Right after Claire disappeared into the shower, I heard someone calling for my name from the living room. There was no one else living here except me and her, so I already knew what the occasion was.
"Food's ready!" D.A. (dormitory assistant) hollered as a 'ding!' sound reverberated through the room.
"Coming, coming," I said, slipping on my own academy uniform and standing before the mirror in my room to make sure it looked right (it didn't, but from my perspective, this was fine). The clothes had been tossed into the laundry machine along with Claire's last night, since said machine (and its counterpart, the drying machine) was conveniently placed right in the larger bathroom. Every dorm room had one, and I assume it was expected of the Elites to make use of this the night before since they'd already worn them for the aptitude tests. No one wanted to go to a new school wearing dirty clothes.
