Academy of Magic Collection

by Angelique S Anderson et al.

  Cora started walking next to me. I was at least a head taller than she was. Everything about her was thin, elflike, lithe. Compared to her, I felt like an elephant stomping around, and my self-consciousness played up again, the demon that never quite wanted to let go of me.

  “Oh, come on, Dante,” Cora said. “You said A, time to start spilling the beans on B. You haven’t told the new girl yet why people can’t go near the east wing.” She turned toward me and, on a conspiring tone said, “Dante’s so obsessed with the east wing he even wrote a composition about it last year.”

  Dante’s features turned from friendly to ice-cold in a millisecond. “I’ll see you in class.”

  Before I could stop him, he strode away, leaving me baffled.

  “Don’t worry about it,” Cora said. “It’s my fault, I shouldn’t have mentioned that song he composed about the east wing. He doesn’t like to talk about it.”

  “He just stormed off…” I felt bad. Even though it wasn’t something I said, Dante had been friendly to me, had tried to make me feel welcome, and I felt bad that he was upset.

  “He’ll calm down, just give him some time,” Cora reassured me. “So, you have Music Theory too, right? Nearly all of us in Group Four have it, but I want to make sure I don’t take you to the wrong classroom.”

  “Yes,” I replied, glancing in the direction Dante stormed off to. I hoped he was okay. “Was it that horrible? His music composition?”

  “No, no,” Cora responded as we walked. “Far from it. It was the best piece he's written to date. Everyone was pleased about it, including the teacher. She called it ‘a startling but effective mix of Vivaldi and Beethoven', if I recall correctly.”

  “Then why is he so upset about it?”

  She shrugged. “He called it ‘East Wing', so all of us thought he'd gone inside the east wing one day and had been inspired by the ancient rooms and hidden secrets in there. But whenever we ask about it, he just shuts down and walks away.”

  “That’s weird.”

  “Anyway, we haven’t been formally introduced,” she said. “Cora.” She held out a hand. “But Dante calls me Imp, so if you hear him talking about Imp, that’s me.”

  “Does he have nicknames for everyone? He keeps on calling me Scaredy-cat.” Part of me was slightly hurt that he didn’t just have a nickname for me, but for Cora too—oh gigantic ego of mine, how easily you bruise.

  “Not everyone,” Cora replied, “only for people he likes. I've known him since I started here, four years ago. He’s a funny guy, but also a bit of a loner. He gets these moods.”

  “Moods?”

  “Yep. He can be very talkative for days, like literally not shut up for a second, and then suddenly push everyone away for weeks in a row. Last time, it took me days to get a single word out of him.” She shrugged. “I’ve learned to live with it. He’s my friend, but I doubt those mood swings of him will ever change.”

  I didn’t know what else to say, so we walked in silence for a while until she stopped in front of a door. “Anyway, we’re here. Want to sit next to me?”

  As I followed her into the classroom, sitting down at the desk next to hers, I decided that my first day in Allegro Academy wasn’t that bad after all. I’d ran into Nathan, who promised to escort me to the tailor after class. I’d talked to Dante, who seemed like a nice guy, even if he was suffering from mood swings. And I’d met Cora, who might even become my friend.

  But still, as I tried to take notes and focus during class, my mind kept wandering back to Dante, to the symphony he composed and to how, when Cora mentioned it, he’d ran away as if the devil was on his heels…

  Chapter Four

  Dante didn’t show back up for Music Theory, nor for the class after that, so by lunch time, I hadn’t seen him again and I felt a little guilty, even though Cora was the one who’d made the comment that had him run off in the first place.

  As I walked out the classroom, Nathan was waiting for me as he promised. He didn’t notice me at first as I walked out the room, flanked by Cora, but then he looked up, at me, and a wide smile flashed across his features.

  Don’t melt right on the spot, Alanis. Get a grip. Stay calm.

  “Hey.” Nathan moved over toward us. “Ready to go get that uniform? If you don’t mind, I’d like to get going since I’m starving. I could drop dead from starvation any second now.”

