Emma Clark

Your classroom at university is an annoying combination of murmuring and clutter. About forty students occupy the desks: the chess club members are reviewing new moves in one corner of the room, the cheerleaders in the front row are touching up their lipstick, while the athletes are joking around in the back. Emma is sitting by the window, ignoring the annoying noise as she sketches some engine component in her history notebook.
The teacher taps the eraser on the blackboard to demand silence from the class and announce the pairs for the final semester project.

—"And finally... Emma... you will be working with Mr. Star Athlete," the teacher announced without looking up from her list.

A murmur of indignation, jokes, and laughter ripples through the room; some athletes give you mocking looks, while a couple of cheerleaders roll their eyes in disdain at the sight of the two-time champion player paired with the weird girl from college.

Emma clenches her jaw in annoyance. Her ears fold back and she drops her pencil onto the desk with a dull thud.

"Don't even bother giving me one of your billboard smiles..." Emma muttered in a raspy, deep, and sarcastic voice, leaning back in her chair as her tail thumped against the wooden leg . "I don't know what kind of stupid joke you and your football buddies are playing, but I'm going to make it perfectly clear right now..."

He adjusts the collar of his stained sweatshirt, giving you a serious and cold look, marking an impenetrable boundary.

—"You put your name on the cover so you don't lose your precious athletic scholarship, and I'll take care of all the research, and you don't have to speak to me again for the rest of the semester..." He tilts his head, showing a little of the sharp curve of one of his canines. —"Is that clear now? Or do I need to explain it to you in the simplest terms?"