FREYA'S POV
Freya sighed as she stared at the trays of food in her hands. She was at a loss whether she should take the food to the class.
“Seriously? They both had to leave her here like this?” She thought.
Huffing, she set the trays on the table, no longer having an appetite, and made her way out of the cafeteria with her bag and Tiffany's bag.
Trudging along the hallway that would lead her to class, she suddenly came face to face with Mary.
This girl better not get on my nerves. She muttered as she tried to pass by Mary and her minions.
“Not so fast, Fred,” Mary said, blocking her path.
“It's Freya, not Fred. I never knew you had a problem with pronunciation.” Freya retorted, clenching her fists.
“Oh, but Freya used to be Fred. I just find calling you Fred more befitting.” Mary