  Cora frowned at me, a curious smile on her face, probably wondering how I’d already met Nathan although I had only been here for a day.

  “Sorry to bail on you. I’ll see you at lunch?” I asked her.

  “Sure.” She didn’t seem to mind and waved after me as I followed Nathan.

  “I’ll try to be as fast as humanly possible,” I told him, falling back into the age-old pattern of rambling non-stop whenever a guy was around. “To be honest, I’m starving too. Skipping breakfast didn’t turn out to be such a good idea.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Nathan dismissed my concern with a wave of his hand. “How were your classes?”

  Why do you keep asking me questions, Nathan Hilliard? I’ll just end up giving long, needlessly complicated, rambling answers because I’m way too nervous around you, and you’ll think I’m way too boring, way too talkative, way too annoying. Inner-Alanis was kind of hoping Nathan would stop asking me questions, but outside-Alanis was already furiously rambling off an answer.

  “Uhm, well, classes were all right, but in Musical History, the teacher, Mr. Leeroy, was extremely annoyed that I was late and wasn’t wearing the proper uniform. I liked Music Theory. Oh, and I need to practice a lot, because my violin skills are behind when compared to the rest of the group.”

  I hadn’t stopped to take a single breath during my entire monologue.

  Alanis, you’re a babbling moron.

  Still, when I glanced at Nathan, he didn’t seem annoyed. Instead, he appeared relaxed, maybe even slightly amused at my nervousness.

  Maybe he likes me.

  Or maybe, the saner part of my mind said, he’s just trying to be nice to the new kid.

  “If you need violin practice, I can help,” Nathan suggested.

  “Oh.” As if being a rambling idiot wasn’t annoying enough, the way my mind slipped from babbling-mode to mute-mode was truly astonishing. “Uhm…”

  Mute for two seconds, back to rambling. “You don’t have to. I mean, you’re already doing more than enough showing me around, and you don’t have to sacrifice your time trying to help me—”

  “Stop.” Nathan put a hand on my arm, halting me. “Stop. I don’t mind at all.” He looked at me for a moment. When his gaze met mine, I thought my body would explode into a million butterflies that would consume the room, the manor, maybe even the entire world.

  “I don’t mind helping you.”

  His words sounded like music from the heavens, like a melody meant especially for me, like the sound a violin makes in capable hands, when you softly touch the strings…

  “Now, let’s get going?” Nathan’s voice pulled back to earth, and I nodded, following him again.

  He probably thinks I’m a charity case, and he’s trying to be nice.

  Still, if he was doing it out of pity or not, part of me could already imagine late-night practices together in abandoned classrooms with dim lights.

  We reached the basement floor. On the landing were five different doors marked “archives”, “tailor”, “utilities”, “cleaning” and “basement”. Obviously, Nathan knocked on the door marked “tailor”.

  Seconds later, a woman said, “come in.”

  We walked inside, and immediately, the smell of clothes—new clothes mixed with the riper, older scent of second-handed clothes—overwhelmed me. From all sides, we were surrounded by closets filled with uniforms and coats. In the middle of the room stood a sewing table, and behind it was a blonde woman in her thirties wearing a pencil skirt, and a blouse with our school logo.

  Allegro Academy’s logo was, fittingly, a violin cross
ed with a piano. From what I’d read online, the founding families had been particularly fond of those instruments, and had played them themselves.

  The woman got up. “How can I help you?” she asked. “Oh, hello Nathan.”

  “Good afternoon, Mrs. Rivers,” Nathan said. “We’re here because Alanis doesn’t have an uniform yet.”

  He gestured toward me, and I instantly was covered in goosebumps. I would rather that the ground beneath me opened up and hell swallowed me right here and there, than that Mrs. Rivers asked for my size, in front of Nathan, which I feared from the way she seized me up.

  “How come you didn’t make it here yesterday, honey?” Mrs. Rivers asked as she walked toward one of the closets.

  “Uhm…” Thank God she hasn’t asked yet… Please don’t ask, please don’t ask. “My plane had a delay.”

