I remained silent, having no clue how to respond to a potential compliment, knowing that it was more likely she said that to everyone.
She went on. "Have you taken your SATs?"
My stomach clamped on itself. I knew I should have taken them last year, but I never stepped foot back in the guidance office to find out how. I couldn't afford it anyway.
"No, I didn't get a chance," I said
"Oh, well, that's a priority. You'll need to register right away, before the deadline for the October test." She wrote a website on a sticky note and gave it to me. "There's an additional thirty-dollar fee if you register late."
My eyes fell.
"What?" she asked. "Is payment a challenge for you?"
Wow. It was like she was psychic.
"Actually, yes."
"And that's why you didn't take them last year, as well?" she asked.
I nodded.
"Have your parents considered completing an application for free and reduced lunch? If they do that, then you will be able to get fee waivers for everything else." She waited for my reply.
"Well, it's just my mom, and she never gets around to doing the paperwork for my schools." I avoided eye contact as I waited for the pity party.
"Okay, let me take care of it," she said, reaching into a stack of papers and pulling out a form. "This is an SAT fee waiver. Use this code at the bottom when filling out the online registration. You should be all set." She passed the document to me. "Let me know of anything else you need assistance with. I have my ways of helping out." She grinned and wiggled her eyebrows.
I couldn't hide my elated feelings, and a smile lit up my face. Taking the SAT was huge. It would bring me one step closer to my college dream.
"Oh, and as far as college goes," she added. "I have application fee waivers, too, and will help you navigate financial aid so we can find something perfect for you. Trust me."
My eyes lit up.
Holy shit.
Someone was helping me. I had no idea it was even possible to apply for college in my situation. My heart nearly burst out of my chest.
"Thank you so much, Ms. Kelly. This really means a lot to me," I gushed, nearly crying.
"Of course. That's what I'm here for," she said. Then after a brief pause, she added, "There's one thing I want you to do."
Oh, here it comes—the catch. There was always a catch.
She continued, "I want you to join my advisory group."
Say what now?
"What's that?" I crossed my arms.
"Every student at Lakefield is in an advisory group. It meets once a week during X-block. Students can ask questions or raise concerns and basically build connections with other students they typically wouldn't associate with. It's a community-building initiative. I think you would fit in well with my group."
Interesting.
Particularly since I didn't fit in well... anywhere.
"I guess," I mumbled.
"No, I insist," she said, leaving no room for negotiation. "See you third block, X block."
Chapter Three
Keeping my eyes stuck to my schedule, I navigated the hallways like a champ.
The room numbers were fairly basic, all first-floor classrooms beginning with a one and second-floor starting with a two. Check. Wings A, B, C, and D—all major subjects, each with their own wing. Check. Turning into my first period class before the bell and bumping right into beautiful boy. Not check.
In my haste, I turned into my AP English class and bumped right into him as he was setting his backpack down.
"Sorry. Crap." I mumbled, shimmying past him.
"Oh, new girl," he pointed his finger at me in recognition and smiled. "Welcome to literary hell," he warned.
His smile left me temporarily blind and mute. Not knowing what to say, I kept my focus on my escape to the first available seat.
Settling in, I replayed his words in my mind. New Girl. Obnoxious. Literary hell. Okay, so this class must have a reputation of being a killer. Heads-up appreciated.
At least I had him to distract me from the torture.
What? No! Head down. No contact.
He remained turned around and his eyes stuck to me like glue but, I ignored him as best as possible.
What was his deal? Why couldn't he just ignore me? I clearly wasn't that interesting.
His attention wasn't the only thing smothering me, though. Two gorgeous girls sitting right behind him glared at me now, like they were his protective minions. Their perfect hair and make-up, and impeccable fashion sense, caused instant insecurity to poison my veins.
Ugh. I hated that feeling!
No matter how fake or mean I knew they were, their disapproving glares still always hit me in my self-loathing weakness.
Obviously, beautiful boy was theirs and how dare I even consider bumping into him like a moron.
Sticking to my rule-number-one, I kept my eyes down, averting all possible interaction and therefore, altercation. I needed a re-set to help me fade back into oblivion.
Picking at the dark eggplant color under my nails, I wished for the seconds to move faster. Without looking up, it was clear all eyes were on me.
Come on, teacher. Can't you see we are ready for learning?
Oh my god. My guidance counselor was right.
I put a lot of focus on my academics. Clearly, it was my shield. My escape.
Finally, the teacher came in, and all eyes turned forward, off me.
Thankfully, his bad suit and shiny bald head were distraction enough. Judging by every student's straightened spine and eyes forward, I had to assume he was a strict, no BS teacher.
"Good morning class," he stated. "I'm Mr. Benson. Welcome to AP English Literature. I’m sure you are all here on recommendation from last year's teachers." His eyes fell on me as if I didn't belong, and then he started again. "We have a lot to cover in a short amount of time and..."
Blah, blah, blah.
My mind turned to more exciting topics. All I needed from him was direction and what pages to study. I'd take care of the rest.
I was more intrigued by the protective body language of the mean girls and their eyes plastered on beautiful boy.
