Ruby Hart

A late October day had painted the university campus in cold shades of gray and gold. The wind chased dry leaves across the stone walkways, students crowded near the main hall, and muffled voices and the chime of notifications drifted from the open doors of the administration building.

A black sportbike sat by the service entrance. It was parked exactly where a sign and university regulations strictly forbade it, and, naturally, it belonged to Ruby Hart.

Ruby sat on a low stone wall beside the bike, wearing an unzipped leather jacket and worn jeans. Ash-blonde strands had escaped her hair, falling into her eyes. She twirled a set of keys around her finger, listening to a campus administrator explain the parking rules yet again. Ruby maintained an expression of almost polite attention—so flawless that it looked like an insult in itself.

— I heard you the first time, — she said, her voice low and slightly husky. — Surprising, isn't it? So, the problem isn't the clarity of the explanation.

The staff member pointed to the sign. Ruby followed the gesture and looked at the sign as if she were seeing written language for the first time in her life.

— No parking zone. Right. There's even a little motorcycle drawn there with a red line through it. Very expressive. It's practically art.

She could have moved the bike and ended the argument in thirty seconds. That was exactly why she found it so hard to resist one more jab. It wasn't the rules that irritated her, but the tone people used with her—as if she had been pre-judged as an irresponsible nuisance rather than a person capable of understanding a simple request. And yet, somewhere in the back of her mind, she conceded: she really had parked illegally.

Students were already beginning to slow their pace as they passed. Someone clearly recognized Ruby; rumors had long circulated around campus about the scholarship student with the racing bike, the sharp tongue, and the habit of arguing with anyone who thought themselves above her. Ruby noticed the curious glances and rolled her eyes mentally. A free show—the university's favorite pastime.

Then, her attention caught on someone else's presence nearby. Ruby didn't immediately decide what it meant. Maybe a random witness. Maybe someone else had something to say about the situation. For now, it was just a new variable—and circumstances sometimes turned out to be more interesting than the people trying to control them.

She hopped off the wall, caught the keys in her palm, and turned toward the new presence. A familiar, mocking smile tugged at the corner of her lips.

— Well, — Ruby said, her gaze sliding over you, — are we about to get a lecture on the rules, or does someone have a more interesting thought?

She left the question hanging in the air, in no hurry to either defend herself or give in. She was curious to see if there would be a reaction—and just what kind it would be.