt . . . butterflies . . . until that day with you." Dominic admitted.

     She wasn't sure how to respond to that. Dominic lacked a filter, he said everything he felt. His eyes had a soft intensity and he looked at her like he could practically read her mind.

     He was much too honest, and she was much too transparent.

     Chloe tried to take her mind off it, at least a little bit. She gazed around the long dining hall and quickly noticed a single theme. Everyone was a Scholarship student, Money Misfit, or a Climber. There wasn't a single cranberry uniform present. That meant she wouldn't be able to run into Prince and find out what was wrong with him that day.

     "Do Elites just not eat breakfast?" She asked before even realizing that she switched the subject.

     Dominic leaned back in his seat and placed his cider on the table. "You're looking for Prince, aren't you?"

     Her face reddened. "There's just something I need to talk to him about."

     "He visited me you know when I was sick and all." Dominic's tone didn't make it sound like the visit was welcomed.

     "Really? How did that go?" Chloe was glad Prince had listened to her, but she wasn't going to tell Dominic that he visited based on her suggestion.

     "Well, our dear friend Prince usually doesn't visit me like that. He normally keeps our friendship very secretive, so I was baffled when he arrived. At first, I thought he was concerned for me being sick, but he actually came to talk about you." He pointed towards her with his final word.

    Chloe's eyes widened. "Wait, what? What did he say to you?"

    He looked up, thinking. "I don't think I'd be a very good friend if I told you that information. If you're curious, wait for him to tell you."

    That was easier said than done. Prince didn't seem like the type to easily share what he felt or thought, and the only place she knew she'd find him was the classroom, and she definitely couldn't talk to him during class.

     Dominic placed another croissant onto her plate. Her eyes met his with curiosity.

     Why was he giving her his last croissant?

     His eyebrows raised. "What? It's a crush, remember?"

     She bit into the croissant to hide her smile.

     Okay, so she had to admit—he was just a little bit cute. . .