  “Oh, I see.” Mrs. Rivers chuckled. “I always forget how our students come from all corners of the world. I’ve always lived close to Allegro Academy; for me it’s only a twenty minutes’ drive.”

  She pulled one of the uniforms from the closet and held it in front of her for a second, inspecting the uniform. “Seems about right.” She handed the uniform to me. “There’s a fitting room in the back.” If it doesn’t fit, give me a sign and I’ll get you another size.”

  I nodded and, palms sweaty, I took the uniform from her and stumbled over to the fitting room. God, I know I never pray, but now’s as good a time as any… Can you please make it fit?

  Once inside the fitting room, I pulled the curtains close and stared at the uniform. The label, so small I could barely read it, said “large”. Thank Heavens, at least now there’s a chance this would actually fit, and I wouldn’t have to ask another size.

  The memory of an event that happened last year, still haunted me. I had gone shopping with Sam in the local mall. I had gone over to ask the shopkeeper if she had a particular dress in a size large, and she replied, so loud the entire store—which also, unfortunately for me, included some girls from our school who were shopping down another aisle—could hear if that would be ‘large’ or ‘extra-large’. I practically died from embarrassment.

  Thankfully, Mrs. Rivers had more tact. I pulled the blazer over my head, and the skirt over my knees. It was a little tight, but it fit.

  I breathed out a sigh of relief and looked at myself through the mirror.

  With the school emblem flaunting proudly on my blouse, I felt as if I belonged here. As if I was part of Allegro Academy after all. As if my dream of playing violin for a theater full of people was within reach. I could already see myself standing there, wearing a long, black dress, every seat in the room taken, all people looking at me, expectantly.

  “Does it fit?” Mrs. Rivers’ voice cut through my daydream.

  “Yes.” I opened up the curtain and stepped outside, a little hesitantly.

  “Turn around,” Mrs. Rivers said.

  I whirled around, quite timidly. I could feel Nathan’s eyes on my back as I turned, and I doubted I had ever felt so self-conscious in my life.

  “Perfect fit,” Mrs. Rivers concluded. “Now, all you need to do is sign some paperwork, and then I’ll give you another two sets of those uniforms. Whenever it's dirty, put it in the laundry basket. We pick those up at the end of the week, and clean everything during the weekends. Laundry usually comes back Sunday evening. All students only have three sets of the uniform, so try to keep it clean as long as possible.”

  “Okay, I will.” Mrs. Rivers put some papers on the sewing table, and bending over, I signed them all one by one. When I finished, I looked up and saw my own reflection in the mirror opposite the sewing table.

  Beautiful.

  The thought popped in my mind immediately, but at the same time…it wasn’t my thought. It sounded impossible, and I couldn’t explain, but the thought didn’t come from me. It felt like it came from some outside source, from something outside of me.

  You know that’s not possible, Alanis. You’re probably just exhausted. Maybe it’s such a strange thought for you to consider yourself beautiful, and that’s why you think it’s someone else’s thought.

  Obviously, my logic was correct again—I couldn’t just be thinking someone else’s thoughts, that was impossible.

  “Ready to grab some food?” Nathan asked, interrupting my inner monologue. “I’m starving.”

  “Sure.”

  Mrs. Rivers helped me put the other uniforms in a paper bag, along with the clothes I had on this morning. “If you need anything else, any buttons come off, anything that needs sewing, you know where to find me,” she said before Nathan and I left the basement.

  I waved at her, then Nathan closed the door marked as “tailor” and we went up the basement staircase.

  As we walked in silence for a little while, I wondered about the basement stairs. It was far less grand than the stairwell on the first floor. Back in the olden days, this was probably only used by servants, and they probably worked or slept in the basement rooms. I shivered slightly—the basement was not that threatening with the lights on, but with the lights off, I imagined it could look pretty spooky.

  “So,” Nathan said, interrupting my thoughts. “How long have you been playing?”

  “Since I was three years old. I found my Mom’s old violin in the attic, and apparently, I became obsessed with it.” I lowered my voice. “My Mom used to play the violin, before she passed away.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s all right; it was a long time ago. I didn’t even really know her, she passed away before I turned two, so I have no real memories of her anyway. My Grandma raised me after that.”

