BARACUDA

After embarrassing myself by crying on a voicemail that would probably not be heard by anyone but the call centre, I drag my pitiful self to Adelaide Monday morning, my uniform feeling more like a prison cage than a mandatory attire. I walk into the hallway and immediately notice that the air is different.

Not the literal air, but something is definitely up at Adelaide and it's not the Founder's Statue in the garden. The morning bell is yet to be rung but Adelaide is buzzing with chit chat, which is completely normal because it's high school. But this chit chat is different and I don't have to look further to find out what the big hallway gossip is this time around.