by Luna Pierce
Kyra rolls her eyes. “Whatever. But you better call dibs before someone else does.”
I swallow the lump in my throat. Dibs? We’ve been here less than a day!
Chapter Four
The orientation went well, considering it was put on by Abigail, given the headmaster is still missing in action. She assured us he would be arriving soon, but here we are, reporting to our respective wings bright and early to receive our class lists and direction.
A round-faced older woman with gray hair greets us near the entrance to the east wing.
“Good morning, girls. I’m Professor Strong.”
What a contradiction that is.
“Good morning,” we mutter in return.
“Go ahead and gather in room E five, I’ll be down there shortly.” She smiles, showing us her yellowed teeth.
Adding in the lines and lines of wrinkles around her mouth, I can only assume both are caused by years of smoking.
“Yes, ma’am,” I reply.
Looking at the small signs near the doors, we find E five situated at the end of the tiled hall on the left. The room is large with a rounded window letting in massive amounts of natural light. One thing this school did not skimp on is windows.
“Willow,” a voice boasts.
I turn to the sound, scanning the room, and land on those stunning blue eyes. Cameron.
He waves excitedly until I give him my attention. The girls mutually side-eye me but follow me to the desked area where Cameron is sitting.
“Hey.” I sit in the chair opposite of him.
Remi pulls up the chair to my right, Lillian to my left, and Kyra goes around to sit next to Cameron. She winks at me from across the table.
“Not going to lie,” he says. “I totally did not expect that under your hood.”
“Yeah, yeah, I get it. My hair is always a big surprise. It’s just hair,” I huff.
“You could have been bald for all I know, it’s”—he seems to get lost in thought for a second—“it really brings out the blue in your eyes. Or is that green? I see both.”
“Could be both. They sort of do their own thing. But, uh… thanks?”
He teases. “You’re not the best at taking compliments, are you?”
At that, Mrs. Strong strides into the room.
“Good morning again, students.” She coughs and continues, “I’ll be passing out your class itinerary shortly. The rest of today will allow you to get familiar with the campus and finding your classes, with tomorrow being the official first day. I strongly urge you to pair up and explore today.”
Remi gives my chair a delicate kick, and when my eyes falter from Mrs. Strong, Cameron gives me a questioning glance and shoots his hand into the air.
“Why, our first question, and so soon. Yes, young sir?”
“Do we get to pick our partner?” he queries.
“I suppose so. It was merely a suggestion more than a requirement.”
Cameron cuts her off, blurting out, “I choose Willow.”
My cheeks burn with a flush, and I sink into my seat, thinking that maybe I can melt into my chair and stop the watchful eyes from being drawn to me.
Remi sighs and kicks Cameron’s chair, not delicately like she had done mine. She gives him a death stare, and he grins immensely at her.
Mrs. Strong hands out our papers and dismisses class. Our table hangs back to let the rest of the students disperse while we study our schedules over.
“Who does everyone have for first? I’ve got Strong,” Kyra questions.
“Weller,” I respond, meeting the eyes of our little group, hoping someone has the same.
“Strong.” Cameron sighs.
“Same,” Lillian whispers the same time Remi replies.
Cameron pokes at my paper. “We have Creative Writing together… and Psych one-oh-one.”
“You two love birds ought to go find them since you’re partners and all,” Remi jokes.
“She said it wasn’t required. You realize we can all go together, right?” I add.
“I’m just screwing with you. I have to run and grab my phone, though, I forgot it this morning.” She focuses on Lillian and Kyra. “Coming with me or the love birds?”
“You two go ahead.” Kyra smirks. She lowers her voice, “Dibs and all.”
“We can wait, I really don’t mind.” I look to Cameron. “Do you?”
He swipes a lock of hair from his brow, his sparkling sky-deep eyes meeting mine, and verifies, “Not at all.”
“We’ll meet you in the foyer in ten,” Remi insists.
