“You can’t hide in here all night, Leta.”

In response, the eighteen-year-old young woman mustered a long, dramatic groan that lasted approximately ten seconds and filled the entire kitchen. The marble countertop was slick and cool against her forehead, where she dropped it dramatically and covered her head with her arms. From the dining hall nearby, she could hear the murmurs of a hundred voices chattering, boasting, laughing — the warm, happy din of a Concordia party in her very own sprawling home. A Concordia party she was determined to avoid. Continue reading →