In Zephyr Academy, Leonel dragged himself toward the main gate with his backpack dangling from one arm. His other hand clutched his stomach. His face looked like someone who had wrestled a sewer pipe and lost. He groaned, his throat raw from too much vomiting.
Why did they drink so much last night when both of them couldn't handle alcohol?
"Leo!"
Leonel blinked and squinted toward the road. A sleek Rolls-Royce hovered just inches above the cobblestones, its polished body gleaming under the morning sun. The window rolled down, revealing Isolde's tired face.
The car stopped, and she stepped out, her uniform slightly wrinkled, her hair tied back in a loose ponytail. She walked beside him, her usual confident stride slowed by fatigue.
"What happened to you?" she asked, noticing the greenish tint on his face.