A few seconds pass following the girls leaving us alone, and I become fidgety. I scan the wall for a clock and make a mental note of the time.
“So… what brings you to Harper Academy, Miss Willow?” Cameron leads us from the classroom.
I spy the room numbers outside of the rooms, even numbers on one side, odd on the other. One through six.
“An education, you?”
“I guess you could say the same. I couldn’t really afford to go anywhere else, and this was the most cost-effective. And that’s with me paying what my grant didn’t cover.”
I don’t verbally respond so he resumes. “I got a grant for living in Harper. Are you from out of town?”
At this, I laugh. “Born and raised, actually.”
“In Harper? You’re kidding me. How have I never seen you around?”
He places his hand on the small of my back and leads me toward the foyer seating area. His touch is equally comforting and alarming. I’ve known him a whole twelve seconds, and he’s touching me, and I don’t hate it.
“Sorry,” he apologizes. “I shouldn’t have done that.” He stops in front of me, a mere distance from my face, drawing me to a stop, too. A handful of inches taller, he looks down at me, surveying my every movement. His hand moves from his side, motioning toward the couch next to us. “Want to have a seat while we wait?”
I sit on the dark and thoroughly comfortable couch, facing what I think is the north wing. Cameron sits next to me, turning toward me and sitting sideways, one elbow on the back of the couch, almost like he’s waiting eagerly for me to share my deepest darkest secrets.
“I was homeschooled,” I finally respond.
“Oh, how rad. That’s awesome.”
“Not really. It wasn’t a great time.”
“Yeah, but you probably got to sleep in and stay in your pajamas all day?”
“I started working part-time during the morning at fourteen.”
At the change in my tone, he concedes, “I didn’t mean to bring up anything bad.” Cameron tenderly puts his hand on mine. “I’m not trying to pry. Or maybe I am. I don’t know. But I’m sorry if it comes across that way. I’m incredibly intrigued, Willow. Like a moth to a flame.”
Despite my nervous energy, I sense his genuine nature spill through, setting me at ease.
“I’m not really used to talking about myself,” I admit. “There’s never really any time for it.”
“Whatever you’re running from, whatever’s been stealing away your light, I hope you can escape it here.”
Vague as it may seem, his words speak volumes. Without giving him much of me at all, he can somehow see through me and onto the struggles I force down and face myself.
He pulls his hand away. “Wow, I’m coming across much creepier than I intend.” He shifts to face away from me, settling his back against the couch and planting both feet on the ground.
He starts faintly when I touch his shoulder.
“I don’t think you’re creepy, Cameron. I think you’re far nicer than I deserve.”
His growing smile fuels my soul.
A commotion from across the room surprises me and grabs my attention. Three guys and a girl barrel down the east wing stairs and around the corner down the hallway. A weird haze, almost like a floating black-and-purple shadow clouds my vision, and they disappear into it.
I shift my gaze back to Cameron who is seemingly unfazed b
y the shadow. He might not have noticed it, maybe he wasn’t looking that direction.
“Hey, love birds,” Remi announces, walking toward us. “You two get a room yet?”
“I know we just met yesterday, but I’m totally going to smother you in your sleep.”
“Simmer down, killer. Dead bodies creep me out.” Kyra laughs. “Let’s get to exploring.”
“Where to first?” Lillian speaks up.
“We’re good with east, right? Let’s check out the south wing first,” Remi suggests.
“Ladies first,” Cameron grins, clearly pleased he gets to sightsee with four good-looking gals.
The south wing is nearly identical to the east. Room number five has the same picturesque rounded window, leaving me to assume rooms W five and N five will, too. I have Psych 101 in S three in the afternoon with Cameron. Second room on the left, I memorize.
Past the bathroom I noted prior, by the south wing stairs, and beyond the dining hall entrance, is the boys’ bathroom, which is next to the west wing stairs. I enter the west wing, and a strange energy shift hits me and brings me quite literally to a stop.