Okay, I had to stop calling him that. It was just wrong. But at the moment, it seemed so right.
My eyes moved around the room. In an instant, I cataloged the social standing of every student, their aspirations, and their apparent attempts at gaining favor from the it-girls and anyone else who would pay attention. Even though it was senior year, the same pathetic maneuvers were happening all around me.
The students were much like every teenager in every high school across the country—a broad mix of cultures and attitudes, skin tones and nationalities. It was very real-world here, and I liked the natural feel of it. The only difference from my previous experiences, though, was that these kids were more entitled. They flaunted all the name brands and shiny new kicks, brand new cell phones and techno-watches galore. Underneath all the privilege, though, were the same insecure, frightened adolescents. Only, with all the gadgets and glam, they had a lot to hide behind to disguise their true fears.
Then Mr. Benson's voice broke through my multiple layers of processing as he called attendance.
"Benjamin Drake."
"Here."
"Sam Frye."
"Here."
More names and I zoned out again.
Then my eyes shot wide as he called the next name.
"Dominic Murphy."
Beautiful boy lifted his hand.
"Yeah, here. Dom," he replied.
My breath stopped as I heard his name. Finally. A name.
"Elaine Rosco," Mr. Benson continued.
"Laney," pretty-girl-number-one said, flipping her perfectly straightened hair behind her shoulder and smirking.
Mr. Benson hesitated from the display, then said, "Okay. Seth Tilman."
"Here."
Mr. Benson was reaching the end of the alphabet and hadn
't called my name yet. Damn it. I didn't want to have to draw any unnecessary attention to myself. What if my name wasn't on his list? What if I was in the wrong room? My heart rate accelerated, causing my face to burn. Humiliation approached and hovered just around the corner.
Mr. Benson's voice punched me in the face as he added, "And a late addition to my roster, new student, Douglas Brynn." His eyes searched the room.
I snapped to attention in horror.
No, he did not. He did not just call my last name first.
I shrank in my chair. Jesus Christ, Mr. Benson. Really?
I lifted my hand slightly, noting the shake in my fingers.
"Um, it's Brynn. Brynn Douglas," I choked.
He checked his roster once again.
"Oh, right. Sorry," he replied. "Welcome, Brynn."
His voice faded out as I caught the snickers of the pretties. I was fairly sure my new nickname was going stick, probably behind my back at first. I supposed there could be worse names than Douglas, but it was just the sheer fact that they had ammunition already. Shit. They made no attempt at hiding their chastising, and somehow, this time, it actually mattered.
Because of Dom.
Fuck.
My cardinal rule. Broken.
Everything was already falling to shit.
Second period had its own laundry list of issues.
First of all, it was AP Physics, and the teacher had a hands-off approach, assuming we were all capable of teaching ourselves. And the class mix, well, it was all the pre-med and engineering wanna-bes. At least this would be a less drama-filled class, I hoped.
"You seem really calm for just starting in a new school," the girl next to me leaned in and whispered.
Her warm brown eyes felt safe, and I shrugged one shoulder.
"I guess I like this class better than my last one," I said.
"What did you have?" she asked, pushing her long black hair behind her ear.
"Benson's AP Lit." I watched her for a reaction.
She chuckled. "Yeah, that's a ball-buster. They call him the Senior Slayer."
I huffed and nodded.
"Something tells me you'll be fine in there," she added. "No worries. It's the group of kids that'll be the pain-in-the-ass. Half of them are in it just to look good on their college apps. They know they'll fail, but by that time, they'll already have acceptance letters in hand. Just be ready."
Hmm. She seemed to know what she was talking about, and I seemed to know the exact pains-in-the-asses she was referring to.
I liked her already.
Damn it!
What was my problem?
I was supposed to keep my head down.
What was it about this school? It was almost as if a few select students jumped out at me and I couldn't help but pay attention to them. It was like they were in full clarity of my sight while all the others were a faded blur.
There was a strange, subtle heaviness around me too. Like a secret everyone knew but wouldn't talk about. It covered the entire town. Everyone and everything looked so perfect, clean, and polished, which made me wonder what they were really hiding.
I always picked up on things like that. I could sense when something was amiss. And here, in this new school, this new town, something was off.
I bit my thumbnail, pondering the unnerving feeling, then she pulled my attention back.
"Lab partner?"
"Huh?" I blinked at her.
"We need to choose lab partners," she said.
"Oh, yeah. Okay."
"I'm Poorva, by the way," she added with a smile.
"I'm Brynn."
She nodded like she already knew that and I rubbed my temples to release the tension.
The rest of the period slogged forward, and I stared at the clock which moved slower than physically possible.
Finally, at the bell, Poorva jumped up and grabbed her backpack. She slid her feet back into her Converse while keeping the heels crushed down.
"X-block," she stated. "With Ms. Kelly."
Wait.
Poorva was in my X-block with Ms. Kelly... and she already knew I was in there too?
I didn't know if I should be weirded-out by that or if I should just be happy.
"Come on," she said. "You're gonna love Ms. Kelly. We have the best advisory group in the school."
