The second-year representative, Roxy Telen, was about as antithetical to the previous encounter as it could get.

She wandered into Ivy’s office, a general confusion to her posture. “Um,” she said, scratching the back of her head as she looked around Ivy’s office. “You’re the Headmaster, right? I’m not good with directions.”

It was Ivy’s turn to be caught off guard.

“Indeed,” she said coolly. “Miss Telen, is it?”

She wrinkled her nose. “Miss Telen? Nah … that’s my mom. Just Roxy, please.”

Ivy took a second to respond, disoriented by the nonchalance.

For some reason, she’d been expecting all of Ravenwood’s students to be endlessly proud, endlessly filled with their own self-impressions, as would be fitting for young girls with such responsibility and prestige placed on their shoulders. But clearly not.

“I apologize for the interruption,” Ivy said. “Today is surely busy for you, with moving in and preparing for the school year. But I thought it wise to confirm my representatives.”

“Okay …?” Roxy said.

They stared at each other.

“Tell me about yourself, Miss Telen,” Ivy prompted, at a bit of a loss.

“What about?”

She tried leveling the same disapproving look she’d given Avril, but it had less than zero effect – instead, Roxy just waited for an answer, not remotely intimidated.

“Your circumstances to becoming representative,” Ivy said, her confidence being the one to drain away, this time – not to insecurity, but into a general sense of confusion. This was who had been instated as the girl fit to represent an entire year's worth of students? Why?

“Oh … that.” Roxy scratched her nose. “Uh, I guess it just happened.”

A silence.

“Just … happened?” Ivy asked.

“I didn’t really want to be representative, to be honest. I just kept scoring so high, I got shoehorned into it.” A hopeful gleam appeared in her eye. “Do you think you could pick someone else? The whole ‘leading’ thing isn’t really my gig, you know? I’m more of a … go with the flow kinda girl. I hate having to tell people they can’t do this, or can’t do that.” She laughed. “I mean, considering what kinds of things I get into? Man, so hypocritical, isn’t it?”

Jesus.

Ivy was really going to need to take a different approach here. But where to even begin?

Ysulla had mentioned the three year’s representatives, specifically, were who Ivy needed to corrupt most thoroughly. So replacing them was off the table; the implied threat had been to set them off guard. But it sounded, unfortunately, like that was what Roxy wanted. To be replaced. So Ivy needed to pivot from that attack vector. But in what direction?

Ivy chewed over her options, keeping her face blank. Always a good default.

“A representative’s duties aren’t for you?” Ivy asked eventually.

“Not really,” Roxy said. “But yeah, ‘duty’ and all that.” She made quotation marks with her fingers, irreverence plain; Ivy almost laughed in bewilderment. “No need to run over that whole seminar again. I’ll do what I gotta.”

Ivy needed a second to formulate her response.

“You’d prefer a more casual approach?” she asked.

“Well … yeah?” Roxy said. Her brow furrowed down. “That’s what I just said.”

“And you think that’d be better for the students?”

She laughed, then blinked, realizing the inappropriateness of the response. She moderated herself.  “Well, I mean, Ravenwood is kind of a fu–” she pursed her lips. “Kind of strict, for no reason. So yeah, I don’t think being so stringent with everything helps anyone.”

“You have suggestions? Feel free to be honest.” She somehow felt that clarification wasn’t necessary; that ‘honest’ wasn’t something Roxy struggled with.

“Huh.” She ran a hand through her short black hair, dyed with streaks of blue. “Well, the uniform is kinda jank, isn’t it?”

“Elaborate?”

“Why’s it so medieval? Skirts below the knees? It’s like, the fifteenth century, isn’t it? Not the first.”

“Modesty is important,” Ivy said carefully. “Society looks up to you girls. They watch your actions and behave accordingly. You realize that, surely?”

“Yeah, yeah … I know. But isn’t expression important? And seriously, showing off knees isn’t like they’re whoring themselves –” she cleared her throat, realizing what she’d said but not addressing it, “it’s not like they’re showing anything important. It’s medieval policy. Among, like, half of Ravenwood’s rules. That’s just one that came to mind.”

Ivy made a show of considering her words.

“I have influence within Ravenwood … as is obvious. And my representatives weren’t chosen recklessly. I trust my faculty’s decisions, so if you think it’d benefit our institution … I’m willing to take your advice. A change to our uniform policy is, perhaps, overdue.”

Roxy blinked, clearly not having expected anything resembling agreement.

“Really?” she asked, disbelief plain.

“Your opinion matters, Miss Telen. I listen to those I appoint to power. What would be the point, otherwise?”

Roxy wrinkled her nose, and it took Ivy a second to realize why.

“Miss Roxy,” Ivy corrected. “My apologies. Miss Telen is your mother.”

The wrinkle disappeared, and she even laughed. 

“Well …” she finally said. “That’d be pretty cool of you, if you did that.” She hesitated. “I really do think it’s for the best. I’m not someone who speaks out of her ass, you know? That’s not my style.”

Ivy nodded in agreement.

Roxy smiled, genuinely pleased with how things were going. “Okay. Word. Is that all you wanted? My opinions?”

“For now, Miss Roxy,” Ivy said pleasantly. “I just wanted to meet with each of you.”

The smile widened. “Okay.” She paused. “You know, forgive the frankness and all that, but I thought you’d  have a stick up your –” again, she cut off. “You’d be an old fashioned person, I mean. I’ll tell people you aren’t so bad. Feel free to call on me, yeah?”

“Definitely,” Ivy said amusedly – one of her first genuine reactions in this whole charade.

“Alright,” Roxy said, walking to the door. “Just let me know, Miss D.”

Miss D … she had to stifle a laugh as Roxy left.

How fitting. 

‘Miss D’.

Ysulla

Keeping chapters short and punchy, to allow more frequent updates. Let me know if they don't feel long enough, and are distracting for the fact.

Maybe pointing it out is a bad idea ...

(You're breathing manually, now.) <-- That's what I just did, but story-wise

One more representative to introduce. Let me know which girls you're most interested in ... I don't mind having comments drive part of the story.