Cameron halts a moment after me, and with concern lining his face asks, “Are you okay?”
The sudden burning of eyes impales me from an unknown source, but I feel too exposed to survey my surroundings. Stop drawing attention to yourself, Will.
“Yeah, I’m good.” I shake my head and try to rid myself of the strange feeling flowing through me.
“You love birds coming?” Remi calls from halfway down the hall.
That purple-and-black shadow appears to her left and catches my eye, but when I try to focus on it, it disappears. I force a breath and resume walking.
“Yeah, right behind ya.”
Cameron hangs back and slows to meet my pace. He doesn’t say anything else, but I’m grateful for his welcome and calming presence.
Pushing away the being creeped out over whatever visions I keep having, I endure the rest of the exploration. I was correct in my assessment that the wings would be similar, all of the odd rooms on the left, even on the right, and the fifth room having the oversized, rounded window. I make another mental note for room six in the west wing, where I’ll have Accounting during last period.
Abigail had mentioned that the building is shaped like an X, and now that I’ve seen it for myself, that makes total sense. On the mirror opposite side of the building from the headmaster’s office, placed neatly between the west and north wing, is the infirmary.
We pause for a second, looking over the pieces of paper in our hands, comparing schedules. The humming coursing through me lessens until we continue toward the north wing.
The air seems to thicken, the energy pulsing in bursts.
“Are you sure you’re good?” Cameron asks, concern lining his brow.
I force a smile. “I just have a headache. I get them often.”
“I can get you something. Tylenol? Water? What do you need?”
I uncross my arms, only now realizing I had been hugging them together, and touch his shoulder. “I’m okay. Thank you, though. That’s very kind of you. Let’s get this over with. I could use some fresh air.”
Homeroom with Professor Weller is in N five, tucked away with another gorgeously massive window. Ethics, which is following lunch, is in N six. Both classes are without either of my new friends, and I dread both of them. I barely know any of them, but it’s still favorable to have them around on this exciting and terrifying journey.
The shadow only appears once during our time in the north wing, but it disturbs me all the same.
Without waiting for the rest of the group, I locate my two north wing classes and bolt from the area, across the foyer, past the unbelievable indoor garden, through the enormous dining hall, and onto the outdoor patio. Crossing the threshold to the exterior, I suck in a much-needed breath of refreshing air.
My feet seem to have a mind of their own, marching me beyond the terrace and into the wooded area behind the school. I don’t look back, walking farther away from the dense energy of the shadows lurking within the school.
I’m not really sure how long it takes me to calm down. Ten minutes, maybe thirty, an hour or more? But by the time I finally do, I grasp that I am completely and foolishly lost. The burning sensation like eyes watching vibrates and sends chills racing down my spine. Fear sinks its teeth into me, and it’s everything I can do to stay calm.
I stop. Close my eyes. Breathe deeply. Listen intently to my surroundings. Consume all that is near.
Birds chirping. The aroma of rain-soaked earth. A sweet hint of honeysuckle. A branch creaking. The wind blows a dusting of leaves against the terrain.
I open my eyes and feel much calmer, grounded. I will myself to find a way out, to get back to the school.
“How do I get out of here?” I mutter to no one but myself.
At that, the tree to my left slowly illuminates at the bottom, and light pink-and-white flowers surrounding the trunk radiate a glowing aura. It appeals to me in the gentlest of ways, whispering nothing my brain can comprehend. I’m drawn to it, and with my step forward, the giant oak tree a few feet away from the first lights up at the base, too, calling me forward.
Each stride brightens the path, and despite it being irrational, I follow—uncertain of where it might take me yet being completely content with whatever the outcome may be.
Chapter Five
I wake the next morning rested and relieved that I’m not feeling like a bag of crap, having stayed up most of the night trying to decipher the freaky shadows and somehow enchanted flowers that led me back to the school. I finally convinced myself I was having a psychotic break and maybe whatever was wrong with my mom was hereditary and I was basically following along in the familial footsteps.