"Um, okay," I mumbled, trying to keep up with her quick pace.
"People kind of hate us for it," she added. "They know we have something really cool going on, but it pisses them off that they have no idea what it is." She laughed, and it sounded almost musical.
"So, I guess I'm lucky then?" My tone gave away my cynicism.
"You could say that. But it's not really a chance kind of thing. You're either in it or you're not." She turned down the C wing toward guidance. "Ms. Kelly chooses carefully. She's never wrong."
I slowed a bit, wondering what she was talking about.
"Chooses what?" I asked with a curled lip.
She stopped short and stared at me. Then she let out a stifled laugh.
"Oh, you don't know," she chuckled. "Sorry. You really are new. I must sound crazy." She started fast-walking again and shook her head. "Anyway, you'll see."
We flew through the hallway and noticed a couple of other students heading with similar determination in the same direction. They were clear in my vision, while all the other students in the corridor were a blur. I blinked and squinted my eyes, trying to bring the other students into focus, but it was no use. The same two were the only ones that stood out to me.
"Are they going too?" I asked Poorva.
Her jaw fell open as she glanced at the students I gestured toward.
"Uh, yuh." She stared at me for a second then pulled me along into the guidance suite.
College flags and posters lined the walls, and a row of computers ran along the far side. Several round tables filled the center of the space, and individual offices lined the perimeter.
I recognized Ms. Kelly's office door with its cheerful welcome sign. Only this time, I was coming from the other direction. The main office was down the narrow corridor past her office. I shuddered, hoping the nasty secretary had nothing to do with X-block advisory and was glad she was far out of view.
Poorva and I sat at a round table and the two other students settled at the one next to us. The boy was small, probably a freshman or sophomore, but held a look of true confidence that squashed any preconceived notions of a Napoleon Complex. The girl hid behind her long, messy hair—I mean, hasn't-been-brushed-in-a-month, messy hair.
Then, the door opened, and another student entered. He was familiar to me, and his vibrant energy pulled my attention directly to his eyes. It was the boy from the top of the stairs at the front entryway when I'd first arrived at school. He held my gaze now, again.
"Sup." He nodded at me.
I swallowed and nodded back.
"So, that's Shane," Poorva whispered. "He's a junior." Then she pointed to the others. "That's Blake, sophomore, and Courtney, junior."
The door opened again, and I watched as the next student entered.
His eyes met mine with a knowing grin.
"You following me?" Dom said, staring into my eyes.
"Um, no," I fumbled through my inner freak-out. Mute once again, I gritted my teeth at my inability to function.
Poorva came to the rescue.
"Wait, you know each other already?" she asked.
"Yeah," Dom said. "New girl. She's in my Lit class."
"You're in that class too?" Poorva groaned at him.
"Gotta get into college, ya know," he teased. "Can't get in on charm alone."
She rolled her eyes with a sigh, revealing her exasperation at students playing the system.
He pointed back at me. "I knew you'd be in here. Knew it!"
My eyebrows pulled together, and before another comment was spoken, Ms. Kelly approached us.
"Good morning group," she greeted us with a smile.
&n
bsp; She sat at a round table as if she were one of us. Then she glanced around the space and stood again.
Looking into the conference room behind her, she said, "Come on. Let's head in there for some privacy. We have a new member as you can see, and she'll have a few questions."
I wondered why we would need the privacy of the conference room for my questions.
Everyone groaned as they pulled themselves up from the comfort of their seats, and we moved into the new space.
The conference room had a large rectangular table in the center with at least twelve chairs around it. A projector hung from the ceiling, and the whiteboard had smeared colors of erasable marker on it.
As everyone found a new seat, Ms. Kelly said, "Students, I want to introduce you to Brynn, the newest member of our group."
I dropped my eyes to my hands.
"Brynn," she said, pointing around the table. "This is Blake, Courtney, Shane, Dom, and Poorva. They will be the members of your advisory group this year, and there is much you can learn from them."
From them?
I was confused and was certain the twist on my face exposed that fact.
Ms. Kelly grinned. "These are the other sensitives in the school, Brynn. Like you. And it is here, in this advisory group, that you will all practice your gifts and learn to use them to their fullest."
I looked around at the others in the group, waiting for someone to burst out laughing, but no one did.
"Like a school hidden within a school," Poorva whispered.
"Huh?" I shook my head.
Ms. Kelly continued. "If you keep an open mind for the next half hour, Brynn, you'll understand what we are all about."
I stared at her, unblinking.
"We keep it hidden though," Shane blurted. "It would be social suicide to expose this."
I looked back at Ms. Kelly for her answer to his random comment.
"Yes," she said. "Our mission is delicate. The wellbeing of the community relies on us, whether they know it or not. And the last thing we need is a witch hunt on our hands. We must remain a secret academy in order to learn how to use our powers and carry out our goals."
My mind spiraled into a slushy haze.
Secret Academy? Gifts? Witch hunt?
I needed to switch advisory groups.
Mystic Coven: Fire Festival (Supernatural Academy Graduates Book 1) Page 23
