Celeste
The lecture was dragging on, and Professor Wayne’s voice faded into the background as I doodled absent-mindedly on my notebook. It was Friday, and it was my last class of the day. Statistics; my least favorite class of all time, but a required class for most majors.
Just as my attention was about to wane completely, Fiona’s elbow digging into my side broke through my reverie. I looked over to see her smirking at me and holding her phone out to me beneath the desk.
“Hey, did you hear? The dance team's holding tryouts. They need a new member.”
I furrowed my brow and took the phone, glancing casually at the screen. There, staring back at me, was a vibrant graphic made by the school’s dance team. It had a tryout announcement plastered in huge, purple text across the im
