During the first semester of freshman year, everyone was still pretty restrained—worried about being late and scrambling to get excuse slips if they ever missed class.

By the first week of the second semester, people were still testing the waters with each teacher’s personality and tolerance.

Now, for the first class on Monday, only about two-thirds of the students were scattered across the tiered lecture hall.

College could be as free and easy as you wanted it to be, or as rigorous as senior year of high school, depending on whether you were willing to pay the price.

While Ning Chu often spaced out in class, she still listened with one ear, unlike some students who treated the classroom like a gaming lounge, pulling out their phones to gather friends and start a team battle.

She lay on her desk, wearing a knit hat under her jacket’s hood, with two small symmetrical bulges visible from beneath the fabric.

Her horns were now as long as her index finger and getting harder to hide, but she was still trying.