Tawny was racked with immense guilt.

While her best friend lay recovering in the nurse’s office of Ivoree Gates, the same question played repeatedly in Tawny’s head: How could she be so blind?

Maddie was her confidante, her ally through this hellish first semester at Ivoree Gates. By all accounts, she was the surrogate Ally, both in name and in status.

The realization that Maddie had it out for Ally was too much to take in. If Tawny couldn’t trust her, then who?

Tawny was in a daze when she walked back out into the crisp air of the school courtyard. The leaves had completely fallen off the grand trees; now a light, powdery snow was falling from the white overcast sky.

Tawny traversed alone, silently, through the forested region of Ivoree Gates. She needed time to think. She needed to decide her next move, and whether that next move would involve her having to switch dorm rooms to get away from Maddie.

And speak of the devil...the phone rang in Tawny’s pocket, it was Maddie’s name who flashed across the screen.

“You TRAITOR!” Tawny screamed, and in a fit of rage, she hurled the phone into a nearby tree.

Tawny regretted the move almost instantly; before she could contemplate what she had done, the phone shattered upon impact with the impervious hide of one the neighbouring oak trees.

“No no no....!” Tawny ran over to where her damaged phone rested and got to her knees, scooping up the remnants and disparaging that not only was the screen even more cracked, it had gone completely dead.

Tawny stared at the black, cracked screen of her phone, feeling her dispair grow with every passing second. As she blinked away tears, she looked up and noticed a flash of purple a few feet in the distance.

She gasped; she had seen that same colour traipsing through the woods a few weeks prior.

Only this time the figure belonging to the colour was much closer.

The woman approached in a long purple coat and tall black boots, her beautiful green scarf trailing behind her like an ephemeral emerald veil.

The woman paused by the tree and looked down at Tawny, looking every bit like some austere fairy queen goddess with the snow falling onto her long wavy brunette hair.

“It’s her,” Tawny realized. “Rebecca McCurdy.”

“Are you alright?” said Rebecca.

Tawny was struck dumb, unable. The portrait in Professor McCurdy’s home did not do the woman justice. Rebecca McCurdy was absolutely stunning. She suddenly felt very self-conscious of the blue puffer coat she was wearing, and imagined it made her look like a sad blueberry on the ground beside the boots of an angel. (To Tawny’s surprise, she did NOT hear chimes and bells play when Rebecca spoke, but rather an American, New England accent).

Rebecca knelt down so that her face was eye level with Tawny’s. She looked concerned. “I said, are you alright? You look a bit lost.”

Lost. That was the best way to describe Tawny’s current predicament. She had one friend in the hospital, another friend who may have potentially been a fraud, and now no phone to even call her mom and express her lamentations. Tawny simply nodded in response.

“You’re Tawny Matthews, right?” asked Rebecca.

“Wha--yes,” Tawny responded, caught off-guard by the line of questioning. “How do you know my name?”

The concern on Rebecca’s face melted away, giving rise to a warm, reassuring smile. “My husband’s told me a lot about you. Eugene talks about you all the time. He thinks very highly of you.”

Eugene. Professor McCurdy’s first name is Eugene. In spite of herself, Tawny felt her cheeks grow hot. In all the time she had been at Ivoree Gates, it had never crossed her mind to learn her teacher’s first name. Perhaps she preferred to maintain the mystique. Or perhaps, in her punchdrunk, love-addled brain, she just assumed there could be no other fitting, sapiosexual-appropriate moniker for McCurdy than simply “Professor”.

“Anyway,” continued Rebecca, breaking Tawny’s reverie. “All this talk of the illustrious ‘Miss Matthews’ has made me very curious to meet her in the flesh. And here you are! Funny I happen to find you during my daily walk.”

“Yeah, funny,” was all Tawny could muster as a reply. She was feeling increasingly awkward in the presence of this statuesque goddess. The same one that took her beloved teacher’s name. The same one who earned the privilege to breathlessly utter his first name so freely, unaware of the intoxicating allure of such carnal knowledge. Eugene...

“I was wondering...” said Rebecca. “If you’d like to join me for some afternoon tea. I’d love to take the time to chat with you. Unless, of course, you happen to be busy?”

Rebecca extended her hand and helped Tawny to her feet. It was then that Tawny noticed how tall Rebecca actually was. She must’ve had at least two feet on Tawny’s diminutive four-foot-five frame.

Could she dare deny beauty personified? Even if this woman had stolen Professor (Eugene) McCurdy’s heart, Tawny could not resist getting swept up in her charm.

“No, I’m not busy,” Tawny said. “And yes, tea would be nice. It’s really cold today.”

Once again, Rebecca graced Tawny with an award-winning smile, no doubt a staple of the McCurdy brand. “Lovely.”