I guess I’m crazy, too. Thanks, Oliver gene.
I throw my hair back into a loose braid and pull on a thick black sweater to fight the draft of the lavish but outdated school. I don’t bother with makeup, not that first impressions don’t matter, I just prefer to appear like the same person the entire school year and not exclusively in the beginning when I’m putting forth extra effort.
“I’m starting to hate you,” Remi declares.
“Me?” I point to myself and look to the other girls for answers, then back to Remi.
“Yes, you. You have that whole ‘I woke up like this’ thing going on. It’s totally not fair.”
I shrug. “I told you, I prefer sleep.”
At that, she throws something at me. I catch it in my left hand. Mascara.
“Rude!” I toss it back.
“You’re rude!” she teases. “We’ve been here a day, and you already have two hot guys eyeballing you. Leave some for the rest of us.”
“You’re out of your mind.” I glance down at my phone sitting on my nightstand. “And you’re going to be late if you don’t finish. I’m heading to class. I’ll see you at lunch.” I walk by her on my way out of the room and poke her in the side, her partially curled hair flopping in the attempt to avoid me.
I grab the granola bar I stuffed into my pocket and tear into it on my way to homeroom, hoping the little bit of substance calms my first-day jitters. Yesterday was like dipping the toes in the water, but today is when classes actually begin. I preemptively took a headache reliever and brought a bottle of water in my backpack just to be safe. Don’t need to be getting weird on day one.
I get to homeroom and am pleased to find it empty. Another worm for the early bird. I find a seat in the corner, making sure there’s a clear path to the door—you know, in case of emergencies and such.
A rush passes over me, and I’m not sure whether it’s worries of the day taking hold or more weird north wing vibes.
I force a breath, closing my eyes and whispering to myself, “You are okay, everything is going to be okay.”
“No freaking way,” a thick voice breaks my pep talk.
I open up to find dark, sultry eyes staring
daggers into me. He flops into the seat right next to mine and lets out a long sigh.
“I can’t believe you left me hanging like that yesterday, Wills.”
I should cringe at hearing him use a name reserved for friends and family, but I can’t help but internally smile at the sound of it coming from him.
“Deghan,” I reply, turning a bit to face him.
“I’m hurt,” he says while caressing his heart with his hand.
“Such dramatics for this early?”
“I have a way you can make it up to me.” He beams brightly.
“For the record, I had no idea you were waving at me. But if you insist, how can I make it up to you, you poor, poor soul?”
“Who else would I have been waving at?” he replies and then shakes his head. “Never mind that, promise me I’ll see you at the party tomorrow night.”
“Party?”
“Yeah, it’s an annual Harper Academy thing. First Friday of every new term.”
“Oh… I, um…”
“Oh, c’mon!” Deghan holds his hand tighter on his chest and leans back, laying the drama on copiously. “You wouldn’t hurt me again, would you?”
My gaze locks on to him, lowering to his navy-blue t-shirt that’s clinging in all the right ways. I force myself to look away, a smile tugging at my lips when his bottom lip twists in a classic puckered state, pulling at my heartstrings.
“Fine, but stop doing that! It’s not fair.”
“Ahh, she does have a heart,” Deghan declares.
“You’re ruthless.”
“Or I just know how to get what I want.” He winks.
It sends my heart fluttering.
Is he flirting with me? Was Cameron flirting with me? What the hell is happening?
A little birdy pops into my head and says better call dibs, but I whoosh it away, knowing there’s no way in hell I could choose between the two, at least not this early.
Students pile into the room, claiming seat after seat until finally, our professor strolls in.
“Good morning, class,” he marvels. “My name is Professor Weller, and I’ll be your homeroom math teacher this term.” He sets his shoulder bag onto the large wooden desk at the front and opens it to retrieve a stack of papers. “You.” He points to the girl sitting closest to his desk. “Pass one of these out to each student, please.”