  “What about your father?” Then, as if he realized his mistake, he quickly added, “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to pry. You don’t have to answer that.”

  “I don’t know my father. Anyone’s best guess is that he was a musician too, maybe someone my mother worked with in her career. But she always kept it a secret from my Grandma and when she passed away…” I shrugged. It felt slightly uncomfortable telling my life story, albeit in a nutshell, to a stranger. Still, Nathan’s presence was comforting, and he seemed kind and understanding. If I wanted to make some friends here, I had to allow myself to open up and share. “Well, no one ever stepped forward, and I have no idea who he is.”

  “God, that’s… I can’t imagine what it’s like, but it must be horrible.”

  “I struggled with it a lot, but I’m over it. Sort of. I mean, my Grandma raised me and loved me like a mother would.” I coughed, eager to change the topic—there was sharing and over-sharing, and I didn’t want to bother him with my tragic history. “Anyway, how about you?”

  Nathan chuckled. “My parents are two of the most prominent donators of the Academy. I doubt they'd refuse the only son of their largest investors."

  I contemplated this for a second. “I doubt that’s the only reason. You’re in Group Six, so you must have some talent.” It was meant as a joke, and I only realized he could take it the wrong way after the words had escaped my mouth.

  To my relief, he laughed. “Yeah, we’ll see about that when we practice together.”

  Thinking about his earlier suggestion to practice with me, made my cheeks turn red. Will you always act so awkward around this guy, Alanis?

  Probably, my other inner voice responded, because he’s drop-dead-gorgeous and I’m an ugly duckling, and sometimes just looking at him makes me feel as if I shouldn’t even be standing in his shadow.

  “Anyway, here’s the lunchroom.” Nathan pushed open the large, double doors leading to one of the most old-fashioned cafeterias I had ever seen. It resembled the grand hall from Hogwarts in the Harry Potter movies, except in a smaller, less overwhelming version. The tables were smaller, the windows only ran two floors high, and the room wasn’t as gigantic—but still pretty large, stretching out for at least thirty meters. Small, mahogany wooden tables for four to ten pupils were scattered across the room in random patterns. Giant
chandeliers from eras long passed swayed back and forth over the students’ heads.

  I closed my eyes for a second, breathing in the air of dust and wood, the air of history. Standing there with my eyes shut, I imagined what the room would’ve looked like a hundred years ago, maybe even two hundred years ago. A banquet room or ball room, with people dancing around in wide, overflowing, swirly dresses, music echoing in the background. A soft melody, a forgotten whisper of centuries ago.

  I could almost hear the music. Impossible, of course, but the image was so vivid, of those women swirling around, and those men turning graciously on their heels on the rhythm of this imaginary music, that it almost became real.

  When I opened my eyes again, the imaginary, historical ball room had vanished, but the melody remained, and I hummed it softly.

  Nathan stared at me with one eyebrow raised.

  “Sorry, I completely zoned out,” I apologized. “I wanted to picture this room the way it was, long ago.”

  “No problem,” Nathan waved my concerns away. “If you’re interested in the manor’s history, I spotted some pictures of how this room used to look like, way back, in one of the rehearsal rooms. I can show you, if you want?”

  “That would be great.” I grinned sheepishly at him, and followed the student standing in front of me, moving in line to get some food. Apparently, we had the option between three meals: salmon salad, chicken breast, and a vegetarian dish, some kind of goat’s cheese in puff pastry. I picked up the veggie dish and waited for Nathan at the end of the line.

  The blonde girl who bumped into me on purpose this morning, Elise, waved at Nathan from a table in the middle of the room. Nathan didn’t seem to notice her, as he looked down at the contents of his plate with a less-than-happy look on his face.

  I contemplated ignoring Elise’s frantic waves and inviting Nathan to eat with me, but on the other hand… I shouldn’t be a jerk. I should try to be nice.

  So, slightly reluctantly, I pointed in her direction and told Nathan, “your friend is waving.”